He reached for the door handle but hesitated. He searched her face. “You’re that sure you can take care of this?”
Her smile broadened into the genuine article. “Trust me, Mr. McGrath. I have never failed a client.”
Strange, she realized as McGrath got out of her car: That was something else she and Carson Tanner had in common.
Neither liked to lose.
23
8:00 p.m.
Birmingham Festive Fundraiser, Birmingham
Historic Richard Erwin House
Annette stood in the background, watching the elite of Birmingham mingle and smile as if they owned the world. Every city commissioner was in attendance, including tonight’s host, the distinguished Thomas Schmale, as well as a slew of other honorary event sponsors. The rich and famous gathered in their little cliques based on zip codes and financial portfolios. Gossiping and bragging, partaking of food from the hottest restaurants the city had to offer, and drinking the finest wines imported from around the world.
Not a one paid the slightest attention to her. She was simply another fixture, the woman who had organized and set the stage for tonight’s hefty donations to the Birmingham Historical Society’s Museum Endowment Fund. The extravagant gown, champagne in color so as to blend in, she’d selected and the sophisticated French twist in which she’d arranged her hair were of no consequence. These people had no desire to know who Annette Baxter was even had she been inclined to offer herself up to such scrutiny. They didn’t want to know. She performed with great success the services required, and that was all that mattered. Annette merely orbited their exclusive worlds.
And watched. Absorbed. She knew their secrets and used those secrets to her advantage. Not a one suspected just how vulnerable their inflated existences were until it was too late.
She needed some air. The hypocrisy was stifling and boring.
Annette deposited her glass on the tray of a passing waiter and made her way to the nearest exit, avoiding the clusters of philanthropic patrons. Outside, she crossed the upper terrace and took the steps down to the grand fountain where water misted the night air. White lights adorned the meticulously manicured landscape and glittered in the trees. Sometimes she still wondered at the grit and guts it had taken to claw her way into this ostentatious league.
Hard work.
Most nights she enjoyed her work. But not tonight.
Her world was crumbling around her. Holderfield was dead, just as she had predicted. She had recognized his desperation. Had known he was very close to crossing a line. She had warned Tanner, but her warning had fallen on deaf ears.
Now the man was dead.
Not her responsibility.
Jazel’s death, however, was entirely her responsibility.
Collateral damage. Harsh as it sounded, Jazel had known the risks. She had been unconditionally willing considering the exorbitant fee she received each time. But that didn’t change how very much Annette regretted her death. Jazel had been like a little sister to her ... almost. Annette had foolishly let herself care about the girl. Not good.
As for the other, whoever had seen to it that Holderfield took his last breath had ensured she would be a suspect. Her name on the deceased’s calendar meant nothing. She and Holderfield had not met in person that last time. Annette never met with a client in person after the initial encounter unless absolutely essential. Video calls were every bit as effective. The police had no physical evidence to connect her to Holderfield on the day of his death or the one prior. Not a single piece of tangible proof.
Yet it wouldn’t end so neatly. There would be more. A single item that would tie her to the crime scene was all it would take.
She stilled. Waiting for the other shoe to drop was not her style. Take action, that was her creed. It was time to make those responsible for her current dilemma sweat.
Any action at this point likely would not stop the momentum; all she could hope for was to derail the ultimate goal. She was the target. Not Otis. This was about her, no question. Time and again she had recalled the events of the night that had set this crash sequence in motion and found no fault on her own part. Her actions had been necessary. Rather than appreciate her quick, efficient work, they had decided she was too big a risk. Too great a threat, no matter that taking her down represented an equally dangerous course. She had to wonder how long this decision had been taking shape.
Annette would be the sacrificial lamb, the scapegoat. Any complications would somehow be attributed to her. Guilt placed at her feet. Then it would be done. The sticky mess resolved while concurrently getting her out of the way once and for all.
She had to hand it to them. Collectively those responsible had dredged up far more courage than she would have suspected the whole lot possessed.
Well, she wasn’t quite done. Giving up, running, those reactions were not in her character. She had too much to lose. Annette closed her eyes and thought of Paula. Her sister needed her to be strong. No matter how tempting it would be to disappear forever ... she could not. Not unless there was a way to see that Paula had all that she needed as well.
Stop. She could not allow that seed of doubt to take root.
“How did you know?”
Well, well, she had wondered when he would show up. Annette turned to face Carson Tanner. “I know many things, Mr. DDA. Do you have a specific question? Or are you ready to listen? That was the deal, after all.”
