Kasey Michaels - Mischief 24/7

“Sometimes I feel like I’m in the middle of a TV cop show, do you know that, Jade? Who writes your dialogue?”

Jade felt herself blushing. “Sorry. Cop talk again. It can be a little raunchy, but it doesn’t really mean anything and keeps a person from feeling too much when facts are what we need to concentrate on. Teddy didn’t bother to watch his words around me. But let’s get back to this, okay? Does anything I said make sense to you?”

“I think so, yes. Especially the part about Melodie trying to hold what she thought she knew over Brainard’s head and Brainard deciding that his wife—and of course, Teddy—had to go. Kill one, blame it on the other one, play the grieving widower all the way to City Hall in November. The press has already all but ordained him, his wife’s murder passed over in favor of concentrating on the bereaved husband who will press on through this personal tragedy for the good of the city. Very neat, a tidy, convenient solution to all his problems.”

Jade closed her eyes for a moment. “Kills Tarin, kills his own son and then stands there as Tarin is buried, not even blinking. Nearly two decades later, another problem slams him in the chops. What can he do? So he thinks, hey, if it worked once to solve his problems, murder, that is, why couldn’t it work again? They say it’s the only thing that gets easier the more you do it—killing people. Joshua Brainard is a monster, isn’t he? A sociopath with no heart or conscience.”

“If we’re right, yes. If we’re wrong, he’s the wildly popular and lovable guy with a fistful of top-tier Philadelphia lawyers ready to strip us all to our skivvies in a civil lawsuit. Which begs the question—what next? We’re still working on that slim margin of facts up against a ton of conjecture.”

“Yes, but what if we’re right, down-the-line right, start to finish? I don’t think this can wait for Matt and Jessica to get back. We can’t hold off a moment longer than we have to, not with the news about Tarin White not being a Fishtown Strangler victim going to hit the papers at any time. We’ve got nothing to connect Brainard to Teddy’s murder, not a damn thing. We need a confession.”

“Back to Teddy. Right. Nothing like keeping our priorities straight.”

“Don’t do that, Court. Yes, back to Teddy. What happened to Tarin and her baby was horrible, but Teddy was my father, damn it. Tarin is our one big piece of leverage there and I don’t want to lose it. I think we have to confront Brainard immediately, Court. Just go right in, head-on, and slap him with what we do know, and hope he slips up, says something incriminating. We get that, and it’s like dominoes—they all start to fall.”

“Fine. With one caveat. I want to wait until Jessica and Matt get back. You said they’ll be home tomorrow night. Excuse the cop talk, but it always helps to have a badge along.”

“No, not Matt. He’s already skating on thin ice with the department, according to Jessica. We’ll do it ourselves, tomorrow morning. Unless you’d rather not go with me, and I’d certainly understand if you didn’t want to. I can take Bear Man with me. As Sam said when Jolie pulled one of her stunts that backfired on him, you have to do business in this town.”

“Now I guess I’m caught between bragging—saying Brainard can’t hurt Becket Hotels—and being a wimp and pointing out that, if we’re wrong or just can’t prove what we’re saying, Brainard will use all his political clout as mayor to drive me crazy with inspections and zoning changes and you name it every time I want to put up a new towel rack in the hotel. Let’s stick with bragging—I’m going with you.”

Jade quickly closed the file in front of her and stacked all the folders together on the coffee table. There was still one more case, the most personal of the cases—that of scholar athlete Terrell Johnson. But that had to wait. “Your call, Court, but thank you. I’m going to go upstairs and check Joshua’s official Web site, see where he’s making campaign appearances tomorrow.”

“Out of curiosity, what do you plan to say to the man?”

“All right, let’s review.”

“Please. I like to think I’m a fairly intelligent man, but I have to tell you that it’s getting so a man can’t tell the players without a scorecard. You want to be the one who tells him about Tarin, correct? That’s your opening?”

“See? You do know what I’m planning. Matt said it will be a day or two before the press learns that Tarin White was not one of the Fishtown Strangler’s victims. Knowing how City Hall leaks, knowing that Brainard’s father knows everyone down there, I’d say one day. I think I want to be the one who breaks that particular piece of news to Joshua Brainard. I want to tell him we know he paid for Tarin’s dental implants—that should work for starters—and then hit him with the rest. I’ll be able to tell a lot from his reaction to those two facts. Then I’ll pile on a little with one other piece of information—that we know he donated the plot for Tarin’s burial so that she wasn’t buried in a potter’s field like some charity case.”

“When did we find that out?”

“We didn’t. We just know some anonymous donor came forward and fronted the money for the private plot. We just say we know it’s him, and maybe he admits it, maybe he doesn’t.” She rubbed her palms together carefully as, yes, they were still tender. “I’m glad Jessica isn’t here. I’ve been sidelined long enough with waiting for these burns to heal, and then with chasing my tail trying to get somewhere with the Terrell Johnson case. I can’t wait to go at Brainard tomorrow.”

wait a minute, Jade, I think I might have found a flaw in your plan,” Court said. “Brainard isn’t in town, remember? After his father’s collapse at that political rally last week, he took the old man to some vacation home they’ve got out west. We don’t know if they’re back yet.”

“Damn, I forgot that part,” Jade said, clenching her fists. She was so ready to go after the man. “You know, I still think Clifford Brainard is much too protective of his golden child. That was a pretty convenient collapse, just as reporters were asking him questions about Melodie’s murder seeming a lot like the Fishtown Strangler had struck again. Man, when Jess lies, she lies for effect, doesn’t she? I still can’t believe she got her reporter friend to print that one.”

“You think Clifford Brainard knows his son is a murderer?”

“He wouldn’t be the first parent to protect a monster of a child. Yes, anything’s possible. But that’s a good thought, Court. We need to meet Joshua away from Daddy Brainard.”

“Cut the calf from the herd, you mean. I think I remember now that the Brainard vacation place is a working cattle ranch. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. I’m still going to go check Joshua’s appearance schedule on his official Web site. Leading in the polls or not, he can’t stay off the campaign trail too long. I’m betting he’s back and will resurface at some point tomorrow. Breakfast at seven?”

Court stood up just as she did, his body close to hers once more. “That sounds reasonable. I have one or two calls to make, playing time-zone tag with a few investors, so I’ll be up around four. It’s almost a waste to try to sleep now, although going to bed remains an option.”

Once again Jade’s eyes pricked with tears. How long had she been holding back the torrent of tears that kept prodding her to let them fall? “Big game tomorrow, coach,” she said, trying to keep her voice upbeat as she pushed a smile onto her face. “No sex before the big game. It’s a team rule.”

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him the way he had kissed her—quickly and on the cheek. “Which doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate a win when it’s over.”