“After his dad died, Troy moved into his father’s house, a palatial residence in Bluffview. Two days after his partner, Arthur Haines, was killed, he turned in his old Porsche and leased a new one. Oh, and he’s seeing a woman named Delia Parr, the late Lee Haines’s fiancée.”
Delia Parr.Reese remembered her.Didn’t take her long to get back in the game, he thought. From his impression at the funeral, he wasn’t surprised.
“What about Graves’s finances?”
“Troy’s not the best credit risk. In the last six months, he’s developed a habit of being late on his bills. His mortgage is a couple of months behind. For a while, his spending slowed down, but recently there’s been an uptick. He must think he’s going to have money coming in from somewhere.”
“Yeah, and I think I know where. Anything else?”
“I can dig deeper if you want.”
“That’s enough for now. Thanks, Tabby.” Reese hung up the phone. It was almost closing time. He hadn’t made much progress but tomorrow he’d start again. He was tired, his headache returning, but he was looking forward to his evening with Kenzie.
He was thinking about the things he wanted to say when his intercom buzzed.
“Troy Graves is here to see you, Reese.” He could hear the tension in Kenzie’s voice, felt the same tension settle between his shoulders.
He’d tossed his Nighthawk after the shooting in Shreveport. The Beretta he’d used as backup was in his right-hand top desk drawer.
He reached over and unlocked it. “Send him in.”
The door opened and Kenzie walked into his office, personally escorting Troy into the room. She closed the door behind her, gave him a look that dared him to send her away. She wanted to be there, wanted to hear what Graves had to say. He didn’t like it. He had no idea what Troy might do. But she had saved his life. He figured he owed her that much.
Reese rose behind his desk. “I’m surprised to see you here. You know my assistant, McKenzie Haines. I’d like her to sit in on our meeting.”
Troy’s dark eyes ran over her, took in her stunning figure and softly curling mahogany hair. A knowing smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “Same old Reese.”
Reese clamped down on a surge of temper. “Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, unfortunately for you I’m still alive.”
Troy’s pupils flared an instant before his expression hardened. “I came to talk to you. Figure things out, you know? CEO to CEO. That’s what we do, right?”
Wariness slipped through him. Men were dead. Graves was involved. How far was Troy willing to go to get what he wanted? “Sometimes.”
Troy’s glance strayed to Kenzie and returned. “You always win, don’t you?”
A sound came from Kenzie’s throat as Troy reached beneath his suit coat and pulled out a semiautomatic pistol, aimed it at Reese’s chest.
Rage burned through him. “I thought you just wanted to talk.”
“It’s past time for that.” Troy kept the gun leveled at Reese, then turned it toward Kenzie. “Get over by the window. You, too, Reese.”
Neither of them moved. Reese considered the gun in his desk. If he could distract Troy long enough, he could reach it.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I can still sign the platform over to Black Sand Oil and Gas. You’d get the rig, and we could pretend none of this ever happened.”
Troy chuckled. “So I guess you haven’t heard. My inside man got busted. The fool kept the money I’ve been sending him under his goddamn bed. I don’t know what the idiot did to get caught, but whatever it was, he promptly spilled his guts. Coast Guard picked him up. They transported him from the Poseidon to the Galveston sheriff’s station. By now there’s a good chance the cops are looking for me.”
“How did you find out?” Reese asked.
“It’s always better to have one spy keeping track of another. The second guy’s job was to keep me informed.” He zeroed in on Reese. “I won’t be needing either one of them anymore.”
Reese glanced at Kenzie. She knew the Beretta was in his desk drawer. As long as he kept Troy talking, he could probably reach it, but he had already killed one man and he was determined not to do it again. If he did, he might lose the only woman he had ever loved.
Kenzie’s eyes questioned him as he ignored the pistol and rounded the desk, putting him closer to Troy.
Troy’s gun hand wavered. “What are you doing?” His grip tightened. “I told you to get over by the window.”
“There’s still time to talk,” Reese said calmly. “You’re an important man in Dallas. With a good attorney—” Reese lunged and Kenzie screamed as the two men flew through the air and landed hard on the floor. Reese gripped Troy’s wrist, fighting for control of the pistol, and Troy pulled the trigger, sending shock waves across the room.
