Endless (26 page)

“By myself?” I was surprised; I hadn’t been
part of the team that long, and this felt like a big
responsibility.

“Don’t panic,” Chelle said. “You know how
often people come in on a Wednesday. Almost never. Just keep
working on your email database, and man the phones. I’m going to
lock the door behind me, just in case. Don’t let in anyone you
don’t know or who doesn’t have ID. Got it?”

“Sure,” I said. “Good luck at the
dentist.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I’m going to need it.
Thanks.”

I watched her leave, twisting the lock and
hurrying off to her car. The office was silent and a little
eerie.

I hunkered down to the dreaded email
database, something that was guaranteed to make even the most
caffeinated person doze. The phone was quiet, and the sun that
poured through the uncovered front windows was warm. I began to
yawn and then to nod. . .

A rattle at the door made me jump as my heart
skittered. Ben Ryan stood outside, motioning for me to open up for
him. Another man stood with him, looking at me with amused
interest.

I unlocked the door and held it open for both
of them.

“Tasmyn, what’s going on? Where is everyone?
Why isn’t Chelle here?” I focused on blocking the frenetic activity
that was Ben’s mind and concentrated instead of his friend, who I
perceived was a journalist.

“Everyone is at that rally in Gainesville, I
guess,” I answered. “And Chelle had to run to the dentist. She had
an emergency.”

Ben muttered something under his breath, and
I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know it wasn’t complimentary
to Chelle.

“Tasmyn, this is Joe Coffrey. He’s doing a
story on Congressman Remington for the Time-Leader, and I’m giving
him an interview today. He may want to talk to the rest of the
staff and the volunteers, but not today, obviously.”

“Chelle told me no one was coming in,” I
explained. “I didn’t expect you. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve had this interview on the schedule for
a week,” Ben groused. “Well, doesn’t matter. We’ll go into the back
office. Try to keep your eyes open, kid, okay?”

I gritted my teeth and nodded. The two men
disappeared behind the closed door, but I could still hear Ben’s
booming voice. I put my hands over my ears and tried to concentrate
on the stupid database again.

“No, I don’t think the congressman is afraid
of Nick Massler.” The loud pronouncement grabbed my attention; I
tilted my head in the direction of the office and tuned my inner
ear to listen to the men’s conversation.

But it’s a poorly kept secret in political
circles that Massler plans to run for the same senate seat
Congressman Remington is planning to seek.
The newspaper man
was looking for a reaction.

Ben laughed in that maddening, condescending
way he had.
Bring him on. The congressman welcomes a worthy
opponent.

Coffrey joined in with a subdued, polite
chuckle.
Yes, but this worthy opponent comes with a lot of
history. They were pretty close friends, I hear. The congressman
was best man at Nick Massler’s wedding.

Ben’s voice tightened.
That was a long
time ago. A very long time ago.

Maybe so.
The journalist paused, and I
realized he was about to aim for the jugular.
Well, would you or
the congressman like to comment on something more recent then? Like
the murder of Helene Gamble?

I nearly jumped to my feet in excitement. I
wanted to go hug Joe Coffrey and thank him for the absolutely
perfect set up he’d just given me.

Ben’s tension was so palpable that even
sitting in the outer room, I could feel it as an ache.
What
would you like to hear? The congressman did not know Ms. Gamble,
but we’ve heard about her death. It’s a tragedy, and all of our
thoughts and prayers go out to her family.

Coffrey’s voice intensified.
But there are
rumors that the police like Nick Massler for her murder. How would
that impact the senate race?

Ben laughed again, but this time it was ugly.
If Massler offed the girl, he’s not going to be free to dabble
in politics anymore. He’ll be more occupied with saving his
own—uhh—skin.

Coffrey was taken aback. I felt his surprise
and near-revulsion.
So, Mr. Ryan. . .do you think Massler did
it?

What I heard next didn’t come from Ben Ryan’s
lips, but instead from a deep interior thought, one he might not
even have been aware that he was thinking.

I don’t think it, I know. Didn’t I set them
up together? And didn’t I have Helene Gamble on a short leash? So
excited that night. . .telling me Massler wanted her to meet him at
his private apartment, a candlelit dinner. . .all dressed up she
went, thinking he was going to propose. Yeah, right. She didn’t
check in and I found her. . .bloody and eyes staring and a mess.
Called it in. . anonymously. . .now just waiting. Just waiting to
see he’s idiot enough to throw his hat in the ring. He does, the
gloves come off. He won’t be the suspect anymore, he’ll be the
perp.

I felt dizzy, even sitting still in the
chair. I almost missed the words Ben spoke aloud.

Nick Massler has a strange history, Joe.
Have you checked it out? Know where he stashed the wife and then
later the daughter? Guy like that will do anything to anyone who
stands in his way.

I felt as thought I were going to be sick.
Nick really had killed Helene. Did he plant me here to keep my
eye—or rather, my ear—on Ben and the congressman? Knowing that even
hearing it, I didn’t have any evidence that I could take to the
police. And Ben. . .he knew it. All along he knew it. He had
planted her in Nick’s life, practically sent her to her death,
though probably he had only intended to use her to get the inside
news on their possible opponent.

I needed to get out of the office, but I knew
I couldn’t leave yet. My stomach heaved and roiled, and I drew in
deep breaths.

The door opened, and one of the other
volunteers walked in.

“Hey,” she greeted me. “Quiet in here, huh?
Where’s Chelle? I got bored at the rally and drove back early. Are
you okay? You look kind of green.”

“I don’t feel well,” I answered. “Chelle is
at the dentist, she should be back in a little bit. Ben is in the
back—doing an interview. Can you take over here? I really just need
to go home.”

“Sure.” She peered at my face, concerned.
“Are you okay to drive? Want me to call anyone?”

Right away I thought of Michael, but the idea
of drawing him into this made me feel sicker yet. I would tell him,
of course, but not yet. There was someone else I needed to see.

“Actually, I think I will call my friend to
come get me.”

Cathryn pulled up to the curb, and I climbed
into the passenger seat. She eyed me suspiciously.

“You’re not going to be sick, are you?
Because I really don’t like people to be sick in my car. We could
park and walk around. That might make you feel better.”

I lay my head back against the seat. “I don’t
think you want people to hear what I have to report. Not this one.
Matter of fact, is Emma really in Gainesville? Because we might
want her to make us a perimeter.”

Cathryn frowned. “Did you do something?
Should we get Zoe?”

I shook my head, keeping my eyes firmly shut.
“Not anything I did, just what I heard. Come on, I’m okay. I
promise not to hurl in your precious car. Just take me back to
campus, okay?”

I felt our speed increase. The farther we
drove away from Ben Ryan and the campaign headquarters, the better
I felt.

“Can you talk now, do you think?” Cathryn
asked.

“I think so.” I proceeded to tell her every
detail of my afternoon, from Chelle’s dental appointment to every
word spoken and thought between Ben Ryan and the journalist.

She was very pale when I finished. “He really
did it?” she murmured. “I can’t believe that.”

“Ben seems to think so. I mean, he didn’t see
it happen, but the circumstantial evidence is pretty damning.”

“It
is
circumstantial, though.”
Cathryn was almost talking to herself.

“Cathryn, I want to go talk to him. Myself,
in person.”

She looked at me as though I’d grown a second
head. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to see Nick Massler. I want to talk
to him and listen to him. I need to know for sure.”

Cathryn shook her head. “Are you crazy? You
want me to send you in to talk to a man whom we are relatively sure
is a murderer? Oh, yes, that’s a grand idea. Wait’ll I tell Michael
that I let you do this. He’d kill me. He made me promise you would
be safe, you know.” She shot me a sidelong glare.

“I won’t be in danger. We won’t tell him what
we heard. But I think if I feed him a little bit of info, I’ll be
able to know if he really is guilty. If he killed Helene.”

She was silent for a few minutes,
considering. “If you go to his house, his staff will be there.
You’ll be safe. I could send Emma with you?”

“No, just me. He knows me. After what
happened with Nell, I really don’t think he’d try anything. And
like I said, I’m not going to confront him. I’ll just drop some
information and see what happens.”

Cathryn drove onto campus and dropped me off
in front of my dorm. “I’ll set it up with him and message you the
info on the secure line. You’ll call me going in and you’ll call me
coming out. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” I said, shutting the car door.

I was happy that Sophie wasn’t in our room. I
went into the shared bathroom, showered and scrubbed my face clean,
put on my sweats and climbed into bed with my homework.

When I opened my eyes, two very concerned
faces were staring down at me. “Hey! I’m sorry, I must have dozed
off. Long day. What time is it? What’s wrong?”

Michael sat down on the edge of my bed. “It’s
after six. I waited for you at the dining hall. You never called me
this afternoon on your way home, and then when you didn’t meet me.
. .” He ran a hand over his face. “I was imagining the worst.”

I saw his eyes skitter across my neck, with
its delicate scars, and I reached out to cover his hand. “I’m so
sorry. I wasn’t feeling well, so I came back early and climbed into
bed. I guess I just zonked.”

“Where’s your car?” Sophie asked. She looked
a little rattled, too. “Michael called me, and I was walking back
from the library. I went through the parking lot, looking for your
work car.”

“I didn’t drive home because I was feeling
sick. Cathryn drove me back to campus.” Michael looked decidedly
suspicious, but I squeezed his hand. “I’m really sorry,” I
repeated. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Sophie stood up from her bed. “Well, I’m
going to get my dinner. Want me to bring you back anything from the
dining hall?”

I shook my head. “Thanks, Sophie, but I’m not
hungry.”

“I’ll get you soup,” Michael announced.
“There’s that place off campus that make the lemon orzo you love.
Doesn’t that sound good?”

I smiled. “That I could eat.”

He dropped a kiss on my cheek and whispered
in my ear, “We’ll talk when I get back.”

The next morning, there was a simple message
in the secure email.

4 PM today. Your car has been returned to
the lot. Keys are in the glove compartment. The address is
programmed into your GPS. Go through the back door. You will be
expected.

Michael had accepted my explanation that I
was just overtired. If he was slightly skeptical, he didn’t voice
his thoughts.

I zombie-walked through my morning classes.
At lunch, I went back to my room, heated up the soup from the night
before and sipped on it while I texted Michael that I had to do
something for work that afternoon and promised to call him on my
way back to campus.