Andrea Kane - The Line Between Here and Now

But you’d love for us to think it did with Paul. And to distance yourself from him as much as possible. Well, aren’t you the ultimate Good Samaritan?

Time to catch Fenton off guard.

“What about John Morano?” Casey asked.

A startled expression. “What about him?”

“Are your dealings with him different? We know he’s picked up the reins where Everett left off. Will you be working with him?”

Fenton clearly felt he was in the hot seat. “Until now, I wasn’t sure. I had the same misgivings I had with Paul. But, as of today, Morano and I made a verbal agreement. My company will be doing the dredging work for the hotel marina.”

“Really?” Marc arched a brow. “Why is that? Did you figure out what the Southampton locals want? Or is it just that you’d rather do business with Morano than with Everett?”

“I had nothing against Paul Everett, Mr. Devereaux. I already told you that. Do you think I’d encourage a relationship between him and my niece if I felt otherwise?”

“Of course not.” Picking up on Fenton’s growing agitation, Casey took it down a notch. “We’re just trying to get at anything that might give us a clue as to the way Paul Everett’s mind worked. You’re a shrewd businessman with shrewd instincts. We value anything you can tell us-even if it’s something you hadn’t considered before, when you assumed that Paul Everett was dead.”

That did the trick. Fenton calmed down. “I understand. No, to answer your question, my change of heart had nothing to do with Paul. I’ve just had more time to talk to my peers and to my fellow community members. The general consensus is that the influx of jobs and capital outweighs the inconvenience of the additional traffic. So I’d like to hope I made the right decision for the town.”

“I assume the Board agrees with you?”

A nod. “I think Morano will get the necessary permits to get his hotel off the ground.”

“That’s great.” Casey was careful to keep her tone noncommittal. “Speaking of which, I understand you’re a strong supporter of Congressman Mercer.”

As Casey had intended, that came at Fenton out of left field. And it didn’t take a behaviorist to see his reaction. Surprise. Discomfort. His eyes widened and the pulse at his neck beat faster.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” The street fighter in Fenton was there in full force. “Why? What does the congressman have to do with this?”

“Just that I was curious where the congressman stood on this issue. He’s been fairly ambiguous up to this point.”

“Ambiguous? I’d say he was weighing the pros and cons, just as I was. He’s determined to do what’s best for his constituency.”

“So you’ve discussed this with him?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. He seems to be of the same opinion as I am. That’s part of what swayed my decision.”

“Did the congressman know Paul Everett?”

“Only casually. I introduced them at a political party-the same party where Paul and Amanda met.”

“If they didn’t know each other, why was Everett there?” Casey asked, feigning puzzlement.

“Paul was a big fan of the congressman’s. He believed he was the real deal. He’d contributed to his campaign. So he got an invitation.” Fenton had had enough. “Why are we talking about the congressman? You can’t possibly think he’s connected with Paul’s disappearance?”

“Of course not,” Casey assured him. “We just thought that if he and Paul knew each other, we could interview the congressman in the hopes of learning something. But you’re saying they were barely acquainted.”

“I doubt they said a dozen words to each other. There’s nothing the congressman could tell you, believe me.”

“I do. It’s obvious that you and Congressman Mercer are close personal friends. I think that’s wonderful.”

Fenton was not happy with the turn this conversation was taking. “As it happens, our families have known each other for years. But what made you jump to the conclusion that we’re close personal friends?”

“We were listening to the news on our way over here,” Marc supplied. “We heard that Congressman Mercer had flown in from D.C. to have himself tested as a potential donor for Justin.”

“Oh, I see.” Fenton calmed down. “Yes, that’s true. But it’s not because we’re friends-although we are. It’s just the kind of a person Cliff is. Caring is in his nature, whether it’s for one or for many. I told him how critical the situation with Justin is. He offered to see if he, or anyone in his family, were donor matches.”

“It’s refreshing to hear a political figure described that way. Most of them do things like that to impress the public.”

“Not Cliff. He’s a genuinely fine man. And a genuinely fine public servant.”

“That explains why you were so instrumental in his campaign,” Casey noted.

That didn’t sit well with Fenton. “He’s the best thing that’s happened to Southampton in a long time. So if you’re implying that this is a case of one hand washing the other, it’s not. If you knew the congressman, you’d know he isn’t for sale.”

“I’m sure that’s the case. The fact that you think so highly of him speaks volumes.”

If Fenton picked up on the ambiguity of Casey’s statement, he didn’t react. “I’m far from the only one. Cliff won his seat by a landslide. And he certainly didn’t need my help to do it.”

Casey nodded. Time to bring this interview to a close-for now. “Marc and I won’t keep you any longer, Mr. Fenton.” She rose, with Marc smoothly following suit. “We appreciate your time.”

Fenton came to his feet, visibly unsettled by the abrupt closure to a conversation that had steered way off course. “I’m not sure I helped.”

“You gave us some insight into Paul Everett. That’s all we expected. The rest of it-the heavy lifting-is our job.” Casey handed him a business card. “If you think of anything else, please give us a call, any time of the day or night. We’re working 24/7 to find Justin’s father.”

“With very little time to do it in,” Fenton amended, that genuine distress crossing his face again.

“We’re narrowing things down.” Marc sounded more threatening than he did reassuring. Some of it was the role he was playing, and some of it was pure Marc. “I told Amanda we’d find Everett, and we will-through whatever means necessary.”

Fenton met Marc’s hard stare, then wet his lips and glanced away. “I hope so. Amanda swears by you. And I’m aware of your reputation. This is one time I hope you earn it.”

Five minutes later, Casey and Marc were back in the van, heading up the serpentine drive toward the gates.

“What a scumbag,” Marc stated flatly. “He’s dirty in more ways than we can count.”

“No argument.” Casey waited for the gates to open, then steered onto the main road. “The only thing about him that’s genuine is his feeling for Justin. He’s worried. Enough so that if he were directly involved in Paul Everett’s disappearance, he wouldn’t leave it that way.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Marc muttered. “Fenton’s drive for self-preservation trumps everything. Even the baby’s life.”

“That’s exactly why he’d save the baby’s life,” Casey refuted. “Justin represents his legacy, which is the only thing he gives a damn about.”

“So you think he wants us to find Everett?”

“I didn’t say that. I think he wants to find Everett. I think he believed he was dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he played a part in whatever happened. And if he is guilty of something, he’s probably frantic to find Paul before we do. That way, he can clean up whatever Paul has on him, and then make him disappear again, this time for good. Whether that means killing him or paying him off, I don’t know. There’s a menacing quality about that guy that tells me he’s capable of both.”