Chapter 34 #2
Fury crammed against her sternum. She pivoted on her heel and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about our relationship.”
Another of those condescending waves of his hand. “Enlighten me.”
“Otis is like a father to me. He took me in, taught me how to play with the big boys. How to make myself invaluable. He showed me how to save Paula and myself.” She owed him everything.
Annette worked at calming her emotions before continuing. Emotions worked against one at a time like this. She had to be cool, in control.
“I’m curious.” Carson propped his right ankle on his left knee. “What exactly did he teach you?”
“How to glean and use knowledge.” She faced him now.
“How to take a problem and solve it and gain money and markers doing so. He introduced me to Birmingham society, helped me become indispensable to those whose most valuable asset is reputation. I am particularly adept at reversing a situation with the utmost discretion.”
He scrutinized her as if she were a bug he intended to squash beneath his shoe with his next move.
“Give me an example.”
“Dr. Dwight Holderfield.” His name came to mind first considering recent events. “If you recall, a couple of years ago there was a situation at his hospital. A patient died and the family sued the hospital and the physician involved; they even threatened to sue Holderfield personally.”
“The suit as well as the investigation were dropped,” he acknowledged. “The hospital evidently settled. Keller Luttrell was involved on some level with the investigation.”
Oh, yes, Keller Luttrell. A man she despised, but who easily gave in to temptation when it came to money and glory. “Yes. Holderfield’s career was on the line. Apparently, he altered the records to cover the physician’s mistake. He was terrified that the tampering would be discovered.”
The look on Carson’s face told her he found the whole scenario disgusting. “You bribed the family into dropping the allegations.”
She shook her head. “Not exactly.”
His gaze narrowed. “How exactly did you make that happen?”
“Simple.” She returned that unmerciful stare. “I dug up the deceased’s one skeleton in the closet and threatened to expose his drug use, which could have contributed to his unexpected demise considering he hadn’t given the hospital that information.”
“So you dug up all this dirt and used it to manipulate the grieving family.”
The renewed disgust in his tone kick-started her defense mode. “Your sins always find you out.” One of her foster mothers had loved spouting Bible verses. Made her feel superior.
“Nice.”
Annette knew that tone. To him she was plain white trash, evil, capable of anything. Who was he to throw stones? He and his kind helped killers get away with murder all the time. All in the name of the law. Screw him.
She walked over to the chair facing the sofa, facing him, and took a seat.
She smoothed a hand over her navy skirt.
She’d chosen it because it was short and sexy yet still gave off a professional air.
The white blouse was skintight and buttoned to the throat.
She had needed that facade. If it kept him off balance, all the better.
“I do what I have to do. We’re alike in that way, I believe. ”
The comment hit its mark. His expression darkened. “Fundraising is your cover.”
“Yes. But, as you are well aware, I’m very, very good at ferreting money from the most unlikely places.” Knowledge was power. Her clients never failed to give generously. Elizabeth Drake had nothing on her.
“You apparently have some powerful clients.”
“Name any powerful man in this city and I can put a checkmark on my client list.” She looked Carson dead in the eye. “Including Drake and Wainwright.”
He still didn’t completely believe her; that was obvious. But he would. Very soon now.
“What did you mean, money and markers?”
That part had been her idea. Otis had praised her for her resourcefulness. A man like Otis Fleming didn’t offer praise often. “I never complete a service for cash only. There’s always a marker held in reserve. If I ever need a favor, the marker is called in.”
She lifted her chin in defiance of what he no doubt thought of that.
“I never fail a client and a client never fails me,” she explained.
“We have an unwritten contract, and we never meet in person after the initial contact. There is never any link between us. I take clients by personal recommendation only.” Any meetings after the first one were accomplished by videoconference via a secure link.
The link bounced all over the internet. No one could trace it back to her.
“What exactly,” Carson ventured, “is the nature of your business relationship with Fleming?”
That one was simple. “I provide him with secrets he can use to manipulate the cooperation of those who might otherwise block his efforts. Occasionally I resolve a problem with someone who isn’t cooperating, but that doesn’t happen often.
I don’t have direct access to his business dealings, but I’ve made it a point to know what he does. ”
“And what does he do?”
“He facilitates the needs of anyone who offers the right price.” Her pulse sped up at the idea of what she was about to say.
“If someone in, say, New York needs something to happen in Birmingham, Otis arranges it. If a drug cartel needs to extend territory, he buys the real estate, if you know what I mean. Men like Wainwright and Drake protect him.” Protected her until recently.
Carson sat forward, bracing his forearms on his knees.
“I’m not saying I believe Drake and Wainwright are or were involved with you or Fleming, but we’ll set that aside for the moment.
Right now, I need the whole truth about what happened to my family.
And how Dane plays into it.” He leveled a look at her that related just how serious he was.
Dead serious. “If you lie to me on any part, no matter how insignificant, I will see that you spend the rest of your life in prison—your mentor, too.”
Poor Carson. He still thought truth and justice would prevail. Not a snowball’s chance in hell. No matter. She had made her decision. Let him believe what he would.
“Fair enough.” She crossed one leg over the other and, to her dismay, savored the way his gaze followed the movement.
“As I told you, August fifteenth Wainwright hired me to carry a proposition to Stokes. I was to inform him of the deal and then ensure that he was persuaded. Not that it was difficult. Stokes knew he would get caught sooner rather than later and that he would most likely be facing a death sentence. Under the circumstances, my job was simple. He added only one addendum to the proposal.”
“Five minutes alone with me.”
She nodded.
Carson considered that a moment then said, “But you can’t prove Wainwright hired you to go to Stokes.”
“Other than Stokes’s word,” she admitted, “which you heard for yourself. Then on the eighteenth, Wainwright visited him personally. There is, of course, no proof of that, either.”
“You suggested that Wainwright went to these lengths to cover up the identity of the real murderer?”
“He wanted to help Senator Drake. Dane is his only son, after all, and the senator has taken extreme and numerous measures to keep him out of trouble. I can vouch for that.”
Carson shot to his feet. “That’s certainly convenient.” He threaded his fingers through that thick dark hair. Her fingers curled into balls of resistance. “The man is dead. He can’t exactly defend himself.”
“What it is,” she said, “is damned lucky for you that I’m willing to give you this information at all.” Fury tightened her lips. She forced it back. “This is what I do. It’s all I have, and the steps I’ve taken in the past twenty-four hours end it. I’ll have nothing.”
He braced his hands on his hips and turned another of those fierce glares on her. “All right, for the sake of argument, let’s go with that. Why would Dane murder my family?”
“I can’t answer that question. I can’t even guarantee that he did. I only know that he had the rings in his possession and was frantic to get them back. He kept going on about some secret.”
That muscle that always ticked in Carson’s jaw when his tension rose had started its rhythmic flexing.
“But Dane knows something about it,” she considered aloud. “And if he didn’t kill them, someone he knows did, otherwise he wouldn’t have had the rings.”
Carson lowered back onto the sofa.
Annette concentrated hard to remember all Dane had said that night. She’d been focused on hiding the rings and getting rid of the murder weapon and the body. “He mentioned something about all the blood and how he hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone.”
Yeah, that was right. He kept repeating the same things over and over.
“But . . . that doesn’t mean he killed anyone,” Carson argued. “There was a lot of talk and media pandemonium about the . . . scene. The drugs probably skewed his memory.” The low monotone of Carson’s voice told her he was fighting a serious case of denial.
“There were things”—Annette hesitated, trying to think exactly how Dane had worded his delirious ranting—“he knew that no one except someone who’d been on the scene could have known.”
“Such as.”
“Something about placement of the bodies.” Annette shook her head. “That’s about all he said that was in any way sensible.”
Carson closed his eyes against the images no doubt evoked in his mind.
“You know he had a drug problem even then,” she suggested, hoping to lessen the blow somewhat.
Those dark eyes opened and his pained gaze fixed on hers. “Drugs or not, I cannot believe that Dane would have hurt my family. That’s simply too far outside the realm of reality. He wouldn’t do that. He . . . loved my family.”
Annette exhaled a heavy breath. “You have to be realistic. I didn’t just make all this up.”
Carson moved his head firmly from side to side. “What you’re alleging is impossible.”
“One thing is relatively certain,” she felt compelled to mention. “Dane is the only person who knows what really happened. If we can get him to talk, you’ll finally have that truth you’ve been searching for and the men who covered it up will have to pay.”
Carson continued staring at her as if his reasoning hadn’t caught up with hers just yet.
The phone on the table next to her rang. It wasn’t until then that she considered the time. Daniel should have been here by now. She could definitely use a healthy shot of caffeine.
“Excuse me,” she said to Carson as she lifted the cordless receiver. “Annette Baxter.”
“Ms. Baxter, we have a situation.”
Building security. Annette rose and crossed the room. “What situation?”
“The authorities are here. They’re requesting access to your penthouse.”
Not exactly surprising. Since she’d learned of Drake’s murder she had fully expected to be questioned. Wainwright would pin it on her if there was any way possible.
“I understand. I’ll be waiting here for their arrival.”
She ended the call and turned to Carson. “The authorities are here requesting to see me. You may want to leave by the back entrance.”
He stood. “Back entrance?”
“There’s a rear elevator in my suite. It goes down to the basement garage. You’re welcome to use my rental.”
“No. I’ll stay.”
That surprised her. She wasn’t foolish enough to misunderstand his motives, but it was somehow comforting to know he would be there. He’d at least heard her out. Even if he didn’t believe her, she had deposited the necessary doubt as to the integrity of his mentor.
A frown tightened her brow. Where was Daniel? He was never late.
Special Agent Kim Schaffer led the parade of cops, including Special Agent Boyd Davis, one of her colleagues, and Lieutenant William Lynch, into the room. Annette gathered her wits and braced for battle. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“Annette Baxter,” Schaffer announced, “We’ll be executing a search warrant of these premises. And you’re to come with me for questioning as a person of interest in the murders of Senator Randolph Drake and Zachary Holderfield.”
Annette squared her shoulders. “Of course. I’m always happy to cooperate.”
Carson stepped forward, shocking Annette again. “Agent Schaffer, I’d like to observe the interview.”
Lynch looked from Schaffer to Carson. “Son, I don’t think that’s a good idea under the circumstances.”
Before Carson could argue, Schaffer held up a hand. “Mr. Tanner will be assisting me as an adviser in this interview.”
Annette had never cared much for the feds, but this was one time she was damned glad they were here.