I pulled up the picture of her suicide note and showed it to him. “Ms. Ramirez said she showed the note to the police, but they left it with her. That makes no sense to me. It would serve to corroborate the cause of death as suicide, wouldn’t it?”
Spitzer stared at me for a moment before he placed both of his forearms on the table. “Yeah.”
I told him everything I observed that day when Bailey and I went to Jean to talk to Maria, and everything I remembered from my conversation with Deputy Garrett.
“We only got the bare minimum of information for the bail contract, and we had no red flags with her. I didn’t know her, but it seems odd that she took her own life.”
“Yeah, and she happens to be Pedro Vega’s wife? Yeah, something isn’t right. I’ll call the sheriff’s office down there and see if I can scare up Deputy Garrett.” Spitzer pulled out a pad and pen, writing down the deputy’s name.
He glanced at me as he put the pad back in his jacket. “Do not go looking for Dirty Davey Vega, Jagger. Let the police handle this shit. He’s a known killer, but we’ve never caught the fucker. LV Narcotics is trying to get a man inside, but we haven’t had any luck yet. They know when we send in UCs, and the last two we tried came back barely alive. Don’t interfere in my investigation.”
His expression was dead serious, and I didn’t want to get in the middle of things. If I were still with NVHP, I’d sign onto a task force to offer my assistance, but that wasn’t the case. I was a civilian now and had a lot to live for. No way was I getting involved.
Chapter Thirteen
Bailey
I rocked up to the governor’s mansion in my rented Toyota 4Runner. The fucker wasn’t cheap, but I’d decided to cancel my return flight and drive to Vegas with the rest of my shit.
There was a very good reason for me to stay in Vegas—a beautiful blond-haired man who was in desperate need of love and affection, which was my specialty. There was no reason for me to stay in Carson City other than Thomas, and I could see my brother when he came to Vegas on official business. He had a full plate as it stood, and I needed a damn life. Being a private investigator wasn’t what I really wanted to do.
Instead of going to the governor’s office to confront my brother first, I decided the smart thing would be to go to the mansion to talk to Lindsey. She hadn’t reached out to me since we’d had dinner that night when she’d calmly asked me to follow Thomas.
It still didn’t sit well with me that she wasn’t more worried about Thomas rushing out as he had that night. It was almost… Something wasn’t adding up.
I stopped at the gate to be cleared by the protection team monitoring the house. When I pulled up to the mansion, Lieutenant Rupert, the lead on Thomas’s protection team, came down the front steps to greet me. “Master Sergeant Gregory.”
I got out of the SUV and shook his hand. “Retired, LT. I’m retired now, thank heaven. Thomas still at the office?”
“As a matter of fact, he and the First Lady are inside. Did they know you were coming?”
Rupert looked tense, which meant Thomas and Lindsey were likely in a heated discussion. I hadn’t talked to them since I went to Vegas looking for Boyd, so I had no idea what the fuck was going on.
“Think it’s safe to go inside?” I stood next to the SUV, reevaluating why I was there in the first place. Thomas didn’t want my help, but I couldn’t let my baby brother navigate shark-infested waters alone. Whatever he’d done, he needed me.
Rupert laughed. “Better you than me. I’m going to patrol the grounds. Good luck if you dare.”
With that, Rupert took another officer with him, whom I’d never seen before, and they went along each side of the driveway to go to the guard house. There were other security officers on the property and likely one or two in the house, but if Lindsey and Thomas were arguing upstairs, those guys would stay as far away from the yelling as they could.
Hell, I wasn’t a coward. I jogged up the stairs and opened the door, which was never locked since they had about ten armed guards wandering around the place. “Hey! Anyone home?”
“Fuck you, Thomas. Fuck you!” The shouting brought me to a stop. Heels clicked across the hardwood upstairs and a door slammed. That wasn’t good.
I took the stairs two at a time, heading to Thomas’s home office. As I stepped into the doorway, a crystal glass sailed past my head and smashed into the wall next to where I stood. Thankfully, I was able to throw up my right arm to shield my eyes from flying chunks.
“Hello to you too.” I shook my head to release any glass that had settled in my hair, seeing a few shards fall onto the carpet.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, Bailey. I wasn’t expecting you.” Thomas hurried over to me and ruffled his hands in my hair until I pulled away from him and pulled it up in a bun at the back of my head.
“What the hell is going on?” I walked to the leather chairs in front of his desk and sat.
“We, uh, we’re having a party next weekend, and, uh, Lindsey and I can’t agree on—”
“Baaa! Bullshit.” He couldn’t lie to me, the asshole. We were part of the same egg.
Thomas sat next to me before he leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. “Bailey, how did you know I needed you?”
“That screwy twin thing, Tommy. We’ve always known when we need each other. What the fuck is going on?”
