Dark of the Night Page 22

  “Piece of cake.” Carter smiled jovially, giving the thumbs-up sign.

  “Have you seen the governor’s planned remarks?” Leon wasn’t quite as cheerful. “The last time he spoke on our behalf, he mangled our positions on crime and minority rights.”

  Maudeen nodded. “Way ahead of you.” She detached some papers from the clipboard and handed them to Leon. “Here’s what he’s going to say. I had our people go over it with a fine-tooth comb and I think we’re all right.”

  Leon skimmed the document and handed it back to Maudeen. “Good work.”

  She smiled at Carter. “I aim to please.”

  “So how much press time?” This from Carter.

  “Fifteen to twenty minutes. There’ll probably be some questions on prison reform.”

  Carter frowned. “Because of the man who died?”

  Maudeen nodded. “We’re lucky we got a heads-up.”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Riley looked askance at her father first and then Maudeen.

  “If you’d made the morning meeting, you’d be up to speed.” Leon raised an eyebrow, voicing his disapproval.

  “I had another appointment.” She felt herself blush, and cringed, watching her father and Leon exchange glances.

  “You didn’t miss all that much.” Maudeen’s voice was soothing. “An inmate at the prison died of an overdose last night. A lifer named Bryce Daniels. We got word this morning. With your father’s crusade against drugs, and his proactive stance on prison reform, there’re bound to be questions.”

  Riley braced herself against the tremor of fear racing through her. If Daniels was dead, then the trail to Michaels could be cold. And more frightening, there was the distinct possibility that someone had helped the man along in his overdose. “Do you know what happened?”

  “Specifically? No. I think prison officials are keeping a pretty tight lid on things until they figure out what happened. But the governor’s office got a call, and then they called us.”

  “Turnabout’s fair play. We did a hell of a lot to get the man elected.” Carter frowned. “I’m sure I can handle anything that comes up. It’s really not my purview. And I’ve made my platform perfectly clear.”

  “I agree,” Maudeen said. “But it’s my job to see that there aren’t any surprises. Riley, I suspect there will also be questions about the bombing. So it’ll probably be best if you don’t take questions at all.”

  “Fine.” She was anything but fine, actually, but there was nothing she could share with them. At least she didn’t have to field questions. There was something in that. And as soon as she was out of here, she’d find Jake. He’d know what to do.

  “Okay, that’s it then.” Maudeen smiled. “Any questions?”

  “No.” Leon stood up. “But I’d like a word with Carter. Will you ladies excuse us?”

  The two men walked from the room, leaving an awkward silence behind them.

  “It’s been a rough couple of days.” Maudeen’s eyes narrowed in concern. “You doing all right?”

  “As well as can be expected, I guess.” Riley shrugged.

  “How about the dream? Have you had it again?”

  “No.” She wasn’t sure exactly why she lied. Maybe it was to avoid the emotional conversation it would evoke. Or maybe she just didn’t want to share it with Maudeen. Either way, she felt guilty. The two women weren’t close, but there was no question that Maudeen meant well. Still, Riley was reticent to discuss anything related to Caroline. Even a dream.

  “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Thanks,” Riley forced a smile, “but I’m fine.”

  “I believe that. But you’ve been through a lot, and I just want you to know that I’m here. If you need to talk.”

  Riley’s smile was genuine this time. “I appreciate that. But I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

  “I know. And I’m not trying to butt in, honestly. I just wanted you to know there’s a friendly ear if you want to talk about things you might not want to share with your father.”

  “Daddy means well, but he has been a little overprotective of late.”

  The older woman smiled. “He’s your father. It comes with the territory. And in light of his losing Caroline and your mother, he’s just finding it a little more difficult to face the prospect of losing you.”

  “But he’s not losing me.” Riley blew out a breath in frustration. They weren’t talking about the dreams anymore, they were talking about Jake. “No matter what I do or who I do it with, I’ll always be his daughter. And I’ll always be here for him.”

  “I know that, and you know that. It’s just harder for him to see it. Especially in light of all that’s been happening. His nerves are stretched to the limit, Riley. And I’m not certain he’s even capable of seeing things objectively. Everything is tainted in light of the election.”

  “If it wasn’t this it would be something else, Maudeen. He just doesn’t want to let go.”

  “He loves you, Riley. In the end, he’ll do the right thing.”

  “I hope so.” There was so much at stake—so much she was going to need for him to understand.

  “Trust in him.” Maudeen reached over to pat her hand. “And trust in yourself.”

  Riley met the older woman’s gaze, covering Maudeen’s hand with hers. Maybe she’d been wrong about Maudeen and her father. The woman obviously loved him. And more important, she seemed to care about what was best for him. Not in a selfish, how-is-this-best-for-me way, but in an honest, loving way.

  “Maudeen . . .” She paused, ordering her thoughts. “I hope things work out with you and my father. I know you’ve hit a rough patch lately. But it’s like you said, he’s under so much pressure. I know he loves you.”

  “I know it too.” There was pain in her expression. Pain and regret. “But sometimes it’s not enough, Riley. Sometimes it’s just not enough.”

  Chapter 20

  JAKE BANGED HIS hand against the computer in frustration. Every time he got an answer, it only raised more questions, making the puzzle seem more complex. Lenora Hadley’s information seemed to confirm Larsen’s implication that Michaels had fixed a trial. But he needed corroboration, and the kid Mrs. Hadley had spoken of had disappeared without a trace.

  So much for the information highway.

  There was still Bryce Daniels, but he hadn’t had much luck in that area either. The man he’d talked to at the prison wasn’t forthcoming with information. In fact, he’d been downright hostile. Jake’s efforts to make an appointment had been stonewalled with absolutely no explanation.

  He’d asked Tim for help, hopeful that his editor would be able to put a little more muscle behind the request. So now it was just a waiting game. It seemed odd that he couldn’t just arrange a meeting with the man, but then, truth be told, he had no idea what the hell he was dealing with.

  That Douglas Michaels had been involved in something shady seemed a foregone conclusion. But what? If Mrs. Hadley was right, Michaels had framed an innocent man. The question was, why? To protect the real killer? Or had it been racially motivated? There was logic in that, since Mrs. Hadley intimated that there had been racial tension during her interview with Michaels.

  But that simply wasn’t enough to draw a conclusion. And there were a million other explanations, none any better or worse than the others.

  Still, nothing happened in a vacuum. Twelve years in the newspaper business had taught him that much. The trick was to find the anomaly. Someone had to have seen something. He just had to find them.

  The proverbial needle in a haystack.

  Now all he needed was a magnet.

  The phone on the desk jangled, the noise jarring him from his thoughts. “Mahoney.”

  There was silence, punctuated with nervous breathing.

  “Hello?” Jake frowned. “Is someone there?”

  “Mr. Mahoney?” The voice was soft, hesi
tant. “This is Amber Northcott, Hank Larsen’s girlfriend.”

  Jake transferred the receiver to his other ear, a tingle of excitement dancing up his spine. “What can I do for you, Amber?” He leaned back in his chair, carefully modulating his voice to keep it casual.

  “I . . . well, I didn’t exactly tell you everything the other day.” She paused, and he heard her sigh.

  “And you want to tell me now?” Go slowly, his brain urged. She was on the edge of panic, he could hear it in her voice.

  “Yes. I mean, no. I want to tell you, but not now. Can you meet me in an hour or so?”

  “Sure.” He reached for a pen. “Where do you want to meet?”

  There was another pause as she considered the question. “How about the food court at Lenox mall? I’ll meet you in front of Sbarro.”

  He frowned. “Wouldn’t somewhere more private be better? You could come here.”

  “No. I want somewhere public.”

  The excitement changed to concern. “Are you all right, Amber?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve just had a change of heart, that’s all.” Her answer was quick and bright—too bright. “I’ll meet you in an hour.”

  The phone clicked and went dead.

  Jake sat staring at the receiver, trying to make heads or tails of what he’d just heard. Something had obviously prompted Amber to come clean. But about what? And why?

  “Interesting phone call?” Tim Pierce leaned against the opening to the cubicle.

  “Maybe.” Jake hung up the phone. “That was Hank Larsen’s girlfriend. Seems she didn’t tell me everything the other day. I’m supposed to meet her at Lenox Square in an hour.”

  Tim raised an eyebrow, taking a seat. “A little shopping?”

  Jake laughed. “A light lunch, actually. We’re meeting at the food court. You just eavesdropping on my phone conversations or are you here for a reason?”

  “A reason. Two, actually. I finally talked to the warden about Daniels. Turns out there’s a damn good reason you can’t set up an interview with the man.”

  “And that would be?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Well, shit. I can’t seem to catch a break.”

  “I’d say Daniels was the one who missed the boat in the break department this time.”

  “One step forward, ten steps back.” Jake leaned back in his chair, swallowing his frustration. “So what happened?”

  “According to the warden, he died of a self-inflicted overdose.”

  “In prison?”

  “Not unusual. There’s a lot of dealing on the inside.”

  Jake grinned. “You know this from personal experience?”

  “Right.” Tim smiled in return. “Actually, I covered the correctional system years ago. Anyway, the story is that Daniels was involved in some kind of altercation earlier in the week. Wound up in the infirmary with a stab wound. He was due to be released back into the general population this morning, but when the guard came to get him around five, he was dead.”

  “They have proof it was an overdose?”

  Tim shook his head. “Not yet. They’re waiting for the autopsy report. But evidently Daniels had a drug history, and they found track marks.”

  “And of course nobody saw anything.”

  “Hey, it’s a prison.” Tim shrugged. “There was another man in the infirmary, but he swears he slept through the whole thing.”

  “See no evil, hear no evil.” Jake sighed. “And we’ve got another dead end.”

  “You’re thinking it wasn’t an accident.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore. This whole thing gets more complicated by the minute.”

  “How did the interview this morning go?”

  “Well, if Lenora Hadley is to be believed, it’s looking like Michaels framed Daniels. But so far I’m not having any luck digging up someone to support her version of the story.”

  “What about the other witnesses?”

  “Dead or missing in action. Margaret Wallace died in her bed, and the other witness was just a kid. I’ve used every tool I know of but I can’t find him.”

  “So you’re back to Larsen’s girlfriend.”

  Jake nodded, reaching for his notepad. “Looks like she may be the only game in town. You said there were two reasons you wanted to talk to me.”

  Tim took off his glasses and rubbed one eye, his expression regretful. “Got another call today.”

  “About Riley.” Jake blew out a breath, certain he was right.

  “Yeah. Apparently, we’re still getting pressure from the O’Brien camp to get you to back off.”

  He tightened his fingers on his notebook, anger making his blood sing. “You know this hasn’t got anything to do with publishing.”

  “I do. But it doesn’t matter. The fact is that Carter O’Brien is a powerful man. And if he calls in favors,” Tim shrugged, “then people jump to attention. And for whatever reason, he’s decided he wants you kept away from his daughter.”

  “Tim, you know I respect you. And I respect this paper. But I refuse to let some overly egotistical politico dictate the terms of my personal life.”

  “Carter O’Brien isn’t just any politico. He’s about to be elected commander in chief of the world’s most powerful nation, and that means he’s got a hell of a lot of clout. Some dragons you just don’t want to be poking.”

  “Hell, Tim,” Jake grinned with more bluster than he felt, “if I don’t poke the dragon, how am I supposed to rescue the princess?”

  “You tippie-toe, Jake. You goddamn tippie-toe.”

  The mall was packed. Mothers with children. Lovers. Old, young. Rich, poor. A cross section of Atlanta trapped together in an architectural homage to the almighty dollar. America at its best and worst all under the same roof.

  Talk about your one-stop shopping, Jake thought, smiling to himself as he stepped off the escalator, already searching for Larsen’s girlfriend. Sbarro was off to his left, stuck amid a cacophony of neon signs advertising chicken, sushi, burgers, tacos, and egg rolls. A veritable smorgasbord of fast food heaven. Normally he’d be a happy man, tempted to have one of everything, but lately his appetite seemed to be on the wane. Too damn much on his mind.

  He dodged a stroller and a toddler on a leash, making his way through the tables toward the pizza place. A redhead in stiletto heels and a skintight miniskirt stood in line. Jake started toward her, but she turned her head and he realized it wasn’t Amber. Maybe this hadn’t been the best place to meet.

  He turned to survey the crowd, searching for copper hair. Nothing. He checked his watch and relaxed. He was still a couple of minutes early. She was probably just running late. Or had stopped to window shop. He usually wasn’t this impatient, but his mind was still reeling from Tim’s revelation that O’Brien was still making waves.

  The son of a bitch. He couldn’t blame the man for caring about his daughter, but his strong-arm tactics left a lot to be desired. And, in truth, they only served to drive him onward. If the man wanted an all-out war, he had one. Of course, there was the little matter of the daughter to consider.

  Riley certainly had her own opinions, and while he was pretty damn certain she was feeling the same sparks he was, he had no idea what else she was feeling. Hell, he didn’t really know what he was feeling. Other than confused.

  He’d thought he had women well and truly out of his system after Lacey’d worked him over, but one look at Riley had changed everything. Just standing here thinking about her made him hard.

  It was more than that, though. Something way beyond the physical. And that’s what scared him. Scared him silly, to tell the truth. For the first time in his life he was at a loss for what to do. They were so different. He couldn’t see her giving up her way of life for his, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give up his for hers.

  He hated all that political bullshit. Kissing strangers’ asses wasn’t exactly his cup of tea. In fact, he didn’t even like tea. He was a beer man all the way. P
referably Red Brick, served with lots of boiled peanuts, and if he had to call it, he’d have to say Riley was a champagne and caviar kind of girl.

  Maybe Carter was right. Maybe it was best if he let her go. But the idea of giving in to the bastard rankled, and the idea of never seeing her again was unthinkable. For better or worse, she’d gotten under his skin, and he’d be damned if he was getting off before the end of the ride. Wherever it happened to take them.

  He looked at his watch again, frustration mixing with other emotions he’d just as soon not identify.

  Where the hell was Amber?

  Riley rounded the corner, wondering why Jake was meeting someone at the mall. What a godawful place to conduct any kind of business, and the food court was even worse. People jostled each other as they carried trays of fried inedibles, soft drinks sloshing precariously as they walked.

  She moved among the throng, searching for Jake. His editor had said he was heading for Sbarro. He hadn’t wanted to tell her anything at all. In fact, the man had practically sent her packing the minute she’d walked into the office.

  But she’d held her ground, insisting that she had information that Jake would want, and finally the man had capitulated, sending her here. It occurred to her suddenly that maybe Tim had lied. That maybe he’d sent her on a wild-goose chase. There was probably some sort of justice in that, considering the big guns her father and Leon had pulled.

  She hadn’t had anything to do with it, but she could hardly expect Tim to know that. She sighed, wondering if she was here on a fool’s errand. Even if Jake were here, it was still possible she’d made a mistake. All morning long she’d debated the wisdom of continuing to see him.

  Caroline or no Caroline, she was playing with fire, and she knew better than most that playing with fire got a girl burned. And, in her case, the stakes were a bit higher than just a broken heart.

  She bit her lip and stopped moving, letting the crowd ebb and flow around her. She had no business being here. She had no business being anywhere with Jake Mahoney. She’d been over it again and again, and there really wasn’t any way out. He was a reporter. The whole purpose of his job was to find trouble and stir it up.