Page 47 of Sharp Force
“It sounds like Rowdy O’Leary was involved in something beyond his control.” I scrape plates into the sink disposal.
“That might explain why he’d gotten increasingly paranoid.” Benton carries in our wine, setting my glass on the counter. “He might have had reason to be. By all indications, someone started paying him off after he was hit by the car.”
“Paying him off for what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ninety K a year is quite a tidy payoff.” I turn on the hot water in the sink, handing Benton a dish towel.
“Someone might have been giving him hush money,” he suggests. “If so, there’s a reason the hit-and-run was never solved. It’s not supposed to be.”
“Maybe it relates to the government somehow? Maybe he was targeted? Deliberately taken out?”
“Wouldn’t make sense.” He begins drying as I wash. “If the government needed him neutralized for some reason, he wouldn’t have been left alive to collect payments.”
“I hope you can get your hands on the records and backup drives in his office safe before someone else does,” I reply. “Seems the Secret Service, the FBI might want to know what’s there. Especially if there could be a nefarious government connection. Or even money laundering or fraud.”
“I’m going to make sure that happens,” Benton says. “Contacting Lucy as we speak.”
Using the secure messaging app on his phone, he sends a text to her while I send one to Fabian about the injured raccoon. Maybe he can swing by when able and help catch the poor thing so we can get it to a wild animal rehab center. He answers right away with emojis of a thumbs-up and a stethoscope.
“Rowdy O’Leary’s safe will be handled,” Benton tells me, and I don’t want to know the details.
“Is she all right?” I ask about Lucy.
“She wishes she were here,” he says.
We leave the kitchen, thunder rumbling, the snow turning to a rainy sleet that smacks against the side of the house.
“She’s with Tron,” Benton says.
Sierra “Tron” Patron is Lucy’s FBI investigative partner. She’s also a friend of the family, and I’m glad they’re together right now.
“It’s a shame they have to be in a dorm on Christmas Eve, but at least they’re together,” I reply as we head back through the house. “What was for dinner?”
He says they had cheeseburgers and beer in the FBI Academy’s Boardroom, and I remember the times Lucy and I were there together. I turn off the Christmas tree lights, ignoring the plastic Santa hailing us.
“… MERRY CHRISTMAS…! HO! HO! HO…!”
Inside the bedroom, the fire I built earlier is a pile of white ashes over coals glowing orange. Small flames jump as I add more fatwood and another log. It’s a few minutes past midnight when Benton and I slip under the covers.
“Merry Christmas, Kay,” he says. “I could give you one of your presents now if you’d like?”
“Depends on what present you’re talking about.” I move closer, feeling him in firelight.
“I think you know.” He begins unbuttoning my pajamas.
CHAPTER 16
The wind moans around the house like a horror movie, remnants of a bad dream deconstructing like clouds as I reach for my phone vibrating on the nightstand. It’s 5:25 a.m., Marino calling, and my mood begins a freefall.
“Please, God, no.” I groan, turning on the bedside lamp.
“Who is it?” Benton mumbles into his pillow, and I tell him. “Dammit.” He sits up as my phone continues buzzing like a giant insect.
“Good morning, Marino,” I answer, touching the icon for speakerphone. “I have a feeling you’re not calling to wish us bon voyage.” I rub my temples, a bit hungover.
“I’m sorry as hell, Doc,” he says, and I can tell he’s outside near an airport, a jet passing low overhead. “I want to make sure you hear from me what’s going on. Then you can decide what you want to do about it.” He’s keyed up and talking fast.
