Chapter 20 #2
Dead? The idea that he hadn’t used the word murdered struck her as odd considering the context of the discussion thus far.
Murder was by far the better choice when paired with alibi.
Regardless of who had pulled the trigger, she understood that Holderfield had been murdered. “And you believe he was murdered?”
“We haven’t ruled out that possibility,” Lynch said, steering clear of a simple yes or no.
“We do know,” Tanner pointed out, “that he had an appointment with you last evening after five.”
Now, there was something he would never be able to verify.
“Actually,” she countered, “I had no appointments last evening.” She took note of the time once more, further agitating Tanner.
“I had drinks with a friend around five-thirty and returned home shortly before seven. I’m certain you can confirm that as well through the FBI’s surveillance.
Or perhaps you know something the feds don’t.
” That she spoke so candidly about the surveillance didn’t appear to sit well with Tanner or Lynch.
Her last remark had the desired effect. Tanner glowered at her but made no further accusations regarding her surveillance.
“You had no business dealings with Dr. Holderfield?” Lynch queried.
“We chatted from time to time regarding various fundraising efforts. As administrator of one of the most celebrated hospitals in this city, he or a member of his staff often called upon my expertise.”
Tanner scrutinized her posture, her expression. He was looking for an angle to snare her without exposing himself. She had worked very hard for many years to conquer her emotions and reactions, as she did with all that she sought to learn. Tanner wouldn’t find what he was looking for.
“When did you last speak with him?” Lynch prodded.
She gave the impression of mulling over the question.
“I can’t recall the date.” Annette stared directly at Tanner then.
“But the last time Dr. Holderfield and I spoke he was very much alive. Although, I will say that he appeared very upset. His son was missing, and he was extremely agitated.” She glanced at her watch again.
“Really, gentlemen, if you have no more questions, I have a pressing appointment.”
Tanner seethed.
Lynch looked from the DDA to her once more. His instincts were no doubt humming. “Be aware, ma’am,” he warned, “that we may need to question you again once we’ve confirmed the information you’ve given us.”
Annette nodded. “I’m happy to cooperate. But now, I really must go.” She wondered if half this effort was being expended to solve Jazel Ramirez’s death. Of course not. She was no one. Insignificant.
“Thank you for your time.” Lynch closed his notepad and led the way to the door.
Tanner followed but not without pausing to look back once. Those dark eyes targeted hers, and she froze. In the five or so seconds that he held her gaze she understood indisputably that he wasn’t finished yet.
“In the event charges are filed, Ms. Baxter,” he said with a knowing look, “is there anyone we should call? A relative perhaps?”
Alarm flared.
Impossible.
He was guessing. Fishing for a reaction.
Whatever he thought he knew, he would not win this battle.
They were both good at censoring outward displays and manipulating others, but she had far more years of hardcore experience under her belt. He should admit defeat now.
“If the need arises,” she responded, “I’ll call my attorney.”
The corners of Tanner’s mouth lifted ever so slightly, and then he walked away.
Uncertainty congealed in her stomach.
He knew something. But how? That was impossible.
If he had discovered her sister . . . he would have used that knowledge already.
Annette could not let that happen.
12:45 p.m.
Birmingham
Jefferson County Courthouse
Mayor Gordon Duke represented Birmingham’s old school.
He served as mayor for the power and prestige, but he lived lavishly on the money he had inherited from his daddy.
Educated at Auburn, he was an Alabama boy through and through.
He’d made his share of enemies, but most of Birmingham’s citizens looked up to him as if he were the second coming of Christ.
Even at quarter of one on a Saturday his office was bustling with activity. The hallowed halls of the courthouse provided the perfect setting for his ego. Always plenty of attention and no end to the ways to get into other people’s business.
“Ms. Baxter.”
Annette looked up from her phone as the mayor’s secretary approached. Annette had been waiting in the mayor’s private lobby for around fifteen minutes. He’d done that on purpose. Made her wait the same as she had been forced to make him.
“Yes.” Annette produced the requisite smile.
“The mayor will see you now.”
Annette uncrossed her ankles and rose from her chair. She followed the secretary, who matched the decor perfectly: antiquated yet classic.
They approached the mayor’s office. His door was open, and he was shaking hands with two gentlemen. His guests wore elegant business suits befitting a visit to this esteemed office. Both looked to be in their late forties to mid-fifties. Their mission was anyone’s guess.
“Ms. Baxter,” Gordon Duke proclaimed, drawing the attention of his guests to her arrival.
“Come on in.” He met her in the middle of his vast office and gave her a welcoming but brisk hug.
“It’s always a pleasure.” He drew back but didn’t release her shoulders.
“Let me introduce you to two movers and shakers who are determined to invest in our fine city.”
Introductions were made leaving her less than impressed, and final handshakes were exchanged. Each man nodded politely to Annette as he passed on his way out. The secretary checked to see if Annette needed anything then closed the door.
The bright smile on the mayor’s face vanished before the thud of the door stopped echoing in the room. “What the hell do you want?”
Annette lowered her bag onto the closest chair and folded her arms over her chest. When she’d studied the mayor’s well-maintained face and glowering eyes for just long enough to infuriate him all the more, she said, “The same thing you want, Gordon. Power, money, respect.” She offered her palms in confusion.
“It’s that last one I seem to be having trouble with lately. ”
His lips curled into a hateful sneer. “What would a whore like you know about respect?”
She laughed softly. “I know your definition of a whore, Gordon, and I certainly don’t fit into that category. That little hottie who serves as your latest intern, now, there’s a whore.”
“Go to hell,” he snarled.
He wished.
For half a lifetime, Gordon Duke had screwed anything that would lie still for him and some that wouldn’t.
One such encounter had ended rather abruptly and quite badly.
But Annette had resolved his problem. That had been five years ago.
He’d been in her debt ever since. Now she was about to call in his marker.
“State your business,” he snapped. “The sooner you’re out of here the happier I’ll be.”
Predictable. Clients were always eager to please and sucked up to her when they needed her, but after she had fixed their problem and gotten their balls out of the vise, they turned into rude, belligerent assholes.
It was a vicious cycle. The trouble was, somehow they—they being men—were never able to stop themselves from fucking up.
“I’m calling in your marker, Gordon. Take care of this problem for me and we’ll be even. ”
Suspicion joined the fury clouding his face. “What kind of problem?”
“Someone has grown a backbone. I think you and I both know who that someone is. I need you to find out what his end game is so that I can neutralize the situation before it becomes a problem for certain high-value clients.”
Rage glittered in the mayor’s too-wide-set eyes. “Is that a threat?” Like all her clients when faced with paying up, his posture went rigid and fire practically blazed from his flaring nostrils.
“Yes, Gordon,” she said calmly. “That is a threat.”
Then he did the exact opposite of what she expected.
He laughed.
Long and loud.
She kept her surprise as well as her annoyance in check. She would not give him the satisfaction. “What do you find so amusing?”
“You.” He laughed some more, had to wipe his eyes. “Take my advice, prepare for a major lifestyle change.” All signs of mirth disappeared. “Because you are definitely fucked.”
She acknowledged his defiance with a nod. “Then you’re no longer concerned with the evidence I have at my disposal.”
A vile grin spread across his face. “Not in the least, you loathsome bitch. My back is covered.” He tilted his head in disdain. “Can you say the same?”
“Well.” She reached for her bag. “I’m glad to see our fearless city leader has finally sprouted some balls.” She started to turn away but thought better of it. “Just remember, I know all your secrets. If I go down, I won’t be alone.”
She left the office, and oddly the halls had cleared as if everyone present had known that a storm was brewing.
Much to her displeasure, it was. And she was dead center in its path.
As she climbed into her Lexus, her cell buzzed. One look at the display and she knew her life was about to get exponentially more complicated.