Extreme Exposure (32 page)

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Authors: Pamela Clare

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary

BOOK: Extreme Exposure
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“That’s a lie, Senator!” Stan’s face grew red. “We got a bloody tarp pulled out of a trash bin behind your condo. We got an eyewitness who swears he saw a man fitting your description dump a woman’s body in the park and drive away
at oh-one-hundred. The numbers he saw on the license plate are a match for yours, Senator. You were there! You killed her!”

Reece kept his voice calm, well aware that the interview was being watched from the other side of the one-way mirror. “No, sir, I didn’t, but someone clearly wants you to think I did. I slept alone in my condo until six this morning, when I got up, went to the gym, showered, and then came into the Capitol.”

In truth he’d lain awake half the night, thinking not of Alexis and his petty argument with her, but of Kara, who was somewhere out there. Surely by now she’d seen the news and knew he was a suspect. Would she believe him guilty? Would she want to put off their relationship until he was cleared? Had she found the TexaMent connection and decided he was nothing but a liar?

Worse than the potential damage to his political career, worse than the knowledge that someone wanted to destroy him, was his fear that he’d lost any chance he’d had at building a life with her.

He loved her.

He wasn’t sure when he’d realized it. Perhaps when, afraid and in pain, she’d admitted that she needed him. Perhaps the first time she’d come for him, lost herself against his hand. Perhaps that first night when she’d had too much to drink and had given him a hard-on just by asking ridiculous questions.

A part of him still struggled to grasp what was happening. He’d just gotten to his desk at the Capitol when two police officers had showed up at his office and begun to question him. He hadn’t known Alexis was dead until they’d told him. The news had stunned Reece, but no more so than the realization that he was a suspect. He’d answered all their questions, and when they’d asked to search his Jeep and his office, he had been happy to comply. Then they’d found the Sphinx.

They didn’t seem to care that he had a concealed-carry
permit. In a blink, they’d gotten a warrant to search his home and had continued to badger him for details regarding his whereabouts last night and his relationship with Alexis. Within an hour, a forensics team claimed to have found a blood-soaked canvas tarp in the trash bin behind his house and he’d become not only a suspect, but their prime suspect.

It was like a nightmare, only Reece couldn’t seem to wake up.

Charlie gave Reece a sympathetic nod of the head. “I understand, Senator. Really I do. You’re in a new relationship now with the reporter. You’ve been under a lot of strain with her being attacked and almost killed. Up comes Alexis Ryan. She insults your new girlfriend, and it all crashes in on you. You pop. It happens every day. Admit that you killed her in an uncontrollable rage, and you’re looking at murder two. With your record—”

Reece leaned forward, disgusted. “I didn’t kill her! I didn’t so much as touch her! Someone is trying to frame me here! Do you really think I’d be so stupid as to murder someone and keep evidence of the crime in my briefcase?”

Stan glared at him. “When the forensics come in on this you’re going to be arrested and then you’re going to fry!”

Reece rolled his eyes. “Actually, the current means of execution in Colorado is lethal injection.”

“You’re a real smart ass, aren’t you buddy?”

The door opened, and Chief Irving stepped in. “Charlie, Stan, take five.”

The two cops stood, shared a questioning look, and then strode out of the room.

Irving shut the door behind them, pushed back a chair, and sat. “Hell of a day you’re having, Senator.”

Reece leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah.”

“I’m going to tell you something that might surprise you.”

“What could that be?”

“I believe you. I don’t think you had a damned thing to do with Ms. Ryan’s murder.”

Reece met Irving’s gaze and saw that he wasn’t joking. “Why is that, Chief?”

“For one thing, forensics turned up no trace of blood in your Jeep. Nada. It seems unlikely to me that you could transport her body in a blood-soaked tarp and not get a single drop of blood in your vehicle. That casts some doubt on our anonymous tipster. If he saw your Jeep dumping the body, there should be blood. If there’s no blood, I don’t see how it could be your Jeep, and our tipster could be lying.”

That was the best news Reece had heard in hours. “I didn’t kill her.”

“I know it.” Irving nodded. “For another thing, the lab says there was no powder residue on your skin, and your piece hasn’t been fired since the last time you cleaned it.”

The suffocating knot of dread that had been building in Reece’s chest began to loosen. “The last time I fired it was about six months ago.”

“But more than that, Senator, I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to commit a homicide, drive the body to a highly public location, throw a tarp with the victim’s blood on it into your own damned trash can, and then keep the weapon on you. You might be a politician, but you’re not an idiot.”

Despite his situation, Reece grinned. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”

“It all goes together too well. An anonymous tip leads us to the body, gives us your license plate number and the make and model of your vehicle. The victim has a sexual history with you, a history that includes public confrontations. The bloody tarp is found behind your building. A weapon is found in your possession. Hell, this case is wrapped up so pretty you might as well put a bow on it. I’ve been a cop for thirty years, and my gut tells me something’s off.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all morning.”

“Of course, we’re still waiting for the autopsy results and ballistic tests. If the slugs that come out of her brain match your weapon, you’re going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble.
In the meantime, you might be able to cut through some of the bullshit by agreeing to a polygraph.”

“Fine. I said I’d cooperate, and I meant it. The sooner your officers quit wasting time with me the sooner they’ll find the real murderer.”

Irving nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’ve got a question for you myself.”

“Ask it.”

“Who’s out to get you, Senator?”

CHAPTER 24

K
ARA TRIED
to focus on the papers in her hands but found it almost impossible to keep her gaze off the television. At least once an hour, the local stations ran the footage of Reece being escorted down the steps and into the squad car, together with an update from outside the Denver Justice Center. There was nothing new to report, but it was clear that behind the scenes the research drones were digging.

The noon broadcast painted Reece as a good man who’d possibly gone wrong and included the photograph of him shouting into Galen’s face. By one, he was a man with a dark side whose dislike for the victim and unpredictable temper were common knowledge at the Capitol. This time, the photo of him shouting at Galen was contrasted with photographs of Alexis Ryan as an innocent schoolgirl and a beautiful, successful woman. By two, they’d gotten an interview with the victim’s weeping parents, whose grief was juxtaposed with Reece’s fury.

Kara sat on the carpeted floor surrounded by documents, her stomach tied in knots of helpless rage. She knew lynch-mob reporting when she saw it. There wasn’t one shred of forensic evidence to tie Reece to the lobbyist’s death, yet he’d already been tried and convicted in the media. The man they described was not the man she knew, but she couldn’t very well speak out publicly on his behalf, not when she, too, was investigating him.

My God, had she actually been thinking of calling one of the news stations and complaining about their coverage? Yes, she had. The thought pushed her to her feet, and she began to pace the room.

What exactly would she have said? He can’t have murdered anyone because he was kind and gentle with my son? He’s innocent because no man who makes love like he does could ever kill a woman? He didn’t kill anyone because I’m in love with him?

The realization drove the air from her lungs. She sank into an armchair and buried her face in her hands.
So much for objectivity, McMillan
.

Perhaps she should turn this story over to someone else. Perhaps her mind was so clouded with emotion that she was unable to do her job. After all, Reece, through his tire-burning bill, was the only member of the Legislative Audit Committee she’d been able to tie to Northrup, but she still refused to believe he was involved with any of this.

Would she have felt the same way if she didn’t know him personally?

No. She would have looked at the evidence objectively, and she would have assumed she’d found the guilty party.

And she would have been wrong.

It was a strange realization that left Kara feeling unsettled. She’d made a career out of piecing facts together. She’d followed logic, followed the evidence, and it had never led her astray. And now she was ready to toss both facts and logic out the window for some kind of—what? Emotional insight?

What a damned mess this is.

She leaned back in the chair, took as deep a breath as her healing ribs would allow, and fought to clear her mind. Her investigation was incomplete. Like a puzzle with too many pieces missing, the picture created by the information she’d acquired so far was deceptive. She didn’t know what the missing pieces were, but she needed to find them.

Her next thought had her sitting upright, pulse racing.
What if whoever was after her had killed Alexis Ryan? What if whoever wanted her dead was trying to hurt Reece now that she was beyond their reach? After all, media coverage of the attack had linked the two of them. Whoever was trying to kill her surely knew she and Reece were at least friends. Or what if Reece had uncovered something during his own investigation that they didn’t want him to know?

She stood and went back to pacing. What did they stand to gain by framing him with murder? Why not simply kill him? Why keep him around?

She stopped and almost laughed. They needed his vote. That had to be it. He was sponsoring a bill beneficial to Northrup, and they needed that bill to pass. Framing him for murder would tie him up and shred his credibility, at least until he was cleared. But it wouldn’t prevent him from voting.

Movement on the television screen caught her eye. She turned up the volume.

“—has just stepped out of the building, and we’re told that he’s going to make a statement.”

Cameras focused on Chief Irving, who faced the media gauntlet looking like a man who’d already had his fill of bullshit for the day. He stepped up to the dozens of microphones that were thrust in his face, waited for quiet, and then read from a written statement. “Today, police questioned State Senator Reece Sheridan extensively based on the circumstantial evidence against him in the homicide of lobbyist Alexis Ryan. Sheridan, who submitted voluntarily to questioning without benefit of counsel, cooperated fully with investigators, undergoing a polygraph test, which he passed, and submitting a blood sample for DNA testing. The police department is not seeking an arrest warrant against the senator at this time. Pending the outcome of forensic testing, Senator Sheridan remains a person of interest in this case.”

Then Irving turned away from the crowd, ignoring the explosion of shouted questions, and disappeared back into the justice center.

Kara smiled despite her nerves. The impromptu press conference had served its purpose—to disseminate information and to distract the media throng so Reece could leave unobserved. They’d probably gotten him out in an unmarked squad car via the underground parking garage. She’d been fooled that way once—but only once.

Suddenly Kara needed to speak with Reece so badly it hurt. The last time they’d talked, she’d been angry with him. She’d made him think she didn’t care enough about their relationship to fight for it. Well, he was wrong. She cared plenty. More than that, she believed in him. If nothing else, she wanted him to know that.

She crossed the room, picked up the secured phone line, and dialed his cell.

R
EECE THANKED
the officer who’d driven him back to the Capitol and then shut the passenger door. He strode up the east steps, grateful that the ravening media horde was currently being distracted by Chief Irving’s press conference over at the justice center. He needed to get to his desk. He had work to do.

He opened the heavy doors and walked into the rotunda. Every head turned his way, and the cacophony of voices faded to a stony silence. People he thought he knew well—colleagues, friends, and staff—stared at him with blatant suspicion and contempt. Carol from Senate Finance. Alan, the sergeant-at-arms. Even Brooke, his own intern.

Walking with deliberate slowness, he made his way through the unnatural hush to the rose-colored marble stairs and took them one at a time, fighting to keep the anger off his face. Whispers. Muttered curses. The heat of a hundred people staring into his back.

The hallway outside his office was no better. People stopped talking and glared. He unlocked his office door, closed it behind him, leaned back against it, and slowly released the breath he’d been holding. Chief Irving had
warned him it would be tough, but Reece hadn’t expected to feel so . . .
defeated.

“You’ll find out who your real friends are, that’s for damned sure,” the chief had said.

How could anyone who knew him believe him capable of cold-blooded murder? Sharp disappointment twined with a sense of betrayal, rose like bile at the back of his throat. For two years, he’d played this game. He’d tried to serve as an example, tried to show his students and the public that a person could make more of a difference by following the rules than by bending and breaking them. And where had it gotten him?

Today he’d been led like a criminal down the steps of the Capitol with the world watching. People he’d trusted now believed he was a murderer. Kara was likely lost to him forever. And Alexis was dead. As much as he’d disliked her, Reece grieved for her. They’d been lovers once, after all, and her last moments had been lived in terror and brutality. The image of her, sprawled lifeless on the grass, flashed into his mind.

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