Christmas Cover-up

Rue poured the last of the batter into the pan. “Are you going to tell me about the ballistics?”

“The gun used to kill Bob Lindahl was the same weapon that killed my father.”

She dropped the spatula and whirled around to face him. “The same gun?”

“A Colt.45 automatic.”

No wonder Cody had been tense. He would be forced to confront his father’s death as part of the ongoing investigation. She wished for a way to comfort him but knew it would be impossible to console him for his loss. “How does Bob Lindahl’s murder connect with your father’s?”

“I assume it has something to do with events that happened twenty years ago.”

“Lindahl was a cop back then.”

“So was Danny.”

The hostile edge in Cody’s voice disturbed her. “Surely you don’t think Danny was involved in your father’s murder?”

“They were both investigating the gangs. My father and Danny worked together. They knew each other.”

“So?” His insinuations were beginning to tick her off.

“The same weapon that killed my father was used on Lindahl this afternoon at a party for Danny’s supporters. Obviously Danny is involved.”

“With a murder? Danny’s no saint, but there’s no way he’d ever have anything to do with murder.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Well, don’t. Don’t even think it.”

She glanced back toward the skillet where her last crepe was burning. There was no way to repair that burnt mess. Yanking the skillet off the stove, she scraped the charred remains into the sink.

Cody’s suspicion of Danny grated on her nerves. Throughout Danny’s mayoral campaign, she’d put up with a lot of innuendo, but that was from journalists looking for dirt. Somebody like Cody ought to know better.

Nonetheless, she shouldn’t have snapped at him. He’d had shocking news, wasn’t himself. He was upset. But so was she, damn it.

Quickly, she assembled the rest of the ingredients for crepes stuffed with creamed tuna, cheese and vegetables. She’d intended to add an over-easy egg on the side, but her hands were shaking. This was too much stress for one day.

While she set the plates on the glass-topped table in the dining area, Cody refreshed their drinks.

He sat beside her, and they each took a taste. The crepes were okay but not a recipe that would go into her keeper file.

“Not bad,” he said.

“I didn’t have much to work with.”

Less than half an hour ago, she’d kissed him. But that sensual warmth was as chilled as gazpacho. She didn’t want to be here. “It might be best if I book myself into a motel tonight.”

He glanced up sharply. “I want you to stay.”

“I’d rather not impose. You have a lot to think about. The police investigation is going to rake up a lot of memories.”

“I welcome the investigation. I want my father’s murderer caught. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I should go.”

“Stay.” He reached over and placed his hand atop hers. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

His touch surprised her, and she pulled her hand away. His friendliness felt phony. Why did he want her here? What was he after?

“You’ve had a hell of a day, Rue. What kind of man would I be if I threw you out in the cold?”

An honest one. There was no particular reason he should care about her well-being. “I can take care of myself.”

He turned on a smile that was as fake as a plastic ficus. “Stay here and get a good night’s sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

She seriously doubted that.

AFTER RUE had gone to bed, Cody went into his home office, leaving the door partially open. If Rue tried to sneak out in the middle of the night, he wanted to be able to hear. At the very least, he was responsible for her safety.

His plan for using her to get closer to Danny was a fiasco. He’d made the mistake of insulting Danny, and loyalty to her former stepfather ran deep. Without hesitation, she’d defended Danny’s reputation for being a good guy, a former cop with a sterling reputation.

Cody knew better. Nobody was shiny pure. Everybody made mistakes, took shortcuts that bordered on illegal, followed their personal interests. Everybody had secrets in their past, even the newly elected mayor of Denver.

How could Rue blindly defend him? She was smarter than that. Quick-witted and funny, her mind worked in a relatively logical pattern in spite of the unexpected twists. Like when she’d kissed him.

He sank into the chair behind his desk. That kiss had been one hell of a surprise. He hadn’t intended for this relationship to turn sexual. Even a great white shark had enough scruples to know it was wrong to seduce a woman for information. He’d only wanted to be friends with Rue, to get close enough to infiltrate Danny’s inner circle.

Instead, his thoughts ranged over her luscious little body, imagining the texture of her skin and the feel of her long, silky hair. Unlike many of the women he dated, Rue wasn’t the type who could handle a casual fling. She’d expect more from him, more than he could deliver. Hell, it might be best to say a polite goodbye and forget he’d ever met her.

On the desktop in front of him was a square cardboard box—his Lucky Ted file. Inside were folders with legal documents, copies of his father’s death certificate and insurance papers, reports from a private detective, mementos and photographs. He took out a scrapbook he’d started shortly after his father was murdered.

On the beat-up cover was a faded picture of the Rockies, a reminder of camping trips on the Platte River. The pages were filled with Cody’s own handwriting—a twelve-year-old’s scrawl and newspaper clippings.

The year was 1987. Ronald Reagan was President. The hit movie was Fatal Attraction. Michael Jackson was singing “Bad.” Local news focused on Colorado Senator Gary Hart who’d been shot down in his run for the presidency when he’d been caught with his pants down. The New Age community was mobilizing for the harmonic convergence in Chaco Canyon. And Lucky Ted Berringer was shot dead in a Denver warehouse.

Though Cody knew all this information by heart, he scanned the clippings, looking for mentions of Danny Mason.

At the time of his murder, his father had been focusing on an investigation of gang violence and drug dealing which had led to allegations of local cops taking bribes to look the other way on crime. Lucky Ted had gotten a tip from a suspect in a drive-by shooting and was on his way to meet with this informant when he was murdered. A week later, the snitch also turned up dead. It was assumed that both murders were gang-related. Arrests were made, but no one was ever charged.

As he scanned the articles, the name of one of the gang leaders popped out: Jackson Samuels. The father of Jerome Samuels? Rue had mentioned Jerome’s juvenile-delinquent background. How old was Jerome at the time of Lucky Ted’s murder?

Cody turned on his computer and searched the Internet for a quick bio on Jerome. He was fourteen in 1987, old enough to pull a trigger. His juvenile record was sealed but there were ways of accessing that information. Jerome had gone to the University of Colorado in Boulder on a baseball scholarship and graduated with a degree in political science. After that he’d worked on some political campaigns and spent a couple of years as a lobbyist. Then he became Danny’s right-hand man.

Was Jerome Samuels the person who had sent him the campaign bumper sticker for Danny and the shamrock tiepin? If so, why? Jerome wouldn’t want to implicate Danny who was about to become mayor and, very likely, appoint Jerome to a high position.

Cody stared at the computer screen. He should have made the connection to Jerome on his own, but it had taken Rue to point it out. She knew the family secrets, and he couldn’t let her go until she’d told him everything.

Returning to the past, Cody flipped through old newspaper articles. Danny Mason had been mentioned in the cop scandal, as had Bob Lindahl. And a dozen other Denver cops. In the Internal Affairs investigation, both were cleared of suspicion.