“If I had my way,” he said, “I’d haul you straight back to bed, but unfortunately, we’re expected.”
A pink blush crept into her face, but there was interest in those big blue eyes.
Jonah forced himself to think of murder, which always cooled his ardor. “As soon as you’re dressed, we’ll go.”
April drained her mug and headed for the bedroom. She came out a few minutes later in her Walmart jeans and sneakers, holding the little silver clutch she’d had with her at the fund-raiser last night.
It didn’t take long to reach Tabby’s house. Jonah parked in front and the two of them walked up the concrete path to the door.
Jonah rang the bell and waited. It took a couple more tries before the door finally swung wide and Tabby stood in the opening.
“Hey, Wolfe. Good to see you.” Her straight black hair and the Maltese cross hanging around her slender neck gleamed in the sunlight. “Come on in.”
They walked into the living room. “Tabby, this is April Vale. April, meet Tabby Love.”
April smiled. “Hi, Tabby.”
“Hi, April. Nice to meet you. Jonah told me about the murder. The news said it was self-defense.”
“That’s what the police are saying. But David didn’t try to rape me and I didn’t kill him.”
Jonah began filling Tabby in on recent events, including the blackmail trap they had laid at the fund-raiser last night.
“Unfortunately, it worked a little too well. A couple of thugs in a black SUV shot up the limo as we were leaving the hotel. Reggie Porter was driving or one of us might have ended up dead.”
“You think someone called them from the party?”
“That would be a good guess.”
“Well then, you’ll be happy to know I found your motive—the reason David Dean was killed. Come on, I’ll show you.” Tabby led them down the hall into her crowded bedroom/office and sat down in front of a row of computers and high-tech monitors. A dozen lights of various colors and sizes blinked around the room.
Tabby worked the keyboard and a series of columns popped up on one of the screens.
“What are we looking at?” Jonah asked.
“Bank account transactions.”
Jonah wasn’t surprised. “Follow the money. Always a good place to start.” He’d wanted Tabby to keep an open mind, take a look from every possible angle, but it usually came down to money, sex or revenge.
Tabitha tipped her head toward the monitor. “That’s a Cayman Island offshore account. It’s in the name of Action Advertising.” She tapped the screen with a dark red fingernail. “The deposits came from an account at the Alamo Bank in Houston.”
“I’m trying to connect the dots,” April said, frowning. “Is Action Advertising somehow involved in the mayor’s campaign?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tabby said. “It’s involved, all right.”
“I’m the mayor’s marketing manager. I work with a lot of advertising firms, but I’ve never heard of Action. Of course they could be doing work for the social media people or something.”
Tabby looked up from her chair in front of the keyboard, the silver studs in her nose and eyebrows glowing in the light of the computer screen. “You’ve never heard of Action, because it doesn’t actually exist. The account is owned by Collin Rutherford.”
Jonah could almost see April’s mind working. “Collin’s in charge of fund-raising,” she said, putting the pieces together. “A huge amount of money passes through the account into the campaign treasury. If he’s writing checks to himself—”
“How much money are we talking about?” Jonah asked.
“To date, four hundred forty thousand dollars.”
“That bastard!” April’s eyes blazed and her cheeks turned red.
“How much is the mayor’s reelection budget?” Jonah asked.
