It was an ugly story, one he couldn’t tell without hurting someone else. “We had some business to discuss. We worked it out yesterday. I came back today with the paperwork for him to sign.”
“What happened when you got there?”
“When I walked into the study, my father was lying on the floor.” He swallowed as the memory arose. “He was covered in blood. There was a letter opener buried in his chest. Whoever stabbed him must have done it just a few minutes before I got there.”
“You didn’t go after the assailant? Try to catch him?”
“I was trying to save my father’s life so no, I didn’t go after him. I didn’t hear anything or see anyone—I wish I had. I don’t think the killer was still in the house.”
“Your father was a retired senator. He must have surveillance cameras on the property.”
Beau shook his head. “My dad didn’t like them. He felt they were an invasion of his privacy.” And some of the people he dealt with were the sort who didn’t want their visits recorded.
“Too bad,” Tom said.
“Yeah.”
Tom turned to Cassidy Jones. “So you were working at the house when it happened?”
“I hadn’t gone into his office yet that day. I have a workspace set up in the guest house. That’s where I’ve been staying.”
Beau shot her a glance.The guest house.Damned convenient. He wondered if she was telling the truth about her relationship with his dad.
“So the senator was expecting you?”
“Yes,” Cassidy said. “There were some things he wanted to discuss. But when I walked in, I saw . . . I saw him lyingon the floor, his chest covered in blood. I saw that he had been stabbed.”
“Where was Beau at that time?”
Cassidy’s gaze swung in his direction, and he didn’t like what he saw in her face. “Beau was leaning over his father. He had the letter opener in his hand.”
“I was pulling it out!” Beau shot to his feet. “I was trying to save his life!”
Cassidy’s eyes locked with his. “I don’t know exactly what happened before I got there, but Beau did everything he could to save his father. Unfortunately, it was already too late.”
Tom eyed him a little differently now. “I’ll need to take both of your statements. I’d like to do that down at the station. You can ride with me or meet me there.”
“My car is back at the house,” Beau said. Where he’d left it to ride in the ambulance.
“I can drive you home to get it,” Cassidy said. She looked down at her blood-stained clothes. “Would it be all right if I went into the guest house to change?”
“You can go in and get some clothes, change at the station. Take one of the officers in with you. What about you, Beau?”
“I’ve got an overnight bag in my car.”
“So you planned to stay in town?”
“Actually, no. Just force of habit. Always better to be prepared.”
Cassidy stood up from her chair, hesitated, then released a breath. “Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you, Detective Briscoe.”
Setting her purse on the table, she opened it, took out a leather badge wallet and flipped it open. “I’m a private investigator. I work for an agency called Maximum Security in Dallas. The senator hired me last week. He wanted me to do a little digging. He was worried. He said he thoughtsomeone was following him. He said people had been asking questions. He wanted to know who it was and why. He specifically said he didn’t think his life was in danger. Obviously he was wrong.”
* * *
Cassidy studied Beau as Detective Briscoe took his leave. Strong biceps filled the sleeves of his blood-stained sweater. His forearms were tanned and corded with sinewy muscle. Despite the circumstances, he looked good.Too good, she thought as the two of them walked out of the hospital into the sunlight.
Two months ago, her relationship with Richard Shelton, a successful Dallas attorney, had come to an end. She had enjoyed Rick and he had enjoyed her, but they weren’t in love, and when work began to hold more appeal than an evening at home with Rick, it was clearly time to move on.
