“Reese is already helping us, honey. His brothers are detectives. They’re looking for clues.”
His features brightened. “Really?”
“Yes, they’re doing their best to help.”
“Okay.” He looked up, his shoulders less tense. If Reese was helping, surely everything would be okay. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one falling under Reese’s spell. “You still want to go swimming?” he asked.
“Sure.” She forced a smile, hoping a few laps in the pool would burn off some of the adrenaline still pumping through her system. “I’ll change into my suit and be right down.”
As she headed up the stairs, she saw Griff wander over to the window and stand there staring out. From the upstairs bedroom, she saw what he was looking at, an unmarked police car parked down the block.
Dear God, when would this nightmare end?
Late Friday afternoon, Reese got a call from Tabby.
“I took another look at Daniel Haines and this time I went deep. The guy is squeaky-clean and I mean golden. He isn’t up for reelection for two more years, but if the vote were held tomorrow, the guy would win by a landslide.”
“An honest politician. A rare commodity. Thanks, Tabby.”
“I figured while I was at it, I’d check on Lee.”
Reese had already done the basics, but anything he learned could be useful. “And?”
“Born and raised in Dallas. Married Kenzie right after she got out of college. Had a son, divorced five years ago. Considered himself a real estate entrepreneur and he definitely made some money in the business, but there were lawsuits and scandals, endless rumors about his integrity. No wonder Kenzie dumped him.”
He thought of the hospital photos he had seen. “Good call on her part.”
“You figure out who killed him?”
“Not yet.”
“One more thing. Bran called, said he’d been busy getting the office ready, asked me to look into Arthur. From what I could tell, Arthur’s a lot like his son—not Daniel, the other one.”
“Anything specific?”
“Not yet, but I’m on it.”
When the call ended, Reese phoned John Denton, VP of sales and acquisitions at Sea Titan, asked him if Black Sand Oil and Gas had made an offer on the Poseidon. The answer was no.
“You must have had other offers,” Reese said.
“We had interest from other companies, but we didn’t really put it up for bid. We knew if Garrett Resources bought the rig, the deal would likely go through. I hope nothing’s happened to change that.”
“You know we’ve had problems. But we’re working them out. I’m just following up, keeping on top of things.”
“Let me know if you need my help.”
“Thanks, John, I will.” So Black Sand hadn’t made an offer. But if the company was in trouble, maybe Arthur was having second thoughts. Expanding into offshore drilling could be the answer to his prayers.
Reese needed more information.
A little after 6:00 p.m., he joined Chase at Clancy’s, in the same wooden booth as before, sipping the same Irish whiskey.
Chase slid into the booth across from him, rubbed a hand over the close-cropped gold beard along his jaw, and ordered a beer. The waitress with the curly blond hair arrived with a frosty bottle of Lone Star a few minutes later. She flicked Reese a glance as she walked away, but he ignored the not-so-subtle invitation. He had another woman on his mind.
“How was the funeral?” Chase asked, then took a long swallow of beer.
“I felt sorry for Griff. Losing a dad is hard, even if he was a rotten father.”
