Sandra Brown - Smoke Screen

“Nothing.”

“I sent you to him. That implicates me.”

“Is he dead?”

“There hasn’t been an official announcement. It’s touch and go. Media are camped out at the hospital awaiting word.” Then, angrily, “That is, every reporter in the state except your new girlfriend. She was with you this morning, correct?”

“Yes, but-”

“Christ. First Jay, now-”

“She didn’t smother Jay. You know I didn’t shoot Fordyce in the head.”

“Then how is it that he has a bullet in his brain? Why did you go to his house in the first place? Why didn’t you keep the appointment I set up for you-which will mean my career and my ass if anyone finds out. Why a surprise visit to his house?”

“I wanted to catch him off guard.”

She groaned. “Not a good answer, you idiot. Until you get a defense attorney, I advise you not to say that to anyone else.”

“When we left him, Cobb Fordyce was alive and well. We thought he had double-crossed us.”

“Another motive for shooting him.”

“I didn’t shoot him!”

“The police have the weapon. A Taurus.357. Will your prints be on it? Will hers?”

Raley rubbed his forehead, muttering, “Fuck me.”

“In other words, yes.”

“He must have used my pistol.”

“He? Who?”

“She’ll tell you. She’s on her way to you.”

“To me? Wha-”

“Listen! Listen to me. She doesn’t even know about Fordyce unless she’s heard it on the radio since we separated. I was to call and tell you to meet her where she interviewed you a few months ago. Do you know where she’s talking about? She said you would.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“She’ll be at the door where you let her in before. She’s got a video.”

“Of what?”

“She’ll explain everything. Will you meet her?”

“Do you realize what you’re asking? I have people-”

“I know this is a bad time.”

“Bad? No, it’s the worst time. Today of all days. Inconvenience and bad timing aside, you’re asking me to break the law.”

“She’s coming to turn herself in.”

“Great. I’ll call the police, tell them-”

“No. No police.”

“If I don’t, it smacks of aiding and abetting, obstruction of justice, and-”

“I know all that, Candy. But you gotta do this, and you gotta do it this way.”

“Why?”

“To save our lives.” He let that settle, then said, “The man who killed Jay showed up at Fordyce’s house this morning. Britt recognized him instantly.” He was past worrying about using their names. “After we bolted, Fordyce was shot in the head. Now, do the math. We would have been killed, too, if we hadn’t managed to escape. But we did, we can identify him, and this guy ain’t gonna quit.”

Subdued a bit, she said, “Who is this man? Why’d he kill Jay and shoot Fordyce? Does he have a name?”

“Not that I know.”

“A description?”

“Britt will fill you in. Hopefully she won’t be apprehended before she can get to you.”

“She’ll be half a block away from the courthouse. It’s a circus down here. Reporters are camped out along Broad, waiting-”

“I know. She’s taking a huge risk to get that video to you. Which should give you some idea of how vital it is.”

“Why is it so important?”

“When you watch it, you’ll know.” A customer at one of the service station pumps was eyeing him. Probably he was just an average Joe whose Dodge Ram was running low on fuel, but Raley didn’t know what the fourth hit man looked like. Until he did, he would regard every stranger as a potential assassin. “I can’t talk any longer. I’ve got to move.”

“Wait! Where are you? Why aren’t you with Britt?”

If he told Candy that, he would be creating for her another impossible choice, because she would be duty-bound to dispatch police to the McGowans’ estate. Sidestepping her question, he said, “Britt’s on her way. For godsake, Candy, be there.” He hung up before she could say anything more.

A silver Navigator was parked in the circular drive in front of George McGowan’s mansion, indicating that he was at home, but Raley saw no one around. Several sleek horses grazed in a paddock about fifty yards from the house. Otherwise the place looked deserted.

Taking the camcorder with him, Raley alighted from the car and walked up to the front door. He didn’t ring the bell, didn’t knock, just turned the knob and, finding the door unlocked, walked in.

He closed the door soundlessly, then paused to listen. The house was as still and silent as a tomb.

He started down the central hallway, his footsteps muffled by a long, narrow Oriental carpet. He looked into the room on his left, a dining room. On his right was a formal living room with a marble fireplace and a crystal chandelier, both as tall as he was. Oil paintings in gilt frames. Heavy drapes made of shiny material. Collectibles. Rich people stuff.

Murder had been profitable for George McGowan.

Raley continued down the wide foyer on tiptoe, halting when he heard the clink of glass against glass coming from a room on his right, behind the staircase. He approached stealthily, hesitating when he reached the open doorway, then cautiously peering around the doorjamb.

George was seated behind a large desk, a bottle of bourbon in front of him. A full highball glass was in one hand, a nine-millimeter pistol in the other. He saw Raley immediately and smiled.

Waving him in with his gun hand, he said, “Come in, Raley. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I have every confidence that my appointment will be approved by the Senate.”

Despite the upsetting call from Raley, Judge Cassandra Mellors didn’t postpone her scheduled press conference. The room was crowded with reporters jockeying for the best positions, but it wasn’t as well attended as it might have been.

The attempt on Cobb Fordyce’s life had divided the press corps. Many reporters who would have been here covering her all-important day were instead keeping vigil outside the hospital in Columbia, awaiting word on Fordyce’s condition.

“I spoke with the president just a few minutes ago,” she told her audience. “He assured me that the vote taking place later today is a formality. I hope he’s right.” She staved off the chorus of questions. “Naturally, my excitement has been overshadowed by the tragedy that took place this morning at the home of our attorney general, a former colleague and a man I consider still to be a friend. My thoughts and prayers are with Mrs. Fordyce and the boys, as well as with the medical personnel who are valiantly trying to save Cobb Fordyce’s life.”

A reporter asked, “If he survives, will there be permanent brain damage?”

“The extent of the injury and its residual effects haven’t been determined. At this point the doctors are trying to keep him alive.”

“Have you spoken to the detectives who are investigating the crime scene at the AG’s home?”

“No. Regarding that, I have no more details than you.”

“Have you spoken to Mrs. Fordyce?”

“No. Her brother is acting as spokesperson for the family. He’s said that Mrs. Fordyce is at her husband’s side and has requested all our prayers.”

“Is it true that Britt Shelley and Raley Gannon are being sought for questioning in the shooting?”

“I have no comment on that.”

“Mrs. Fordyce identified-”

She raised her hand. “That’s all I have time for now.”

She turned quickly and left them hurling questions at her. When she reached her office, she asked her secretary if there had been any messages. “Nothing, Judge,” she said.

“No word from the hospital?”

She shook her head. “Or from Washington.” Sheepishly, she added, “In spite of what happened today to Mr. Fordyce, I can’t help but be excited for you.”