Katherine bit the side of her mouth to stop the crying. How could she have been such a fool? Twice. Be an adult, just end it. She bit harder, fighting the pain and humiliation that threatened to overcome her.
After dressing. Jack walked into the living room. Katherine huddled on the couch, and clutched a cup of coffee, her hands began to shake, so she set her cup down.
“Kate. I, I… love you.”
She held up her hand. “Don’t even…”
“I would never use you. Please. You’ve got to believe me.” He sat down next to her and grasped her shoulders, trying to turn her toward him, but she jerked free, surged to her feet, and stepped back.
She met his gaze, her own angry and accusing. “Then why didn’t you tell me right away what you were here for? Why did you wait until after we’d slept together?” Her lashes glistened with tears.
“It just happened that way.” He stood and approached her, his voice and eyes pleading. “It wasn’t intentional. Please, believe me. I’m not lying to you.” He caressed her cheek. “I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of your reaction – this reaction.”
She ducked away from his touch. “I don’t buy your excuses, Jack. There were plenty of opportunities to tell me before we made love. What was the plan? Wine me, dine me, a little romance, and then I’d happily succumb to your charms. Maybe even become your inside source?”
“No! Katherine, please…”
“Just go. Please.” She stared at the floor. “I’m not interested in a replay of our sordid past.”
Jack tried to hand his hotel telephone number to her, but she refused to accept it. When she turned away, he placed it on the table next to her and left.
FIFTY-SIX
Jack got into his rented Ford Taurus, and pounded the steeling wheel with his fists.
“Boy, did you blow that one, Rudly.”
Jack shook his head and started the car. He drove in circles for forty-five minutes. When he passed the same convenience store for the fourth time, he stopped to get his bearings.
“Damn it, Rudly, time to get with the program. You can’t fix it with Katherine right now. So, move on.” He needed a plan of action, he thought. He could no longer put off the inevitable. He’d come to Missouri for a reason. As painful as it was, he needed to focus on his father’s death.
Mort Fields had died before he’d ever gotten to interview him, but maybe his staff would have some information on his partnership with Carolyn. It was worth a try, Jack decided as he pulled away from the curb.
Thirty minutes later, Jack parked in front of the Fields. Inc, office and got out of the car. With Mort no longer at the helm, a board of directors kept the company running. Jack walked into the elaborately decorated reception area that appeared to be deserted except for the multitude of fish that occupied a full-wall aquarium.
“Hello.” Jack called.
“Be right with you,” said a voice from the back. Finally, a stout woman, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, appeared. She held out her hand as she approached Jack. “Please excuse the mess, but we’re in the process of moving the offices. I’m Rachelle Watkins.”
Jack shook her hand. “Jack Rudly, we’ve met before.”
She smiled at him. “Yes, we have. And I should be angry at you.”
Jack feigned ignorance. “Why? What did I do?”
“Does Sergeant Leonard Rand of the Jefferson City Fire Department ring any bells?”
Jack took a deep breath. This was just his luck. Of course he’d have to run into Mort’s personal assistant, whom he’d tricked by using a false fire claim in order to get Field’s phone number in New York. “I’m sorry, but it was urgent that I speak to Mr. Fields, and you were doing such a good job of screening my calls… anyway, do you forgive me?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think it matters much now.”
He looked around. “Place looks empty.”
“Well, since Mort’s death the company has slowed to a crawl. It’s just not the same without him, even though the board is doing their best. Mort was an incredible force and really kept things hopping. We’re consolidating office space with another business.”
“If you have a minute to talk, I’d really appreciate it. I never did get to speak to Mort.”
“Sure. I don’t know how much I can help, but I’m willing to try,” Rachelle said.
“I understand that Mort and Carolyn Lane were in business together.”
Rachelle looked at him, her smile fading. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“I’m not into wasting anyone’s time,” Jack replied.
“Well, there are certain things I wasn’t privy to. Mr. Fields was a very private man, and certain aspects of the business were handled exclusively by him. What I can tell you is that we did receive a lot of phone calls from Mrs. Lane, but that could have been legal business. I believe he consulted her on several legal issues.”
“But she was a county prosecutor, not a corporate lawyer. Doesn’t seem logical, does it?” Jack asked.
Rachelle shook her head and said. “I have no idea. I wasn’t a party to those calls. The only thing I know is that it became apparent that a strain in the relationship had developed when Mark Dailey started calling on her behalf.”
“When did this happen?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. I think it was about the time Edmund Lane and Mort began spending a lot of time together. It coincided with a shake-up in the partnership. Mort was in a terrible mood for weeks. I would have been happy to look up the paperwork for you and tell you exact dates, but unfortunately I don’t have it anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Jack’s heart skipped a beat.
“Well, the night Mort died, we also had a break-in. Oddest thing, they didn’t take anything of value like paintings or state of the art business machines. Instead, they helped themselves to records, a bunch of files, and all of our computer disks that backed up the paper trail. Most of it pertained to the computer company.”
“Did you tell the police?” Jack knew he looked shocked, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Oh, sure. The minute I got to the office and saw that someone had broken in, I called them. It was before we knew about Mr. Fields. What a day.” Her serious expression accentuated the lines around her eyes. “It was really amazing that the thieves got around Mr. Fields’s security system. He was always a bit paranoid about security and had had an elaborate system installed. But whoever broke in marched right past it and never set off a single alarm. Boy, would that piss off Mort if he was still alive.”
“What did the police say?” Jack asked.
“Well, they did quite a bit of investigating after they found Mr. Fields’s body, but they determined the two events weren’t linked since Mort’s death was obviously an accident. The person most upset over the whole thing seemed to be Mark Dailey.”
Jack frowned in confusion. “Mark Dailey?”
“Yeah, he came to do some investigating right after Mort was found. He blew a gasket when he learned that files were missing. I never did understand why he wanted them. I guess it was just part of his job as a district attorney.”
“Yeah,” Jack responded absently, “I guess so.”
Jack half-listened to Rachelle go on about how Mort loved his Porsche, and what a shame his death was, but his mind was occupied elsewhere. He finally excused himself and left. He wanted to know who had taken those files? Why they were so important? And why had Mark Dailey wanted them?
FIFTY-SEVEN
Jack sat in his room and reread his notes. All of his documentation rotated around Carolyn Lane. Mark Dailey, however, was a new piece to the puzzle. Dailey had worked with Carolyn Lane in the county prosecutor’s office for years and was now part of the White House staff.