Page 39 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part Two
“Love you too, big fella. Now if I were you, I’d take my pretty girlfriend and get out of the country, because if we’re right, and the old man failed, then that hit is still on.”
Cold dread had settled on my chest the moment I saw the car hurtling toward us, and it hadn’t relented yet. With this new information, I wasn’t sure it would ever go away—not until Ted Kenley was in jail or dead.
I said goodbye to Buck, who promised to update me if anything came up with the tech kid. I wasn’t stupid; of course Buck could be bought, but I didn’t think it was for the kind of money that the senator had on hand. Hendrick had gotten the lion’s share of his grandfather’s fortune, even more so than his mother. Senator Kenley’s fortune was limited to his reputation and the little he had to maintain a comfortable life. He wouldn’t throw that all away on a gamble. I didn’t think so, anyway.
I stuffed my phone back in my pocket, eager to be home, but I still had one last stop to make. I walked into a busy police precinct, and several shrewd eyes turned in my direction.
I wasn’t outrageously big or buff; my physique didn’t screamthreat. You’d sit next to me on the subway without fearing for your life, and little old ladies would probably let me escort them across the street. But some cops just knew that I was army-trained, probably the ones who’d gotten out of the military themselves and straight into a blue uniform.
“Can I help you?” the officer behind the desk asked, and I gave her what I assumed was a charming smile. I didn’t use it often, so hopefully it didn’t come off more psychotic than sweet.
“I’m here to see Detective Meskov.”
The officer, who must have been close to retirement, eyeballed me, before picking up the phone. “Detective, I have a Mr…?”
“Tell him it's Evan.”
“An Evan here to see you. Yep.” She looked me up and down. “Yep. Okay. I’ll tell him.” She dropped the phone into the cradle. “He said you interrupted him on the way to lunch, so you can buy him a sub from Joe’s down on the corner. He’s wrapping up a meeting and then he’ll meet you there. Double meat and provolone.”
I shook my head at the older woman behind the counter. “Geez. Some people don’t change. Thank you, officer.”
Let her think we were old friends. In a way, we were once upon a time.
I stuffed my hands in my pockets, heading for Joe’s Deli. I’d ordered two meatball subs with provolone when Detective Josef Meskov appeared beside me.
“It's been ten years, you know. I could have met a dozen other Evans by now.”
I looked over at the man who was exactly what you thought a bodyguard should look like. He was tall, easily six foot four, and he obviously worked out a lot. He had a sharp jawline and ice blue eyes that were disconcerting as hell.
“I figured I was the most memorable.”
Josef snorted, grabbing his sub. “You know, you might have gotten lucky and I would have forgotten you, if Buck hadn’t called yesterday. I figure you’re here for the same information.” He walked over to a small two-seater table in the back, so his shoulders were against the wall and he could see the door. Old habits died hard. “Gonna have to tell you what I told Buck. I can’t tell you jackshit more than you can see on the news.”
That was bullshit, and we both knew it. “It was a hit.”
Josef tilted his head. “By hit, you mean…?”
“An assassination attempt. On my—'' I wanted to say girlfriend, but that would lead to even more questions. “Clients.”
“Do you have proof?”
I eyeballed Josef. “You’re the cop—you tell me.”
He gave me a hard look back. “Look. The old guy is still in hospital, and either he’s got some kind of neurological disorder or he’s a fucking great actor, because he isn’t talking.” He glanced around the deli. “He did have an interesting record though, which included some charges that were dropped in the fifties regarding unsolved mob murders.”
I gritted my teeth. “That didn’t raise any red flags?”
“Seventy-year-old murder charges don’t make a person a suspect. Since then, he’s been the picture of Joe Citizen. Not even a speeding ticket.”
Fuck. I squeezed my hoagie until it was mush.
Josef gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, man. I really am. But the guy is playing dumb—in this case, literally—and from every other direction, it just looks like a terrible accident. Open and shut.”
I gave him a tight nod. “Thanks.”
I slapped him on the back as I left. It wasn’t Josef’s fault, of course. It did look open and shut, and they weren’t going to search for evidence to support a crazy conspiracy theory about a senator trying to kill his son and daughter-in-law.
“Evan!” I turned, and met those ice blue eyes. “I’ll look into it as much as I can, okay?”
