“What’ll happen when my name is tied to Lexicore?” Nick asked, not wanting to think of the campaign, his reputation or his rising star in the party when so many lives had been lost. But how could he not think about those things two short weeks before the election?
“I wish I knew,” Terry said. “The good news, if there is good news, is that I suspect the tie to the factory in Thailand is going to come as a surprise to most of Lexicore’s investors.”
“First order of business is to unload the stock,” Nick said.
“You’ll take a huge financial hit if you do that,” Christina said. “The value has plummeted since the news broke this morning.”
“Who cares about the money? It’s lost to me either way. I’ve got to unload that stock before the press jumps all over me.”
“It might be too late for that,” Graham O’Connor said as he strode into Nick’s office looking frazzled. “This is all my fault, Nick. I had no idea Lexicore was into factories in Thailand. I failed in my due diligence on your behalf.”
“How much did you invest with Lexicore?” Terry asked his father.
“A million of Nick’s,” Graham said, seeming ashamed, “and a couple million of my own.”
The news hit Nick like a punch to the gut. Half the money John had left him might be gone.
“I’m so sorry, Nick,” Graham said, his voice wavering. “I’ll make it up to you. Somehow.”
“I don’t care about the money.” Nick hated seeing his good friend so upset. “That’s the least of my concerns. My first concern would be why a major U.S. corporation is allowing those kinds of conditions to exist in a factory it owns. My second question—and this is a distant second to the first one—is what’re we looking at politically?”
“It’s hard to say,” Terry said. “The way I see it, we’ve got a couple of options. You could take a mea culpa and get out ahead of the story. Say you had no idea that Lexicore was involved with the factory and say you dumped the stock as soon as you found out about it.”
“What’s my other option?”
“Say nothing. Maybe your name will never come up.”
Nick thought about both options and the potential fallout from each. His nature was to be honest and forthcoming in all his dealings, but if he admitted to the connection to Lexicore it could cost him the election. But if he didn’t admit it and the press caught wind of it, that could cost him the election too. A hell of a dilemma.
“Let me fall on the sword,” Graham said.
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“I’ll issue a statement that you turned your inheritance over to me to manage for you, and you’ve been so busy that you totally trusted me to handle it. You knew nothing.”
“Doesn’t that make me look like sort of a dolt for not paying attention to what became of my money?”
“I could say that you were so upset by how you came to have the money that you didn’t want to know what I did with it.”
“Which is sort of true,” Nick said. Other than a quick glance at the monthly statements, he didn’t have anything to do with the management of the account.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Terry said.
“I don’t like the idea of you fighting my battles for me,” Nick said to Graham.
“I have nothing to lose.”
“Only your sterling reputation,” Nick reminded him.
“Eh,” Graham said with a shrug. “Who cares? I’m not running for anything, and you are.”
“I think Senator O’Connor’s idea is your best bet,” Christina said.
“I’m leaving tomorrow for a quick trip with the president,” Nick said. “If we go with Graham’s plan, let’s wait until I’m gone. If I’m out of the country with the president and unreachable, the story might die before it gets legs under it.”
“Good thinking,” Terry said. “We could say that we aren’t authorized to comment on the senator’s personal affairs.”
“Don’t use the word ‘affair,’” Graham said with a guffaw.
Nick laughed. “Yes, please think of a different word so you don’t get me in trouble with my wife.”
“Duly noted,” Terry said with the first hint of a smile since the tense conversation began.
“You really think this’ll work?” Nick asked Graham.
“I can’t think of a better idea.”
“Neither can I. All right, I’ll let you fall on the sword with my thanks.”
“Aw hell, I got you into this situation. I’ll get you out of it.”
Nick glanced at his watch. Ten minutes until he was due to the meeting.
“Could I have a moment alone, Senator?” Graham asked.
“Of course.” To Terry and Christina, Nick said, “Thanks, guys. Appreciate your input.”
After they left the room, Nick came around the desk to sit in the other visitor chair next to Graham. “What’s up?”
“I got a call from Thomas’s lawyer yesterday,” he said, referring to his grandson who was now in jail for killing his father, Senator John O’Connor.
“What’d he have to say?”
“Thomas wants to see me.”
“Oh. Wow. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine what he has to say to me. He blames me for everything. If I hadn’t forced his father to keep Thomas and his mother a secret none of this would’ve happened. Hell, I blame myself. Keeping them apart was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Graham. Those were different times. You did what you thought was right at the time.”
He glanced over at Nick, and for the first time, he looked like an old man. “I knew at the time that it wasn’t right to keep John from his child. I knew it, and I did it anyway because I was afraid—for myself and for him. I loved this job. I loved everything about it. I went too far to protect my career at the expense of the people I loved. John paid for my mistakes with his life.”
Nick leaned in to rest his hand on the other man’s forearm, “John paid for his own mistakes, not yours. Thomas was angry about his father cheating on his mother. That’s why he killed him.”
“But if I hadn’t forced John to live apart from Patricia, maybe they would’ve had a more normal life, and he wouldn’t have felt the need to cheat on her.”
“I don’t think—” Nick stopped himself, mindful of his respect for Graham and his desire to protect John’s legacy—always.
“What? Just say it. Whatever it is.”
Choosing his words carefully, Nick said, “I don’t think John had it in him to be monogamous with any woman, even Patricia.”
“Maybe so. I never understood how he became such a skirt-chaser. He wasn’t raised that way.”
“To me it always seemed like he was looking for something he just couldn’t find no matter how hard he searched.”
“He never found what you have with Sam or what I have with his mother. It makes me sad to think that he missed out on that.”
“He led a very full life, and he wouldn’t want you to be sad when you think of him.”
“I know. Still... When I think about how I threatened to disown him if he had anything to do with them, it makes me sick. As if I ever could’ve actually disowned him.”
Nothing he could say would make Graham feel better about what was now ancient history. “What’ll you do about Thomas?”
“Go see him, I suppose. He is my grandson after all.”
“Want me to go with you?”
Graham visibly brightened. “You’d do that?”
“Of course I would.”
“After the election,” Graham said. “Let’s get you safely reelected, and then we’ll see what he wants.”
“Sounds like a plan. I hate to say it, but the caucus is meeting at nine. I need to get going.”
Graham stood. “Can’t keep your colleagues waiting.” He rested a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I’ll get you out of this Lexicore mess and get your money back.”
“Don’t sweat the money. Being a millionaire wasn’t as much fun as it would’ve been with John around to help me spend the dough.”
Graham smiled. “I’ll be having a conversation with my broker about this entire situation. I’ll make sure the rest of your money is safe and sound, but I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to cut me out of the loop.”
“That’s not happening, so don’t even talk about it.”
“Where’re you going with the president?”
“Can’t tell ya,” Nick said with a smile.
“Ahh, well, I can use my imagination to figure out your most likely destination, so I’ll just say be safe, Godspeed and God bless.”
“Thank you.” Nick hugged him. “Take care and give my love to Laine.”
“Will do.”
* * *
Sam allowed Hill to do the driving because she wanted time to think over everything they’d discussed in their meeting. On the way to the stadium, they listened to Big Ben Markinson on WFBR as he worked his listeners into a frenzy speculating about what might’ve happened to Willie Vasquez.
“I’m sorry,” one caller said, “but the bastard had it coming to him. He totally screwed us out of a trip to the World Series.”
“And you think he deserved to die for that?” Big Ben asked.
“Let’s put it this way—no one will mourn his passing.”
“Not even his wife or his two little kids or his parents?”
“You know what I mean, Ben. Why are you getting all sentimental? You were as mad as anyone yesterday.”
“That was before I knew someone killed the poor guy. I know we’re all bummed about the game, but Willie is dead. I mean... I’m sorry, but I don’t think he deserved to die for not catching a baseball.”
“You’ve gone soft, man.”
“Your opinion. Get me someone else, Marcy.”
The next caller wasn’t much more forgiving, but did express a bit of empathy toward Willie’s wife and kids.
“People are seriously fucked up,” Sam said.
“Seriously.”
When they arrived at the stadium, the same receptionist from the day before sent them right up to the executive offices in the elevator that had no buttons.
“How does it know where to go?” Sam asked, studying the panel of red lights that meant something to someone. They meant nothing to her.
“I think it’s only got one destination.”
“Let me do the talking in there.”
“Of course, Lieutenant. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Sam, but she refrained from commenting. She missed Freddie and his sucking up. Tomorrow they’d get back to normal.
The elevator doors opened. Ray’s assistant, Aaron, was waiting for them. “Right this way.”
“What’s with the VIP treatment?” Sam asked.
“Ray asked us to fully cooperate with your investigation,” Aaron said. “That’s what we’re doing.”
“It’s very refreshing,” Sam said. “We don’t get a lot of cooperation in our line of work.”
Aaron knocked once and entered Ray’s office. He was seated at his conference table with Bob Minor. Sam was glad to see them both there, as she had questions for Minor too.
“Do you have news?” Ray asked, looking to his friend Hill. Ray had aged overnight and looked like he still hadn’t slept at all.
“No, but we have more questions,” Sam said.
“I have a question too—why did you arrest my general manager?”
“He wasn’t arrested. He was brought in for questioning.”
“Why?”
“There were some irregularities in his financial records that we needed to have explained.”
“What kind of irregularities?”
“The all-but-broke kind.”
“How is that possible?” Ray asked, incredulous. “He makes several million dollars a year.”
“That answers one of my questions.”
“When I went to speak with him yesterday,” Hill said, “I found his home all smashed up. He’d taken a baseball bat to anything that could be smashed. Why would he do that?”
“Other than losing the biggest game of his career due to an error by one of his highest-paid players?” Minor asked, his tone thick with sarcasm.
“Is it possible Collins wagered on the game?” Sam asked.
The two men exchanged glances. “I wouldn’t have any information about that,” Ray said.
“Me either,” Minor said. “If he bet on the game, he was risking his job and his career. That’s one quick way to get banned from the game for life.”
Sam knew there was more to the Collins story, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere on that here. “Let’s talk about Jamie Clark and her relationship with Willie.”
“What about it?” Ray asked, taken aback by the question.
“We’re told it was somewhat common knowledge around here that there was more to it than just a trainer-player relationship.”
Ray’s face slackened with shock. “Told by whom?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Hill said. “Was it common knowledge to you?”
“Not to me,” Ray said.
All eyes fell on Minor who squirmed and then wilted under the intense glare of the team owner.
“Did you know about this, Bob?” Ray asked.
“I suspected there was something going on,” Bob said haltingly. “They spent an awful lot of time together.”
Ray’s face got very red. “
And you never said anything?
”
“I didn’t think it was any of my business.”
“None of your business,” Ray said, astounded. “Like we’d need that kind of scandal with one of our marquee players, who is known for being a devoted family man?”
“It was because of his family that I kept my mouth shut,” Bob said. “People like Carmen. No one wanted to see her hurt by her husband’s stupidity.”
“Is Ms. Clark here today?” Sam asked.
“No,” Bob said. “She took a personal day.”
“We’ll need her address.”
“What for?” Bob asked.
“What do you think?” Sam asked, beginning to be annoyed by him.
“She had nothing to do with this,” Bob said.
“And you know this how?”
“I know her! She’s not a killer!”
“If that’s the case, then she has nothing to worry about. But you’ll pardon me if your assertions aren’t enough to keep us from looking more closely at her and her relationship with Willie.” To Ray, Sam said, “Can you please get me her home address?”
“Yes, of course,” Ray said, reaching for his phone.
“Get Rick Lind’s while you’re at it,” Avery said.
“What the hell do you want with him?” Bob asked.
“We’d like to talk to him about the meltdown he had in the locker room after the game, for one thing,” Sam said. “You know, the meltdown you failed to mention to us yesterday?”
Bob’s ruddy complexion darkened with rage. “He was rightfully pissed off! The loss gets pinned on him along with the blown save. But that doesn’t mean he killed Willie.”