Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I’ve just finished my text when the governor exits behind me. “Thank you for your help, Agent,” he says. People call me “agent” when they don’t know which last name to use, proving he’s in full politician mood.
“You sure you don’t know who is behind the equity group? It was built during your term.”
“The end of my term. The lobbyists start coming at us even before we’re elected, and we make promises for their support.”
“What are you saying?”
“I think your father was arrogant enough to believe he would be governor and he wanted to ensure he lived in style. You want to know about that donor. Talk to your father.” He walks toward the door and I let him leave. I haven’t decided he’s innocent. I’ve simply decided I’m done with him. For now. He’s a little too perfect to suit me and anything that seems perfect on the outside, in my experience, is deeply cracked on the inside.
I’d like to be there tomorrow when he views the victim’s body.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Pocher is calling me when I reach my father’s office, and I assume he’s found out about the leak. That man is deeply connected to everyone who is anyone. No doubt, he’s freaking out over the leak and wanting to know how I’m going to handle it. He can keep on waiting for a lifetime as far as I’m concerned. I decline the call and walk into my father’s private office to find him standing at the window with his back to me.
The instant he senses I’m present he whirls around. “Lilah, damn it.” He’s striding my direction and I shut the door, already anticipating his over-the-top reaction to everything. He’s losing his freaking mind. At this point, I’m still at the door and he’s in front of me. “Is he trying to turn this on me?”
“What I discuss with him is none of your business.”
“If he is, I need to call the press right now—”
“You need to go sit down and chill a minute is what you need. And I’ll tell you what I told him, I hold the power here. If I tell the press we’re talking to you or him, no matter how innocently, they’ll go nuts over it. Go sit. You are not yourself and this is official FBI business.” I point to his desk.
He inhales sharply and then does as I’ve directed, but this time he walks calmly and claims his seat. I sit in the visitor’s chair directly across from him. He leans forward. “I cannot have this get out to the press.”
“It already has. An anonymous tip about a dead body at the mansion. Nothing more. No one knows you were there. In fact, they will likely assume Mackey was there.”
“I thought Pocher handled this.” He lifts his phone from his desk. “He told me he handled this.”
“We think it was the killer, who may or may not be in the group we’re waiting to interview.”
“In other words, the crazy person is running the show.”
“If you mean me, I am. And I have this under control.” My phone buzzes with a text from Adams with Houston copied: We need to hold a press conference.
I reply with: No press conference. It gives the killer the chaos he seeks and he’ll keep digging for more. Issue a statement. Short. Simple. House vacant. Discovery made at the house and we’re investigating.
“Lilah,” my father bites out. “I need your attention.”
“If you prefer that I let the other investigators hold a press conference that screws you, I can ignore them.”
“Don’t let them do a press conference. No. That will be like shining a light on me and my governorship.”
And it’s all about him, not the man who lost his life. My cellphone rings with Houston on caller ID and I walk to the hallway and shut myself on the other side of the door, away from my father.
“Do not rush to the press,” I answer, skipping a greeting.
“This is going to be the lead story tomorrow.”
“So have about three dead bodies in Central Park in the last year,” I argue. “The news came and went. This is New York City. It’s just another day in the big apple.” Except for the hanging and missing hands, I think, but I don’t say that.
“This is the governor’s mansion.”
“And the victim may well be a groundskeeper for all we know.”
“How likely is that?”
“Zero, but they don’t know that. I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I heard about the interviews.”
“I’m also having the mayor come to the morgue to try and identify the victim. I want to be there when it happens.”
“You think he’s involved?”
“At this point, we don’t even know who the victim is. Ask me again when I know more. And call Tic Tac. You have his number, right?”
“Yeah, why?”