Killer Ambition - [68]

“I’m sorry, Mr. Chatham-”

“Do call me Andrew, please. I expect we’ll be in touch quite a lot in the coming weeks and months. No sense standing on ceremony, is there?”

“Andrew, please don’t take this personally, but I have no intention of being in touch. Do have a nice day.”

I ended the call. We hadn’t even made an arrest and it was already starting. But the more shocking part was that the first call had been from a tabloid, not the mainstream press. I’d heard rumors that the major newspapers had taken so many financial hits, they couldn’t compete with the “pay for play” jockeys in the tabloid world. That phone call might be proof that the rumor was true. But more important, this was an early shot across the bow, warning me that if we did arrest Ian Powers, I’d be in for the three-ring circus from hell. I tromped heavily up the stairs to the courthouse as though I were being led to the guillotine. All I could do was hope that the day would pick up from there.

I stopped at the snack bar on the thirteenth floor to get a bagel and coffee. I’d been in a hurry to get to work and hadn’t wanted to wait for room service. Poor, poor me, having to “wait” for room service. I admit that sometimes I even make myself gag. I was on my way to the elevator, bagel in hand, when I bumped into Daniel Rose.

“Hey, Rachel! I’d ask what you’re up to, except I already know.”

“Dan, thank you so much. I can’t tell you what a relief it was to get you as Special Master.”

He looked gorgeous, which was par for the course. In shirtsleeves, with his jacket slung over his shoulder, he looked like an ad for Armani-except more intellectual, with his thick black hair that had just the right amount of gray at the sides and wire-rimmed glasses. And what cologne was he wearing? He smelled great.

“The chance to help out a friend…and the allure of getting the inside scoop on a hot case. It’s a tough combination to resist.”

His eyes were as warm as his smile, and as always, my heart lifted at the sight. But in the next moment I caught myself. I was with Graden now. And although nothing had happened between Daniel and me, it seemed only fair that I should let him know. I began to speak but was cut off by a highly caffeinated and excited Melia, who’d just burst out of the elevator.

“Rachel! I’m so glad I found you. You’ve had a million calls! I’ve got all the messages for you. And Eric needs to see you ASAP. Vanderhorn wants a meeting-”

“Okay, Melia. Calm down. I’m on my way.”

Daniel shook his head sympathetically. “Duty calls. Let me know if you need me…for anything.”

There was no mistaking the double entendre with the look that accompanied that line. I wish I could say it didn’t faze me. The truth was, a jolt of electricity shot all the way from my head to my toes. The ding of an elevator saved me from having to come up with a real answer.

42

“Don’t go there, Rachel,” Eric said. “You’ll never figure out who leaked. The only thing we can do now is push them off with a ‘no comment’ until we have a move to make. In the meantime, Vanderhorn wants you to give him some background on the case-”

“When?”

“This afternoon-around two thirty.”

“Good. I might have answers from Dorian by then, and if they’re the right ones, Bailey’s going to make an arrest.”

“Then it’d probably be better to get you in to see him sooner.” We exchanged a look. Vanderhorn needed more time than most to absorb information. Asking him to catch the facts of a case on the fly was like asking a dog to catch a medicine ball. “Let me find out if he can move something.” Eric told Melia to place the call. One minute later she buzzed him, and he picked up the phone. Eric explained the situation to Vanderhorn’s secretary. Another minute later he said, “Fine,” and hung up.

“He’ll see us in an hour. Stop by here and we’ll go together.” I nodded and stood up. “And try not to look like that when we go.”

“Like what?”

He ignored me. “See you in an hour.”

I did know what I looked like: pissed and annoyed. I think Vanderhorn makes a horse’s ass look smart and I didn’t want to help him look any better for the camera. On the other hand, he was the one who’d have to field most of the questions if we filed the case. If he looked bad, we looked bad. Talk about your paradox.

I forced myself to concentrate on the work I hadn’t been able to finish the day before, but couldn’t stop looking at my phones, waiting for one of them to ring and hoping it would be Dorian. You know the old saying about watching water to see if it boils. So finally, with twenty minutes to go before our meeting with Vanderputz, I gave up and reviewed the reports. I’d need to dumb it all down into sound bites, so I spent the remaining time thinking of simple ways to summarize the case.

At the appointed time Eric and I arrived at the anteroom outside Vanderhorn’s office, where his secretary, Francine Jefferson, sat. She was in her sixties but she didn’t look a day over forty. Smart, no-nonsense, and with a peppery sense of humor. No one understood how she put up with Vanderhorn. My theory was that she’d taken him on because she loved a challenge. Now she looked at me over the top of her reading glasses.