Falco looked up from his cell. Kerri suspected he’d already googled the event to see if there was anything in the news about the disagreement between the two men. He prompted, “Mr. Thompson believes your boss bullied the owners into selling the property.”

The woman’s cheeks darkened. “He did say something to that effect, but the statement is entirely inaccurate. Mr. Abbott wanted the property, and he simply approached the owner and offered a price he couldn’t refuse. There was absolutely no pressure or intimidation.”

“You mean, like ten times its current value?” Falco turned the screen of his cell toward Kerri and mouthed the word wow. “He has a habit of doing that, doesn’t he?”

“Is there a law against paying more than a property is worth?” Gibbons demanded, obviously taken aback. “Mr. Abbott would never do anything illegal. As far as Mr. Thompson’s reaction to his plans, the man is being completely unreasonable. If he and his wife felt some sentimental attachment to the property, why did they sell it in the first place? I’m certain the true issue lies with the wife.”

“Ms. Gibbons,” Kerri said, softening her voice, “we’re not here about the exchange you described or the purchase of any property. If there has been any sort of legal step taken against Mr. Abbott, we’re unaware.”

Her concern mounting, Gibbons looked from Kerri to Falco and back. “I don’t understand.”

“Did Mr. Abbott have any early appointments this morning?” Kerri asked. “Or maybe something last evening? Outside the office, I mean.” Once she gave the woman the news, logical answers might be difficult to garner.

Gibbons shook her head. “His final meeting of the day was at six last evening. A conference call with the San Francisco office. He was supposed to be in at nine this morning, but he hasn’t made it yet. I’ve called, but there’s no answer.” Her eyes widened. “Is everything all right? Mrs. Abbott is expecting and—”

“Does he do this often?” Kerri asked, drawing her attention back to the more pressing questions. “Come in late or do some business or personal errand before coming to the office without letting you know?”

She stared at Kerri, uncertainty creeping into her gaze. “No. Never. He’s completely anal about punctuality and staying on top of things. He always keeps me informed.” Her face furrowed with confusion. “What’s this about?”

“Ms. Gibbons, I’m sorry to tell you this, but early this morning Ben Abbott was murdered in his home, as was his mother-in-law. His wife, Sela, is missing.”

Shock claimed the other woman’s face before she burst into tears.

Kerri gave her a moment to gather her composure before going on. “We need several things this morning. First, a list of any ongoing issues Mr. Abbott or his wife might have been dealing with, professional or otherwise. The names of any staff members who had access to their home or who might have had more than a business relationship with them.”

“A clear picture,” Falco chimed in, “of your own relationship with Mr. Abbott.”

Gibbon’s face froze; then her jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“I cannot stress enough,” Kerri pressed, “how important it is that we know everything there is to know about this family. The smallest thing could help us find the person who did this horrible thing.”

Gibbons managed a tight nod. “Whatever you need. But I don’t see how this is possible.”

“What do you mean?” Kerri asked.

“How could this happen? Mr. Abbott has no enemies. Everyone loves him.”

Maybe, Kerri kept to herself. Except for the person who put a bullet in his head.

4

12:00 p.m.

York, Hammond & Goldman Law Firm

North Twentieth Street

The oldest and most prestigious law firm in the state. Theo Thompson stood outside the historic limestone building, the names engraved there and what they represented failing for the first time to give him comfort. How would he ever survive the shit storm that was coming? He’d spent the entire morning in meetings with his most influential supporters. They were all grumbling that his numbers weren’t hitting the gold standard his father had set decades ago. His numbers were rising, damn it. But not fast enough to make those vultures happy. What was worse, he had this Abbott business to deal with. The bastard had threatened to go public. He hadn’t come right out and said as much, but he’d repeatedly insinuated that he had proof of his allegations.

The part that terrified Theo the most was the idea that Abbott might just be telling the truth.

As if that in and of itself wasn’t enough, his wife was warning that she intended to be done with him if Theo lost his run for his father’s Senate seat. She wanted to be First Lady of the state one day, and he had better not screw up her chance. He closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he have ever loved that heartless bitch?

A weariness gushed out of him on a breath. He hadn’t ever really loved her. Their marriage had basically been arranged when they were in high school. It was expected that the only Thompson heir would marry the older of the two Baldwin girls.

Here they were twenty-five years later, and Theo at times pondered if the price he’d paid had been worth it.

Not once in his life had he felt this helpless. His chest was ready to explode. But, like everything else in his life, he had no choice. Her family’s support was as imperative to furthering his career as the other supporters with whom he’d met this morning. If he didn’t work out this situation with Abbott, all would be lost. He would have failed, dropped the ball on the family legacy.

He couldn’t allow that to happen.

Collecting his resolve, he pushed through the gold entry doors and crossed the marble-floored lobby. The receptionist looked up and smiled. She was young and beautiful, of course. York, Hammond & Goldman didn’t employ ugly people. Only the most talented and the most beautiful.

“Mr. York is expecting you,” she said.

Theo gave her a nod and headed for the bank of elevators on the far side of the lobby. He pressed the call button and waited. The briefcase in his hand felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, when it weighed ten at best.

He was so damned tired of every single thing going wrong. How had he become that person? The one who made the same poor personal choices his father had? He’d intended not to be that man. His father would say the key to those choices was in not getting caught. Bastard. Things were different now than they were forty years ago. With social media and the utter ruthlessness of reporters, hiding secrets was nearly impossible.

The probability that he was completely screwed was strong.

The shiny gold doors that reflected his weary desperation slid apart, and he stepped into the richly paneled car and pressed the number eight. He leaned against the wall and waited for the upward whoosh. He looked like hell. Bags under his eyes. Even his color was too pale. He needed that time away at the beach he’d promised Jen.

Just one more promise he had no idea how he would make happen.

Another sigh slipped past his lips. Frankly, Jen was another complication he didn’t need. He enjoyed being with her, and the truth was, she kept him sane to some degree. But he could never leave his wife for her—at least not as long as he had a choice in the matter. But his mistress didn’t understand. She wanted more. He’d indulged himself too long with her, and now he would have a hell of a time setting her aside.

Everything was going to hell.

Above all else, he needed this Abbott situation to go away.

Despite the Thompson name, his supporters would start pulling out if Theo didn’t get that jump in the polls they wanted. That would not happen if Abbott went public. In fact, there was a strong possibility that Theo could lose far more than this election if the bastard made good on his threats. Theo was counting on his friend Lewis York, a brilliant and cutthroat attorney, to help him ensure that did not happen. More importantly, if Lewis got this situation under control, Theo’s father would never have to know that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.

The thought twisted in Theo’s belly.

He did not want to be like his father. The things Theo knew about the man made him sick. But he could never tell anyone. He could only wait for him to die and hope no one ever exposed that ugly little secret.

Lewis had sent Theo a text to come straight to his office as soon as he was out of his meeting. He hoped like hell there was good news.

He needed good news.

If Lewis had good news, it would be worth the fury Jen had unleashed when he’d canceled their lunch plans. For his private pleasure, there were those he could pay without the pressure of expectations. But no one like Jennifer Whitten.

The story of his life. He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Thompson,” the eighth-floor receptionist said as he stepped out of the elevator.