This was the way things should be—me relaxing on the sofa with a novel, and Jay in the kitchen, whipping up his specialty, shrimp spaghetti, for lunch. I wished we could stay like this forever. The only thing that would make this scene complete would be a little Jay running around.
That thought made me lose my smile. That thought was the reason why this whole scene was simply a mirage, because it was just a matter of time before Jay would be gone for good, because my desire for a little Jay had destroyed my relationship with my big Jay.
We had gone to work in separate cars, so we’d left the radio station without saying anything about that last caller. Then, we were so busy with interviews all day, so by the time we got home, neither of us addressed it, instead falling into this natural rhythm.
I turned my attention back to my novel. It was a new one, called Sister Surrogate, about a woman who was desperate to have a child. I had been enjoying the book, but when I thought about my current situation, I decided now maybe wasn’t the time to dive into that subject matter, so I moved it to my to-be-read file and stood to go see if Jay needed help.
The television was on mute when I noticed a picture of Senator Bell. I picked up the remote and turned the volume up.
I watched for a few seconds, then called for Jay.
“Jay, come here. Hurry!”
“What’s wrong?” he said, racing into the living room.
“Look.” I pointed to the TV. Once again, a breaking-news banner was flashing across the screen.
“This just in,” the anchor began. “United States Senator Bradley Bell has been taken into custody in connection with the death of Vincent Murray, a local resident with an extensive criminal record who was found dead last night.”
“Dead?” Jay said, his mouth dropping open. “Vincent is dead?”
“Shhhh,” I said.
“Reporter Stephanie Jameson is in the field with the latest.” The anchor tossed to a reporter in the field. “Stephanie, why would police think the senator is connected to the death of Murray? And does this have anything to do with the allegations that surfaced yesterday morning about the senator and land deals in New Orleans?”
“Rick, this story is unfolding by the minute,” Stephanie began, her voice urgent, like she was on the cusp of a major story.
If only you knew, I thought.
“In fact, we are in front of the police department, where authorities are expected to bring the senator in any minute. Apparently, Murray was trying to blackmail the senator over those reported land deals in New Orleans. But just moments ago,” the woman said, “we were handed this envelope.” She held up a manila envelope. “Inside was a zip drive containing video of the entire transaction in which Murray allegedly met the senator to collect his blackmail money. A private investigator working a totally unrelated case for a woman trying to catch her cheating husband captured this video.”
My mouth fell open as I watched Senator Bell and Sammy, his bodyguard, approach Vincent in the back of what looked like an apartment building. There was no sound, but the image was clear as day. Vincent stood face-to-face with the senator. Sammy walked over with a duffel bag, and handed it to Vincent, who opened it up and looked inside. The private investigator must have known something illicit was going on, because he zoomed in to get a shot of what appeared to be wads of money in the duffel bag. A huge smile crossed Vincent’s face as he closed the bag, reached in his pocket, pulled out something, and handed it to the senator.
“I bet he’s giving him a copy of the jump drive,” I said. “And here we thought we had the only copies.”
The video jumped to a gray Nissan Sentra and the reporter continued talking. “The private investigator followed Murray, who got into this car a few blocks over. That car was being driven by an unidentified woman.”
Both Jay and I gasped as the video zoomed in to a side view of Keri.
“Police say another vehicle registered to the senator’s office followed Murray back to his apartment. A few minutes later, a neighbor found Murray dead with a gunshot wound to the head.”
“Where is the young lady who was driving the car?” the anchor asked.
Stephanie shrugged. “That’s the million-dollar question, Rick. She has disappeared, along with the money. Police don’t believe she’s behind the shooting of Vincent Murray, because a witness saw her drop Murray off, then leave. But again, they are searching for the woman to question her about last night’s events. They’re asking anyone with any information to give them a call. In the meantime, police say they believe they are on the cusp of an even larger investigation. Of course we’ll keep you updated.” She tossed back to the anchors in the studio, who began banter about the story.
Jay picked up the remote and flipped the television off.
“I don’t know what to be more shocked about, the fact that the senator has been arrested or the fact that Keri was working with Vincent all along,” I said.
“Why would she even tell us about him, though?” Jay asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe she planned to take all the money all along and she knew that if she led us to Vincent, we’d be able to confirm that he was the blackmailer and tell the police.
“And when the dust cleared, the police would think only Vincent and the senator were involved,” I finished. “And though we could tell them about Keri, by that point she would be long gone with the money.”
I had to hand it to the girl—I would’ve never given her credit for being so conniving.
“Well, if the senator is behind bars, at least this means we’re safe. Even if he gets out, which I suspect he will, he knows we’re not involved,” Jay said.
“I’m not so sure,” I said. The more I thought about this, the more I felt like this wouldn’t truly be over until I knew if Keri had been behind everything the whole time.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, there are still a lot of unanswered questions, like why would Keri sell out Vincent? Did she decide to just pick up where Vonda left off? And how do we know the senator doesn’t still think we’re working with Keri?”
Jay slapped his forehead. “Oh, good grief, I just want this to be over.”
“Yeah, me too,” I replied. “But it’s not. And it won’t be until we track Keri down and find out what kind of game she’s playing.”
“If the police can’t find her, what makes you think we can?” Jay asked.
I smiled. “Well, Mr. Lovejoy, I think we’ve proven we’re some superb sleuths.”
Jay laughed. “You got that right. Who would’ve ever thought that?”
“The police don’t even know who Keri is, so they wouldn’t even know where to start looking for her.”
He smiled. “And we do?”
I nodded. “Looks like we need to go pay another visit to our dear friend Mrs. Walker.”