Twisted Hunger (11 page)

“I hope I am. Did you have anything to share with me?”

Remembering to avoid specific names, Ellery briefly told him about going through the senator’s office and her impressions of him thus far, including her belief that he had nothing to do with a certain woman’s
accident
. “There was one small thing… I’m not even sure it’s worth mentioning.”

He urged her to tell him everything.

“When he spoke of the woman, he said she was going down the stairs, rather than up, but it could have simply been a mistake. I think you might just have to give up your search for flaws. He’s practically perfect.”

He was quiet for a moment then said, “Perhaps you need to consider a more
personal
approach.”

Ellery bristled. “I certainly hope you didn’t mean that the way it sounded, because I would never agree to such a thing. Besides, it would not be possible in this case. He adores his wife. The reason there haven’t been any sex scandals around him is that he is completely faithful to her. Everyone knows that. Believe me, I’ve been around enough men to know when they—”

“You misunderstood me,” Brevowski interjected. “If we had thought he could be gotten to in that way, there are a number of other, more qualified women whom we could have called upon. I was referring to a more personal
location
.”

“Oh.” She was relieved that he wasn’t suggesting she try to seduce Jones into giving up his secrets, but she was less than thrilled that he was expecting her to get into the man’s private home to look around.

“I’ve always thought it was very curious that a person of his stature would be so insistent on driving his own car, even for rather long distances. Don’t you think that’s somewhat peculiar?”

“Not necessarily. Perhaps he has a fear of flying.”

“But why not use a professional driver?”

“Maybe he finds driving relaxing. I occasionally take a long drive in the country to unwind.”

“Point taken. But what about his reluctance to employ personal security guards?”

Ellery clucked her tongue. “It’s common knowledge that he promised to cut back on administrative expenses. One of the areas he trimmed was personal security. I tend to agree with his opinion that a leader who is afraid to go out in public without an entourage of guards is sending a negative message to his people. He strongly believes in being accessible.”

Brevowski’s tone of voice let her know his patience had run out. “I am very aware of all his purported beliefs. And if you don’t feel you can continue on an impartial basis—”

“I never promised to remain impartial. But I
am
committed to continuing, if for no other reason than to prove that you’re wrong about him. I don’t know what good it would do, but I suppose I could find a way to check his car.”

“And his residences?”

“If the opportunity arises.”

“Create an opportunity. Soon. Was there anything else?”

Ellery was more than ready to end this conversation, but there was one other matter that she knew he would have an opinion about. “Big Brother asked me out to dinner. Should I accept or not?”

“It’s a toss-up. He’s been thoroughly checked out and, frankly, no one believes he knows anything of value. Plus, if you ask him too many questions, he may get spooked and report your curiosity to his brother. On the other hand, if you were very careful, you just might learn something that no one else has been able to. After all, it’s well known that they often travel together, and he does spend a lot of weekends at the northern residence.”

Ellery interpreted that as meaning Teddy may have been present the evening of her mother’s heart attack. That cinched it. She would definitely have to spend some personal time with him as soon as possible.

“I believe we should end our conversation now,” Brevowski stated abruptly. “You’re drawing a bit too much attention from the bellmen. Remember, trust no one—particularly a new acquaintance or someone attempting to revive an old friendship.”

She hung up and headed out to her car. In between their conversations, she could almost forget that she was involved in a deception. She liked Senator Jones. She also liked most of the aspects of her job and could see how the experience and contacts could be used to her benefit later on. On the other hand, she didn’t care for Brevowski, and she definitely disliked reporting to him.

For the umpteenth time she told herself it was only temporary, and that something good would eventually come from her sneaking around. Because of her doing everything they asked, Brevowski and friends would be forced to accept the fact that Abraham Lincoln Jones would be named as Sam Erikson’s running mate.

The only thing that was strange about Senator Jones was that he was an anomaly—a good, honorable politician.

* * *

Brevowski waited until he saw Miss Winters get into her car and drive off, then made another call. The first series of numbers he pressed activated a scrambler that would prevent anyone from tapping in to discover what number he was calling or the content of the subsequent conversation.

The second set of numbers routed the call to a server in Canada for further misdirection before finally ringing through to a private telephone in Washington, D.C.

“Hello?”

It sounded like Sam Erikson’s voice, but as a final security measure, Brevowski gave him that day’s alpha-numeric code. After the senator gave the proper response, Brevowski said, “I just spoke with Mata Hari.”

“Has she come up with anything we can use?”

“Not yet, but she’s being completely cooperative.”

“She’s well motivated to be cooperative, but I still don’t see how she’s going to come up with something big enough to keep him off my ticket when the entire FBI couldn’t find a single hair out of place.”

“She’ll find it. She just needs a little time.”

“My
friends
are beginning to sweat. One in particular keeps calling for a swift elimination of the threat.”

Brevowski knew Erikson was referring to the Japanese representative of the consortium of international businessmen who were secretly backing him. Jones’ outspoken proposal for revising the import laws had them running scared.

“If only he weren’t such a damned liberal… but Jesus, this guy—

“As you said to me originally, sir,” Brevowski said, cutting Erikson off before he could get on his soapbox, “there have been too many swift
eliminations
of politicians in recent decades. Even if we could get away with it, history shows us that assassinations turn the victims into heroes or martyrs, and planting false evidence can backfire too easily. You told me that you don’t want to risk immortalizing this man and all that he stands for. You’ll be much further ahead if he’s legitimately discredited.”

“And I still hold with that attitude. But we’re running out of time.”

Brevowski didn’t care for the unnecessary reminder. “Do I still have until July fourth, or has that changed?”

“The timetable hasn’t changed. You’ve still got a few weeks, but everyone would be a lot happier if the matter of my running mate were concluded tomorrow.”

* * *

Erikson ended the call after listening to a few more of Brevowski’s assurances, but he was feeling far from reassured.

Luring Brevowski away from his career as an FBI agent a few years ago had not been very difficult. He was personally dissatisfied with recent policy changes, and he was in serious financial trouble due to a costly divorce and several bad investments. The consortium had originally hired Brevowski as a troubleshooter/investigator because of his reputation for clean, thorough investigative work and extreme discretion. But it was beginning to look like the straight and narrow path could be a dead-end on this one.

His backers had mostly economic reasons for not wanting to see Jones one seat away from the presidency. His reasons were more personal—he simply couldn’t trust the man not to upstage him. Despite the party’s desire to present the definitive balanced ticket, Erikson firmly believed that there were some liberal viewpoints that not only shouldn’t be endorsed, but shouldn’t even be discussed by a loyal Republican. Homosexual rights was one of those issues that Jones openly supported, but his opinion that the United States should convert to a flat rate income tax system bordered on treason as far as Erikson’s friends and family were concerned.

The media liked Jones far too much, which translated to his radical ideas getting publicity, and it was impossible to predict what the masses might insist on if they were prodded hard enough.

They could not risk letting Abraham Lincoln Jones anywhere near the White House… even if the slogan guys would have a heyday with a ticket combo of “Uncle Sam” and “Honest Abe”. No, the party’s second choice would be much more malleable.

Erikson concluded that it was necessary to have a backup plan ready in case Brevowski’s neat and tidy method failed to bring results. It was time to call in a different sort of professional… one who was not so squeamish about swift eliminations.

* * *

“I feel like I’m in a damn straitjacket,” Terrell complained, tugging at his shirt collar.

As they entered the elevator that would take them to the mezzanine, where the senator’s cocktail reception was being held, Luke shared a grin with Maria. “If you weren’t built like a tree, you might have been able to find a jacket big enough for both your shoulders.”

Maria reached up and straightened Terrell’s bow tie. “You may be uncomfortable, but you look mahvelous, dahling. We
all
look mahvelous!” She turned and posed as though modeling the gold strapless gown that showed off her tan skin and ample bosom.

Maria wasn’t beautiful in a classic sense, but Luke thought she was one of the funniest ladies he’d ever met. If he hadn’t known her profession in advance, he would have guessed at least a hundred different lines of work before imagining her as a law enforcement officer. According to Terrell, however, she had an outstanding performance record and every officer on her squad highly respected her.

The long drive to Sacramento had given Luke plenty of opportunity to form an opinion of her, and his conclusion was that Terrell had finally found a good match. Maybe Maria was that soul mate he was always looking for.

As they exited the elevator, a tuxedoed security officer directed them to the registration table. After showing their invitations and identification, their names were checked against the guest list. More tuxedoed guards scanned them with metal detectors—partly to make sure none of the guest law enforcement officers had disobeyed the order to leave all weapons behind.

From the clearing area, they were escorted to a long receiving line at the entrance of a large, fairly crowded room.

Luke shook hands with several men and women, all of whose names and positions were completely erased from his mind the instant he saw the goddess standing near the end of the line.
Statuesque
was the first word that came to mind. She had the look of a high fashion model. The slinky, emerald green, sequined gown perfectly complemented her hair. It was the color of rich mahogany and the chic twist styling showed off an exquisite face of perfect features.

Terrell nudged his arm to get him to move down the line. “Hey!” he whispered. “Did you step in gum or what?” His gaze followed Luke’s. “Oh-ho. I should have known. If there’s a beautiful woman within a hundred yards, your radar activates. But you better put a clamp on it this time, man. I think that one’s probably out of your league.”

“What kind of thing is that to say to your best friend?” He nodded politely to the woman he was meeting then his gaze slid back to the redhead.

“First of all,” Terrell said in a low voice, “she’s got Attitude, with a capital A. From the way she keeps scanning the room in between greetings, I’d say she’s one of the people in charge of this little get-together. But if that’s not enough to discourage you, the man on her left is Brandon Ross, the actor. As pretty as your face is, you can’t compete with that.”

Luke shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. She just may be ready to meet an average guy off the street.”

Brandon Ross looked exactly like he did on television. As Luke moved closer to him, he realized how impressed some of his students would be to hear about this encounter. It wouldn’t matter to many of them that he’d met the man who was probably going to be the next vice president, but slapping palms with Jack Morgan, Private Eye, well…
that
was very slick. Personally, however, he was more interested in meeting one of the two ladies in between them.

Finally, he had met Brandon Ross and was standing in front of
her
. As he offered his hand, he gave her his most charming smile.

“Good evening,” she said, with the same smile she was giving everyone else. “May I present Senator and Mrs. Jones.”

The pass was so smooth, he was already shaking hands with Mrs. Jones before he realized that the goddess hadn’t exchanged names with him, so he spoke clearly enough for her to hear his own introduction. “How do you do, ma’am. I’m Lucas Madigan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She was almost the same height as Jones, but her dark hair and eyes made her appear much more vivid than her fair husband. She had a well-maintained look about her that Luke associated with wealthy middle-aged women.