Page 69 of Prince of Control
“Senator Tracy.” I can’t decide whether I should stick out my hand to shake or not. I decide not to because he doesn’t look like he’s in the hand-shaking mood. “This is my wife, Lara Baranov, and my housemate, Leo Popov.”
Black Shirt watches me with an assessing look. I don’t imagine he misses much.
“Why are you here?” Senator Tracy looks as tired as I feel. No one slept last night.
“To support Melinda.” I peer past him into the room, but the bed is empty.
“She’s resting.” The senator gives us all a hard look. I realize the secret service members flank the door next to this one. That must be the one she’s in.
I gaze back without flinching. I need him to know I’m not guilty, and I have nothing to hide. At least not about this case. I have a lot to hide in other areas.
“Step inside this room.” Senator Tracy tips his head toward the empty room beyond him, and we file in. Black Shirt follows and shuts the door behind us.
The senator shifts his glower to Anders. “Am I to understand you’re…dating my daughter?”
Anders shifts on his feet. “I’m not sure she would define it that way, but honestly, Senator, I’d give my left nut to have that be true.”
Gabe Tracy’s eyebrows pop.
Anders has a way of disarming people, and it seems his graphic confession worked because Melinda’s dad’s shoulders sag, and he scrubs a hand across his face.
“I just want you to know, Senator, that we’re going to find whoever did this to Melinda and make them pay,” I offer.
“He means bring them to justice,” Lara corrects me again, squeezing my hand.
I crack my neck. The perpetrator will experience my violence. Then I will bring them to justice.
“Do you know who did this?” Senator Tracy asks.
“I have ideas. And I have resources. We’ll find them.”
Black Shirt watches me steadily. I expect him to say something like, “Leave the detective work to me,” but he says nothing, so I plow forward.
“Who brought her to the hospital? Her roommate?”
“Campus security.” Black Shirt throws us an unexpected bone.
Leo and I exchange a glance. The security guard. It had to be him.
“The same guy who picked her up intact from Baranov House?” Leo asks.
Neither man answers.
“We’ll start there,” I say.
“You want to tell me your ideas?” the senator asks.
I hesitate. I don’t want to make accusations without proof, but guilt over what happened to Melinda eats at me. It happened because of me. Like Valentina, Melinda was an innocent caught in bratva crossfire. I scrub a hand across my face.
“Senator…it’s possible this was an elaborate set-up to get our house shut down. Choosing a high-profile target like your daughter ensured heads would roll. Not to mention, it brought an avalanche of pressure and negative press to the University. Do you happen to know who called the New York Times?”
“We’re looking into it,” Senator Tracy says. He frowns at me. “So your theory is this was all about you and your house?” Derision laces his voice. Like I’m some narcissist making his daughter’s tragedy about me.
I abandon sharing my thoughts and shake my head. “You’re right. I’m probably just being paranoid.”
“No, talk me through your theory,” Black Shirt demands. His back is against the wall, hands caged loosely at his lap. Whoever he is, it’s not some ordinary secret service. He’s definitely some kind of special ops guy who has the complete trust of the senator.
I draw in a breath. “My hope is that no one assaulted Melinda–just drugged her. People knew she frequented our house, and it may have been rumored that she and I had a physical relationship in the past. Drugging her during or just after our party would guarantee a shitstorm for me. The fact that it was Anders she hooked up with isn’t any better. If Melinda doesn’t remember what they did together at the party before she was drugged, Anders is in a world of trouble, and our house will probably be shut down–at least from having parties if not closed altogether.”
