Jackson looked to this side, his expression a little wistful. “I know what you mean. I feel like half the time when I’m home, I’m counting down the days until my lease ends so I can move to a better place.”
“You’re notstill in the place on Sixty-Third?”
“No. After you left, I waited out the lease, and then I found a place downtown, closer to the courthouses. I’ve been renting there for the last few years, but the landlord is a deadbeat. I’ve finally got the money to put a solid down payment on something, so I’ve been looking at co-ops and condos closer to my office. There are actually a couple of reallynice buildings in Hell’s Kitchen, once you get past the theater district. One of my clients has a place in the Fifties between Ninth and Tenth that is spectacular.”
“But then you’re near all those gay bars.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Maybe Iwantto be near all those gay bars.” He clicked his pen a couple of times. “Maybe it’s a cliché to move to the gayborhood, especially since I’ve neverreally been big into nightlife, but I’m also not getting any younger, so it can’t hurt, right? Maybe Mr. Right is in one of those bars.”
Park swallowed. Jackson’s Mr. Right could not be in one of those bars. He had no right to Jackson, but Park felt that spike of jealousy all the same. “You said you were single, but I guess I assumed you’d be seeing someone by now.”
“I haven’t been sittingat home, pining for you all this time, if that’s what you mean. I have dated other people. My last relationship ended a couple of months ago.”
“What happened?” Park regretted asking almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He didn’t want to know about Jackson being with anybody else.
“He wanted to move in together and I...didn’t.”
“Oh.”
“Eh, it’s for the best. He wasn’tit for me.”
Park couldn’t be it for Jackson, either, not under the circumstances, though he couldn’t help but picture a world in which he could ask for Jackson back.
“This is not why I came here,” said Jackson.
“What other questions did you have for me?” Park said, trying to refocus the conversation. Any more talk of Jackson’s love life would undo Park.
“Yes. Okay. These are mostlystupid things. I gotta start with the Haufmans.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
* * *
The longer Jackson sat in Park’s hotel room, the more he thought he’d made a mistake rushing over here. What had he really thought he’d accomplish? Park didn’t say anything particularly illuminating, and he didn’t seem to have any new information, at least not in addition to what Reed had already dug up.
Jackson quickly scribbled down his alternate theory of the crime with the hopes of presenting it to Gavin. As he finished up his notes, Park said, “Mind if I flip on the TV?”
“Knock yourself out.”
The proper-voiced sound of newscasters reading off a teleprompter filled the room. Jackson tried to think of the best way to word the story he wanted to tell Gavin, but the glowing light ofthe TV and the drone of the newscasters distracted him. He looked up.
“Police have yet to make an arrest, but Metro News has learned that there is evidence the victim and Mr. Livingston knew each other prior to the night of the murder.”
Jackson looked up in time to see that damn photo of Park and Zoe Haufman flash on the screen.
“Sources in the NYPD say they do not currently have enoughevidence to make an arrest but hope to by the end of the week. And that’s it for this hour, but stay tuned for Brett Handley and a more in-depth look at this mysterious case.” The screen dimmed and then came back on a handsome anchor. “Welcome to the Handley Report. Our main story tonight is former New York Assemblyman and current United States Senate candidate Parker Livingston, one of therichest men in America, currently embroiled in a grisly tale of scandal and murder. Is he guilty? Could this have been a lover’s spat gone wrong? We’re going to spend the next hour taking a closer look at the evidence as we try to determine—”
Park flipped the TV off. “That’s enough of that.”
“That photo, man.”
“It’s not like I can do anything about it. I can’t go back in time and tellthe photographer not to take it.”
“If the media is already presenting the case as a romance gone wrong...” Jackson glanced at Park, who sat beside him on the sofa. Of course, the easiest thing to do would be for Park to tell the world he could not have been involved with that woman, but Jackson knew better than to even propose that. “I don’t think I quite understood the extent to which themedia is involved in this case.”
“Surely you’ve seen the crowds of cameras outside. I haven’t left this building in almost four days because my campaign people don’t want me to talk to the press.”
Jackson looked Park over. He’d changed out of his customary suit and wore a loose white cotton shirt untucked and a crisp-looking pair of jeans—Park’s version of casual. Park ran a hand throughhis dark blond hair, which left it slightly askew, very uncharacteristic of Park’s usual control-freak, never a hair out of place, appearance. This was Park with his guard down, comfortable in a way he never quite looked in public. He still had some measure of tension in his body, but he was a little more relaxed than he was when his whole staff were around him.
