Don’t trust anyone and watch your back.
Carson exiled Baxter’s warning. “Understood, sir.”
Behind schedule or not, Elizabeth’s timing proved impeccable. As she reached their table, Carson and Wainwright stood. The tension receded as swiftly as a courtroom clearing after the judge recessed for lunch.
“Sorry I’m late. I had an eight o’clock.” She smiled, then accepted a hug from Wainwright. “Since the mayor decided to host business until noon on Saturdays, you’d think there’d be more time. Somehow I seem to have less.” Her smile widened as she turned to Carson. “Carson.”
He gave her a quick hug. As usual, his heart reacted. More of that heavy guilt settled on his shoulders. How could he react to Annette Baxter so fiercely when all he’d ever wanted was Elizabeth? And finally, finally there was hope.
As soon as they took their seats once more the waitress returned, giving Carson yet another momentary reprieve.
“Do we have an update?” Elizabeth looked from Wainwright to Carson when the orders had been given. “The mayor is anxious to hear news that the investigation is progressing.”
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing new.” Carson hated being the reason for the disappointment on Elizabeth’s face. “We are,” he affirmed, “working diligently to change that. I have a couple of leads that look promising.” That was a bit of a stretch, but every good attorney knew how to embellish his case.
She nodded. “Excellent. I’ll pass that along.”
Carson’s cell phone vibrated. “Excuse me.” He retrieved it from his pocket and checked the screen. “I’m sorry,” he said to Elizabeth before glancing at Wainwright, “I need to take this.” Lieutenant Bill Lynch. Lynch had once been involved with the Fleming case, but that had been a long time ago. This call was more likely related to Zac Holderfield. Carson had asked to be kept up to speed. No need to mention that to Wainwright for obvious reasons.
Wainwright and Elizabeth moved into a discussion of whether or not the mayor would run for office again as Carson stepped away from the table.
Once he was clear of the dining room, he accepted the call. “Tanner.”
“Mr. Tanner, this is Bill Lynch.”
Tension rippled through Carson despite the fact that he’d known it was the lieutenant calling. Not only had Lynch been involved with the Fleming investigation on and off in the past, but he was also the detective who had worked the Tanner investigation. Who had shown compassion for Carson even during those twenty-four hours when everyone besides the senator had considered him a suspect in the slaying of his own family. Hearing the man’s voice always resurrected painful memories.
“What can I do for you, Lynch?” Carson braced for news on Zac’s murder.
“Well, sir, we have a possible homicide. Dr. Dwight Holderfield’s body was discovered in his home early this morning.”
Carson’s fingers turned to ice, and the phone nearly slipped from his hand. He tightened his grip.
Holderfield? What the hell?
Today Zac Holderfield’s body was discovered. His father will be next.
Dread welled in Carson’s gut. There had to be some mistake. “Any special circumstances?” Robbery or vengeance. Anything that would explain ... and had nothing to do with Baxter. Surely she wouldn’t go this far to get his attention.
“Not just yet,” Lynch said. “We’re going to play this thing like it’s a murder for now.”
Confusion drew Carson’s eyebrows together. “For now?”
“We haven’t confirmed anything yet, but there’s some question as to whether or not the doctor may have committed suicide.”
That sickening dread morphed into heart-thumping alarm as the nameLana Kimbleechoed in his brain.
Before Carson could question that assessment, Lynch went on. “The reason I’m calling you personally, Mr. Tanner, is because we found a notation on his calendar that might interest your office. Luttrell said I should discuss this with you.”
Anticipation overrode the alarm. “What kind of notation?”
“According to Holderfield’s desk calendar, he had a meeting with an Annette Baxter last evening.”
Shit. “What time?” Rage crept into the volatile mix already churning inside him.
“The time wasn’t specified. The notation was simply listed on the bottom of the calendar page, after five o’clock.”
“Are you at the scene?” Carson needed to be there.Now.
