The warning came through loud and clear. Interfering in a federal investigation was a serious offense. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Taggart set his unfinished cola down on the coffee table and stood up. “At some point, we may have a few more questions for you.”
Reese walked him back to the elevator. “You know where to find me.”
The agent left and Reese’s mind went back to what he had learned. If the crash wasn’t meant to kill anyone, maybe it was just supposed to be another accident involving the Poseidon. The more problems, the more chance Garrett Resources would pull the plug on the deal.
So who the hell was willing to go to that much trouble? And why?
FBI warning or not, Reese intended to find out. On Monday, he’d call Derek Stiles, bring him up to speed and get his reaction, see if there’d been any more problems in the last few days.
At least now he knew no one was trying to kill him.
Still, when he finally shut down his computer and went to bed, he had too much on his mind to sleep. Instead, he thought of the problems with the Poseidon deal, thought of Kenzie, and slid into an erotic dream that didn’t last nearly long enough, then shifted in and out of a restless half slumber. A little before dawn, he gave up and rolled out of bed, weary and out of sorts.
After a quick shower and getting dressed in a dark gray pinstripe suit and white shirt, he poured himself a travel cup of coffee and headed for the office. Kenzie usually arrived around seven thirty, but it was a quarter to eight when a knock sounded on his office door. His pulse kicked up in anticipation as he pulled it open.
Instead of Kenzie, Dallas police detective Heath Ford, a longtime friend of Chase’s, stood in the doorway, along with two police officers in crisp black DPD uniforms.
“Heath,” Reese said. “What’s going on?”
“I know it’s early, but I need to talk to you about one of your employees.”
Reese opened the door wider. “Come on in.”
Ford, a good-looking, dark-haired cop in his late forties, was one of the best homicide detectives in the department. It didn’t bode well that a murder cop was standing in his office.
The detective turned to the two uniformed officers. “Wait here. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Reese closed the door behind him. “What’s this about, Detective?”
“You know a man by the name of Lee Haines?”
An icy chill slid down his spine. “I do. His ex-wife is my executive assistant.”
“That’s the reason I’m here. Lee Haines was found dead this morning. Two bullets to the chest, one in the thigh, fired from a .38 caliber revolver.”
Reese thought of Griff. Haines wasn’t a great dad, but now the boy would grow up without a father. “When was he killed?”
“Saturday night. ME gives a tentative time of death around midnight. Housekeeper found him on the floor of his bedroom this morning.”
“I assume you’re here to inform Kenzie of her ex-husband’s death.”
“I’m here to ask Ms. Haines some questions in regard to the murder. Do you know anything about her relationship with her ex?”
Reese’s instincts went on alert. Ford was clearly there as more than just the bearer of bad news. “The divorce wasn’t friendly, but then most of them aren’t, including mine.”
“Did you know Lee Haines had filed for full custody of his son, Griffin?”
“I knew,” Reese admitted.
“You knew she was fighting it?”
“She’s my assistant,” Reese reminded him carefully. “I knew she loved her son. She mentioned Lee had filed a suit for full custody. There was never any doubt she would fight it.”
“But she doesn’t have to fight it now, does she? Lee Haines is dead.”
His temper rose. He was famous for his control, but for some reason where Kenzie was concerned, it was a struggle. Reese took a moment to settle himself. “What’s going on, Detective?”
