“Why Isleton?” Steve asked. “There’re maybe a thousand people living there. A bar, a restaurant, not much else.”
“The way his Explorer was facing, he was heading from Isleton when he went under. On his way from meeting someone possibly? If so, we just need to figure out who.”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Steve shook his head as he gave the place one more glance. “There’s nothing here.”
“Do we have his phone records yet?”
“Yeah, I have them in the car.”
“Let’s find out the last person he spoke with,” Mitch said. “Looks like the only evidence we have is Oliver’s stomach contents.”
“If we can get anything off the flash drive.”
“Think of this, Steve,” Mitch said. “Why would he swallow something like a flash drive unless he was desperate and thought that was the only way to save valuable information?”
“Maybe he was hungry,” Steve said lightly.
“Hungry for the truth.”
Jeffrey had known Hamilton since they met rushing the same fraternity. And for all those years, Hamilton had held over his head all the times he’d saved his ass. Whiny Richie jumped on that same bandwagon, pointing to all the money he made them and laundered to fund Jeffrey’s political campaigns.
Now, Jeffrey was in the position of saving the day, and he would make sure his longtime friends knew it.
“It’s all coming undone,” Hamilton said over the phone. “I had a flag on the O’Brien file at archives. And guess who just pulled them? Claire O’Brien!”
“I told you we should have taken care of her a long time ago.”
“If O’Brien was dead, this wouldn’t even be an issue,” Hamilton snapped.
“That was your job. You’re the one who’s tight with all the lawyers and judges and prison wardens.”
While listening to Hamilton rant, Jeffrey watched the pretty young campaign intern finger-fuck herself like he had commanded. They were in his hotel room between appointments with big money donors. Jeffrey was furious that Hamilton had called during the short time he had to play, even though he reluctantly admitted that the situation in Sacramento was getting out of control. The fact that someone had found Oliver Maddox’s body was unfortunate. But there was still nothing to tie Maddox back to them. They just needed to keep their cool.
“-and then there’s Harper,” Hamilton was saying. “Jeffrey, are you listening?”
“Of course.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes,” he lied smoothly. He watched Julie turn herself on. He was fully clothed, of course. He didn’t have time to go through the motions of foreplay and seduction. He didn’t care if Julie or whoever he decided to favor that day got off or not. Jeffrey would be the first to admit that it was all about him and his pleasure, and if the woman didn’t like it, he had plenty to choose from.
Hamilton warned him repeatedly about a potential sexual harassment scandal, but Jeffrey was careful. He paid his staff well and he paid extra well for favors like the one Julie was doing for him now. She looked at him and he motioned for her to keep going. He was getting hard, but Hamilton was worse than a cold shower.
“Jeffrey, what if the O’Brien girl makes the same connection between Taverton and Lowe?”
“She won’t,” Jeffrey said. “And don’t use names. You should know better. We have it under control. Don’t panic. As long as we keep our cool, we’re fine. Got it? I have to go, I have another major donor meeting and I don’t want to be late.”
He hung up before Hamilton could protest.
“Spread your legs more,” he told Julie.
“Like this?” She bent her knees so they were flush against the couch, spreading her wet pink lips. He loved young, limber girls. Julie was twenty. Hardly jailbait. He was extra careful about that.
Jeffrey was also single, so adultery was not even in the picture. He had several high-profile “girlfriends” for the paparazzi, and it was well-known he was a bit of a playboy. But he used his easy charm and powerful charisma to parlay that into somewhat of a following. Women came to him for sex. He never had to go looking for it.
“Good.” His cock twitched. “When was the first time you fucked yourself?”
“I don’t remember.” She was growing a little flushed, but he sensed she was still nervous about being caught. That was part of the thrill.
“Take your fingers and push them in.”
“I’d rather have you do it.”
“I’m sure you would.” He took his cock out of his pants. He was semi-hard. “Like it?”
“You know I do.”
“Maybe I’ll let you suck it later. Go deeper.”
She inserted two fingers and pushed them deep inside her. What he really wanted was to watch Julie and another woman go at it, then take them each in turn. He liked having power over many women, having lots of choices.
But he had to be careful about that. The last time he’d gone too far into his fantasy he almost lost everything. Hamilton had to fix it. Jeffrey didn’t like having to call Hamilton in to fix anything because he held it over him forever.
He watched Julie and thought about a different blonde.
Another problem Hamilton had to fix.
Jeffrey had picked up the hitchhiker on Highway 80 on the California-Nevada border. He was on his way back from Reno where he’d lost fifty thousand and change. He was angry, at the casinos and the cheating blackjack dealers.
Fifty thousand. From the campaign. Fuck. He’d have to talk to Richie about how to replace it without anyone knowing. Richie was good at that kind of stuff.
He pulled over because she flashed a little leg. He needed a diversion. He rolled down the passenger window and she ran over. He didn’t unlock the door yet. “Hey,” she said.
“What’s your name?”
“Niki.”
“Where’re you going?”
“San Francisco.”
“I’ll take you as far as Sacramento.”
“Great.”
“What’ll you give me?”
She rolled her eyes, then smiled. “How about a blow job?”
“Deal.”
He drove forty minutes. They were still east of Auburn. “Let’s pull over here.”
“I’ll do it while you drive.”
“I don’t want to crash the car.”
“Oh, you really get into it.”
Yes, he did. And he knew what he really wanted from this cheap whore who offered him a blow job for a ride. Girls like Niki would do anything.
He turned off the highway, then made a couple turns and parked off the road among the redwood trees. Perfect. He unzipped his pants and his semi-hard dick popped out.
He looked at her. “It’s all yours.”
“I don’t think so.”
She had a gun in her hand. It was pointed at his lap. “You guys are all the same. You’ll do anything to have your cock sucked. Get out. You can hitch your way home. Maybe offer to eat out some lonely housewife.” She laughed.
No one, no girl, talked to him like that. No woman pulled a gun on him.