Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
“You probably should have called me for better ammunition, but it’s done now, and we’re both stuck with the outcome.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “You don’t like him.”
“You should have figured that out during the campaign and used it and the fact that you didn’t tells me you or your campaign are not the sharpest tool in the shed. My mother used to say that.”
“Your mother was quite special.”
“And kind,” I say. “I’m not. When did you leave the mansion?”
“Discreetly, three days ago.”
“Why? You weren’t expected out of the mansion immediately.”
“Your father was pressuring me to move in early.”
“How very arrogant and presumptive of him,” I comment.
“The polls gave him reason to be.” He scrubs his jaw. “I could list out my accomplishments and on paper this loss makes no sense. I was well liked. I achieved what I promised I’d achieve.”
“But my mother beat you, not him. Must be anger-inducing.”
His eyes go wide. “No. No. No. I did not plot vengeance against your father.”
“You clearly know what’s going on. How?”
“Your father couldn’t wait to call me and accuse me of nefarious acts. He wouldn’t say what on the phone.”
Thank you for that, father, I think.
Mackey holds his hands out, still talking at this point. “And so here I am. The minute I walked in the door he called me a coward and a killer. If it wasn’t for your man out there, we could have come to blows. And he would have gotten his ass beat.”
Doubtful, my father is the ex-sheriff. Mackey is just a rich guy with political hobbies.
“Are you done?” I ask.
“For now.” He sucks his cheeks in as if to shut himself up.
I don’t bother giving him answers he doesn’t deserve. I move on to my investigation. “Was the internet working when you left?”
His brow dips. “What? I mean yes, but what?”
I ignore the question. “Where did you move?”
“I just bought a house in Texas. I’m sitting on the board of a major real estate development firm there.”
“Leaving the state,” I comment. “That’s interesting.”
“That’s survival. Who wants to stay around as the loser.”
He has a point. That’s part of why I left New York myself. “Have you spoken to the press?”
“No. Hell no. This is the last thing I need in my life right now.”
“Were you getting threats of any type?”
“I’m the governor. I get them daily.”
“I need everything you’ve received for three months and quickly. And you’re not to talk to the press. As for near future expectations outside of your documented threats, I’m going to need you at the morgue tomorrow at ten to try to identify the body. I’m also going to need our team to question your staff.”
“That’s a lot of people.”
“We’re a lot of people. Put them on notice. No one leaves town. No one talks to the press. The killer likes the press. It’s not in their best interest to share that trait.”
“I’ll handle it,” he confirms.
“Good. And I need files for anyone you pardoned or refused to pardon for six months along with any outside staff you used on a regular basis, especially related to maintaining the mansion. Security staff as well.”
His lips press into a tight line. “I’m not leaving New York anytime soon, am I?”
“We’ll work rapidly. If we can clear you, we will and let you go free. Is there anything you can think of that I need to know?”
“I don’t need your father talking to the press and turning the attention off himself onto me.”
“Right now, what you both need to know is that if I step in front of a mic and hold a press conference, I could bury one or both of you. Keep your mouth shut or I won’t. Where are you staying?”
“I have an apartment here in the city I never let go of.”
“Okay. You can go, but stay close to your phone.” With that, I rotate and walk away, steeling myself for another one of my father’s tantrums but pause just before I exit the room with a question, turning back to Money Mackey. “Do you know who financed the mansion?”
“Some private equity group. I don’t know anything about them. It was an anonymous donation.”
Pocher, I think. “I need those records as well.”
He gives a nod and I rotate, leaving him to fend for himself, while my mind races with what I’ve just learned. Why would Pocher want to build a mansion worthy of a king? We’re dealing with politicians and that means he’s pulling the old this for that strategy. I step outside the den, shut Mackey inside and while I doubt this property issue is related to the murder I still text Tic Tac: Look up the investors who funded the governor’s mansion as well as the contractors who worked the job.
Without an identification of the victim we’re chasing our tails trying to catch a killer who might not be as amateur as I first thought, not when he’s forcing us to work harder to know nothing.