Page 21 of Kiss Me Now
“Did you ever run the story?” I would have to dig through the Spilled Tea archives to see if I could read between the lines.
Brandon nodded. “I did, as a blind item. There wasn’t enough proof to shout it from the rooftops.” He took another sip of his drink and watched me closely. “Why are you interested? You looking for dirt on Rink?”
“No,” I answered. “Just have concerns about something my gran is getting mixed up in.” A conversation with Brandon was always a negotiation. His currency was gossip, and so long as he saw me as a valuable source for it, he’d keep sharing his own for the price of a trade, plus some cash. Since I’d already given him $200, it was time to pay up with gossip of my own.
“I have something you may want to sniff out. An affair, and the worst sort of cliché: it’s the pool boy.”
Brandon smiled. “Spill.”
“I’ll let you figure out the details, but I’d say the Speaker needs to keep an eye on what’s happening in his own house.”
“Wait, house ortheHouse?” Brandon asked.
I shrugged. “Does the House of Representatives have a pool I don’t know about?” I didn’t mind giving up the Speaker one bit. It might be his wife cheating this time, but I had no doubt he wasn’t any more faithful. He was just marginally more discreet.
“That is very good tea,” Brandon said, already pulling out his phone. “Going to send out some feelers unless you want to give up the details now?”
“I do not,” I said, smiling. I’d given him a story that would break one way or the other within the next week. The client who had hired us to spy on the Speaker’s business would make sure of it. The client wanted to bog the Speaker down right when he needed all of his attention on blocking a major bill the president wanted passed.
It was almost enough to make me roll my eyes. If the American people knew how much got done by blackmail rather than statesmanship, it would shred any lingering faith they had in their leaders.
“Well, this has been a surprisingly tasty lunch already and the steak isn’t even here,” Brandon said.
“Good. Now, tell me something I don’t know about capital shenanigans.”
We settled into a comfortable chat with Brandon sharing breezy gossip from the socialite circuit. I didn’t find these kinds of stories interesting, but I always filed them away. I never knew when they would be helpful down the road for a case. It happened often enough for me to never dismiss the power of idle chatter to solve major cases when I least expected it.
Still, the whole time I listened to Brandon, my mind ran down a separate track, planning my next weekend visit to Gran. I needed a gentle way to break it to her that her new friend was one of the most devious liars I’d ever investigated.
I didn’t love the idea of disillusioning Gran, but I did look forward to the expression on Brooke’s face when I exposed her as a con artist. It was the very best part of my day job, but no victory there would ever be more satisfying than rooting Brooke out of Gran’s life.
Chapter Eight
Brooke
Ishielded my eyesagainst the late afternoon sun and sighed.
