“I’m not exactly sure. I think it might have had something to do with granting a contract to a particular company, someone your father wanted.”
“Did Scott agree?”
“He didn’t want to. He grumbled about it, said he didn’t have any choice. Apparently he owed Senator Reese for a vote he had cast on a bill Scott wanted passed. I didn’t press for more. As the wife of a politician, I’ve learned when to push and when to let something go. Now I wish I had pushed harder.”
Beau set his mug down on the coffee table. “There’s no reason to believe the favor Scott did for my father had any bearing on what happened to him or my dad. But there’s always a chance it could be important. Whether it is or isn’t, I appreciate your telling me.”
“As an investigator,” Cassidy said, “I’ve learned that any little scrap of information can turn out to be helpful. You never know what it might be.”
They stood up from the sofa and Emily stood up, too. She led them to the front door. “Thank you for coming. I feel better just telling someone about my suspicions.”
“We’ll do our best to follow up,” Cassidy said.
“If it turns out to be something, I’ll let you know,” Beau said.
Emily set her hand on his arm. “Whatever you find out, I don’t want to know. Can you understand that?”
A thread of unease filtered through him. He thought of the hit-and-run driver, the man who had run Cassidy off the road. “I understand,” he said.
“Thank you again,” Cassidy said. Turning away, they headed down the stone walkway to the car.
* * *
“Your father wanted a favor,” Cassidy mused as the Ferrari rolled toward home.
“That was definitely the way he did business.”
“We know your dad visited Watson two weeks before he died, so about six weeks ago. If I remember right, that was about the time he paid back most of the money he borrowed from Vaughn.”
“Most but not all,” Beau said.
“Maybe he paid the rest with a favor—something Vaughn wanted.”
“Yeah, like getting a big fat construction contract for one of his clients.”
Cassidy started nodding. “Let’s work with that. Let’s assume your father got Watson to convince the members of the committee to give the contract to the company your dad wanted. Two weeks later, Watson is killed so there wouldn’t be any connection.”
“You’re making a pretty big leap.”
“Yes, I am. And here’s where that leap takes us. Watson was a loose end. Your father was a loose end, too. Both of them knew about the deal. Vaughn wasn’t taking any chances. He had both men killed.”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Weneed to find out if Scott Watson recommended a particular company and if so, how much the contract was worth.”
“Emily said the state was spending six hundred million for deferred maintenance and new construction. That’s big bucks.”
Beau’s gaze sharpened on hers. “Yeah, plenty of motive for murder.”
The sky was clearing, clouds drifting away, exposing patches of blue. But the streets were still wet as the Ferrari drove back toward the house.
“The contract might be public record,” Cassidy said, thinking out loud. “Some kind of public filing or something.”
“If it isn’t, I might be able to find out. My father was a politician for eighteen years, a senator for the last twelve. I can make some calls, talk to some people I know, try to get the information we need. Tomorrow’s Monday. Even the politicians will be back at work.”
Cassidy sat back in her seat, enjoying the roar of the powerful engine as the Ferrari moved effortlessly along the road. They had almost reached Beau’s house when his cell phone started ringing. He checked the number, answered it on the hands-free.
“Hey, Missy.” He smiled.
“Hi, Beau. I hate to . . . umm . . . bother you, but you said to call if we found something.”
