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Authors: Alex Kava

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Thrillers

Whitewash (68 page)

BOOK: Whitewash
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113

Airport Marriott Tallahassee, Florida

Eric didn’t like the idea of them meeting in a suite at the airport Marriott, but the Mayor hadn’t let them down yet. Howard had to return the cabin cruiser. Eric had hoped Sabrina would go with him, but she insisted on coming along to the Marriott. There wasn’t much of an argument. It was her neck that was still at risk.

Russ carried a leather briefcase that included his laptop and copies of all the processing files. The satellite images and Polaroids Eric had found at EchoEnergy in Sidel’s desk drawer were also in the case.

“You think we have enough?” Russ asked the Mayor as the four of them stepped off the elevator.

“This guy’s a straight shooter. He’ll tell us if it’s enough. I’m hoping the combination of stuff will be the proverbial last nail in the coffin.”

“As long as he doesn’t nail us for how we got the information,” Russ said.

Eric didn’t blame him. He felt a bit uneasy about this deal, too.

The Mayor found the suite and knocked while the others stayed back a few paces.

When the door opened, Eric couldn’t believe he didn’t see this coming. He knew the man though they would both pretend otherwise. So when the Mayor introduced Colin Jernigan, Eric greeted him as if it were their first introduction.

They spent less than twenty minutes presenting their information. Jernigan nodded a lot and when they finished he rewarded them with, “This is quite a collection.”

“But can you use it?” the Mayor wanted to know.

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“They’ll have to stop processing the hurricane debris, right?” the Mayor asked.

“I would think so.” But Eric didn’t think Jernigan sounded convincing.

“What’s the punishment these days for contaminating Florida’s waterways?” Russ asked.

“Punishment? Probably a fine. I’m not sure.”

“A fine?” Sabrina sat on the edge of her seat. Eric could feel her frustration. “Are you telling me they hired someone to kill me, then they framed me for murder and all to avoid a fine?”

“There is no proof here that they tried to kill you,” Jernigan said. “I’ll talk to the State Patrol,” he added as if that were her only concern. “I can probably get the charges dropped for your cooperation in this investigation. But I have to be honest with you—” and he waved a hand over the documents and computer files on the coffee table “—none of what you have here will probably add up to a felony charge.”

“What about the Polaroids?” Eric wanted to know.

“Those will definitely finish off Senator Allen’s career.”

“And Sidel?” Sabrina asked.

“Unless any of those young men are under eighteen, there’s no crime for him to have pornography in his private office.”

The Mayor and Russ sat quietly. Eric glanced at Sabrina and saw her studying Jernigan. She wasn’t impressed or satisfied. Neither was Eric. But he wasn’t sure what else they could do.

“I don’t mean to sound so negative,” Jernigan told them. “Altogether the information is compelling—”

“I just remembered where I’ve seen your name,” Sabrina interrupted.

Everyone looked at Jernigan. Eric thought she had to be mistaken. The Colin Jernigan he knew didn’t have his name up and out in public much. In fact, it was usually one of those names whispered around Washington. Eric had never been sure who Jernigan exactly worked for in the Justice Department. Nobody seemed to know except that it was someone high in the administration and anything he was involved with was top secret.

Sabrina pulled out the small purple notebook that Eric knew belonged to Dr. Lansik and she flipped through the pages. She found what she wanted and slid the notebook across the coffee table to Jernigan.

“Dr. Lansik had your name and phone number written down,” she said, tapping the notebook. “You’ve known about this.”

Eric stared at Jernigan and he could see the truth, though Jernigan was good. He didn’t shift or jerk in the least. Only his eyes moved, looking up at Sabrina the way someone looks up over reading glasses to be able to see in the distance more clearly.

“Dr. Lansik had been in touch with me, yes.”

“So you knew what was happening?”

Eric could hear her anger just on the fringes. She was talking to Jernigan like he’d heard her talk to an errant student.

“We didn’t know exactly what was happening. Dr. Lansik backed out. He never showed up.” Jernigan sighed and sat back as if it was something he had no control over. Eric knew better. He knew there probably wasn’t anything Jernigan didn’t have some control over.

“And you never thought to follow up,” Sabrina said, her voice bordering on sarcasm. “You didn’t bother to see why he didn’t show up.”

Jernigan glanced at his watch, exaggerating the gesture. He was finished here and wanted them to know he was finished. “No. Some people simply change their minds.”

Sabrina stood and walked over to Russ’s briefcase. She unzipped a side pocket and took something out. “Dr. Lansik had his mind changed for him,” she said as she placed the plastic bag down on the coffee table in front of Jernigan. “This is all that’s left of him.” Then she headed for the door.

Russ grabbed his briefcase and followed her out. The Mayor stood waiting for Jernigan to do the same. The old man shook his hand and, without a word, he left, too.

That left Eric alone with Colin Jernigan. He fingered the plastic bag, then left it on the table.

“She’s quite a spitfire,” he told Eric.

“What’d you expect? She’s my sister.”

“I didn’t realize you were working on this EchoEnergy thing.”

“I wasn’t,” Eric said. “I’m with Sabrina. I didn’t know there was an EchoEnergy thing. I just stumbled into this because of her. So what will happen to Sidel?”

“I’m not sure.” Jernigan looked at his watch again. “Unfortunately, he’ll still be hosting the opening bash for the energy summit this evening. There’s no one to confront him. All the attention for scandal and smear is on Senator Allen right now.”

Eric shook his head. He couldn’t help thinking Sidel had tried to have Sabrina killed and yet he still got to celebrate with the president. It wasn’t right.

“So, who’d you end up with?” Jernigan asked Eric.

“Excuse me?”

“Who did you decide to work with?”

“DEA.”

Jernigan nodded his approval. “So you’re here in Tallahassee?”

“Pensacola Beach.”

“Drug runners?”

“Ex-dealer,” Eric said. “We’ve never been able to connect him to anything that would stick. The money was never found.” And that’s what Eric’s report would say. Howard had gone straight. He deserved to be left alone.

“Well, I have a reception I need to prepare for.”

There was a knock on the door. Jernigan glanced at Eric and Eric only shrugged.

It was Sabrina. A cooler, calmer Sabrina.

“I’m sorry I left like that,” she said, but she was looking at Eric, not Jernigan. “There has to be something more we can do.”

Jernigan looked to Eric as if waiting for an answer.

“Maybe there is,” Eric said, getting an idea. “But first there’s something I’ve got to tell you, Bree.”

114

Energy Summit
The Reid Estate

William Sidel straightened his bow tie in the mirrored glass between him and the limo driver. The tuxedo was a little tighter since the last time he’d worn it, but he still looked good. And he felt good, better than ever. Actually, he felt as though he’d dodged a bullet. He figured it was only a matter of time before John’s lifestyle caught up with him, but Christ! Why the hell did it have to be this week?

Now the Appropriations Committee would put off voting on the military contract until next week. Or, at least, that’s what he heard. He suspected something else was up and he feared the opposing factions may have already gotten their way. Without John he wouldn’t be privy to the deals that were made in the bars and cafés and even hotel rooms instead of on the floor of Congress.

He decided tonight he wouldn’t worry about it. He owned tonight, had bought it fair and square. And no one could mess that up.

114

Energy Summit
The Reid Estate

William Sidel straightened his bow tie in the mirrored glass between him and the limo driver. The tuxedo was a little tighter since the last time he’d worn it, but he still looked good. And he felt good, better than ever. Actually, he felt as though he’d dodged a bullet. He figured it was only a matter of time before John’s lifestyle caught up with him, but Christ! Why the hell did it have to be this week?

Now the Appropriations Committee would put off voting on the military contract until next week. Or, at least, that’s what he heard. He suspected something else was up and he feared the opposing factions may have already gotten their way. Without John he wouldn’t be privy to the deals that were made in the bars and cafés and even hotel rooms instead of on the floor of Congress.

He decided tonight he wouldn’t worry about it. He owned tonight, had bought it fair and square. And no one could mess that up.

115

Abda couldn’t believe how smoothly the preparations had gone. His polite manner and meticulous eye for detail had earned him a head-table assignment just as he had hoped and anticipated.

He had seen Khaled shortly after he arrived. His friend looked exhausted, but there was something else in his eyes. Impatience? Anticipation? Abda knew Khaled looked forward to being in this banquet room. He was anxious to witness the exact moment when the President of the United States brought his hands to his throat, gasping for air and ripping at his own flesh in the hopes of relieving the suffocating feeling.

Unlike Khaled, Abda felt no eagerness. But there was, also, no hesitation, no regret in Abda that it had come down to this. He was prepared to do what was necessary though he looked for every sign that compromise may have been reached. He had heard that a decision had been made, though publicly it appeared to be a quagmire. He understood and accepted that whatever the decision was, it may require death to preserve his country’s interests and reinforce their nation’s status and influence in the global economy. They could not be taken for granted year after year by president after president only to be swept aside for some temporary political maneuver.

Some might call their tactics extreme and dare to compare them to other radical factions. Others might say it’s only about greed and oil. All of them would be wrong to be so shortsighted.

Abda stood over the tray with appetizer plates waiting for him to serve as soon as the guests were seated and ready. The powder he was to add would blend in with the Parmesan cheese and never be noticed. He watched with disinterest as the rich man who owned the estate introduced the head table.

The president had not arrived yet. He would make a grand entrance, no doubt. And when he did, Abda would be ready.

115

Abda couldn’t believe how smoothly the preparations had gone. His polite manner and meticulous eye for detail had earned him a head-table assignment just as he had hoped and anticipated.

He had seen Khaled shortly after he arrived. His friend looked exhausted, but there was something else in his eyes. Impatience? Anticipation? Abda knew Khaled looked forward to being in this banquet room. He was anxious to witness the exact moment when the President of the United States brought his hands to his throat, gasping for air and ripping at his own flesh in the hopes of relieving the suffocating feeling.

Unlike Khaled, Abda felt no eagerness. But there was, also, no hesitation, no regret in Abda that it had come down to this. He was prepared to do what was necessary though he looked for every sign that compromise may have been reached. He had heard that a decision had been made, though publicly it appeared to be a quagmire. He understood and accepted that whatever the decision was, it may require death to preserve his country’s interests and reinforce their nation’s status and influence in the global economy. They could not be taken for granted year after year by president after president only to be swept aside for some temporary political maneuver.

Some might call their tactics extreme and dare to compare them to other radical factions. Others might say it’s only about greed and oil. All of them would be wrong to be so shortsighted.

Abda stood over the tray with appetizer plates waiting for him to serve as soon as the guests were seated and ready. The powder he was to add would blend in with the Parmesan cheese and never be noticed. He watched with disinterest as the rich man who owned the estate introduced the head table.

The president had not arrived yet. He would make a grand entrance, no doubt. And when he did, Abda would be ready.

116

Natalie Richards nodded and gave a slight wave to Senator Shirley Malone as she entered the room. The woman did look like a class act, tall and stately in black silk with silver sequins. Didn’t hurt to have that handsome young man on her arm though she wasn’t sure she agreed with the Indiana senator’s timing.

Actually, Natalie was relieved to see that the fallout, the crashing and burning of Senator Allen, wouldn’t include any of his staff. That he would even try blaming Jason Brill was something she had not anticipated, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. It was called survival in Washington. Or collateral damage, as her boss had called Zach Kensor. She wasn’t anxious to see another casualty. Didn’t matter if she did think Brill was a major pain in the ass.

She continued to watch the door after a glance at her watch. Where in the world was Colin Jernigan? The president was due to arrive any minute, and here Natalie sat surrounded by three empty chairs.

BOOK: Whitewash
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