Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
My father’s eyes narrow on me. “Is there or is there not a serial killer in our city?”
“There is,” I say easily. “And the killer is targeting the families of people like you, Father—rich, wealthy men. I’m sure none of you want to tell those people they’re targets without having answers. They are, after all, the people donating the big bucks to your campaign.” Beside me, Rollins shifts, and I have the distinct impression he wants to laugh. Which would make me laugh. It might be a good time, at least for the two of us. But he doesn’t come through and I move on. “Additionally, you’re already a target because you’re one of those rich, powerful people and in the press all the time. I don’t suggest you make yourself more so.”
“Brushing off threats and managing them is par for the course in law enforcement and public service,” my father replies. “I need to say something to the people, and I will.” He glances at Pocher. “Let’s plan a three o’clock press conference. The governor and the mayor will create a storm. We’ll calm it down.”
The interesting part of this exchange is Pocher’s reply. “We’ll make it happen.” It’s a submissive reply, one that indicates that my father’s future role as governor has given him a place in the Society with standing that Pocher now must respect.
Interesting.
My father’s intense blue eyes land on me. “I’d like you to be at our press conference.”
“Aside from the fact that I have an autopsy to attend and interviews to conduct, I’m not going to do that for all the reasons I gave you last night. Detective Rollins can handle it, but I must tell you, Father, this case is now under federal jurisdiction. You do not have the authority to talk about the details publicly, nor do any of the local officials. Any statement needs to be cleared by us first. That can go through Detective Rollins.”
“Can I talk to you alone, Lilah?” my father asks.
“Special Agent Love-Mendez,” I say. “There are two sides to my coin. You never know which one you might get.”
Pocher and Rollins stand up and head for the door. My father waves for the guard to leave as well. When finally the door shuts, and I’m alone with my father, he says, “This is the Love family legacy. I know how you feel about me, Lilah, but I have never had any intention but doing good in this world. I need you at this press conference. You are still my princess, and you can help me seal this deal. The governorship and then who knows, the sky is the limit.”
Holy fuck, he means president.
My hand twitches. It wants to hit him or reach for my gun. He is not a good person. He cannot be president. He wasn’t even a good father or husband. I don’t what role he had in my mother’s death, but I feel he was intimately involved. I feel it in my bones. He doesn’t even seem to grieve her. Meanwhile I desperately try to hold onto her, but I can’t even mentally picture her face without a photo any longer. The fact that I know this is normal, that it’s part of the healing process, part of numbing the pain, matters zero to me. Every day she slips further away, further from my reach.
But I remind myself, that if I’m in jail, I can’t deliver justice for her death.
“Be you. Say what you just said to me. It will win them over. Just like it always did with Mom.”
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”
“She loved you. That’s what it means. I’m sure she is looking down on us now, too, cheering me on. Don’t you think?”
“Don’t you mean cheering me on?”
“I thought it was me who could help you seal the deal.” I stand up. “I’ll see you at the rally tomorrow night, Father.” I leave the room.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The mayor is late to the meeting.
Detective Rollins and I end up meeting with Governor Mackey, who stands when we enter the NYPD conference room and offers us his hand. He cups mine, holding onto me. “Thank you, Special Agent Love-Mendez, for helping us.” He has kind eyes, but based on his political clout, that’s a lie.
Politicians are snakes in the grass.
The eyes are how he manipulates and seduces his prey.
I am not prey. He’d be mistaken to think otherwise.
Nevertheless, I dislodge my hand from his, a dislike for his long fingers wrapped around mine. His lips quirk as if he’s read my thoughts, and he stares down at me, which is easy to do when I’m five feet four inches and he’s about six four.
We sit and the governor listens quietly to what we have to say and then looks at me. “I think you need to do this press conference.” There is a flicker in his eyes, a sharpness that tells me he absolutely knows who I am. And he wants me at that podium to show I work for the badge, not my father.