“No more conjecture. I want the truth. Now.”
She settled the bag on the floor. “All right.” Shock quaked through her. She’d said the words before her brain had analyzed exactly what she intended to do.
No more pretending she could reach him without going the full distance. She had to give him what he wanted ... or risk losing everything. If anyone knew about his trip to Holman, she was screwed anyway. Wainwright would know she’d advised him to talk to Stokes. Wainwright was nobody’s fool.
No more protecting anyone. But Paula and herself.
Considering the incident with the scissors at the center, being stalked by a black sedan, Jazel’s death, the use of Tanner’s vehicle for target practice and then the vandalism to her own, there was no denying they were in serious danger.
Annette’s gaze locked with his. “Last Sunday evening around six I received a call from Dane.”
“Dane Drake?”
She nodded. That he was so surprised told her he knew nothing about what she did for men like Drake. “He had a problem.” Deep breath. Just do it. “I’ve taken care of problems for the senator related to his son before.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Dane has a way of getting himself into fixes,” she explained. “Usually drug related. He gets involved with the wrong people. Runs up debts he can’t pay. Things like that.”
“And you do what?”
Tanner’s penetrating stare made her uncomfortable. She’d faced far more powerful men than him. That he could make her doubt herself disturbed her.
“I resolve the problem. The fix usually involves paying someone to keep their mouth shut. Simple stuff really.” She wet her lips. “Until last Sunday.”
“Exactly what happened last Sunday?”
She had his full attention now. His eyes were no longer listless and dull. His gaze was sharp, searching. His posture was different, too. Battle ready.
“Dane called me to pick him up at a friend’s.”
“Does this friend have a name?”
For the first time in a really long time she hesitated. “Zac Holderfield.”
She watched that realization creep over his features. “What’re you telling me?” Fury kindled in those dark depths now.
“That Dane killed him.” Before he could demand more answers, she added, “But it was self-defense. The gun belonged to Zac. He and Dane had a disagreement over a business deal. There was a struggle, and you can imagine the rest.”
“You helped him dispose of the body.”
She nodded. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t draw in a decent breath. What she had to tell him next could go either way, for her or against her.
He closed his eyes. “Jesus Christ.” His eyes flew open once more. “Why the hell didn’t he just call the police?”
“Think about it. He’s Senator Randolph Drake’s son. Men like Drake don’t abide scandal.”
“What did you do with the weapon?”
“Wiped it.” She swallowed with difficulty. “Tossed it.”
He planted his hands on his hips and started pacing. “You understand that I have to report this.”
“There’s more.”
He glared at her.
“I ... I have to show you.”
