Colby Velocity

Castille stood before the row of marble sinks admiring his thick head of gray hair in the mirror. Apparently satisfied, he reached to adjust his silk jacket. As the door whooshed closed behind Kendra his gaze collided with hers in the mirror.

“Afternoon, Senator.” Kendra closed in on his position, her head held high, her shoulders square.

He stilled. Fury flared in his eyes. “You.”

That he didn’t immediately go for the call button on the belt at his waist surprised her. Security would have descended upon the men’s room in ten seconds or less. And she would be spending hours under federal interrogation.

“It’s been a while,” she commented as she leaned one hip against the cool marble about three feet from where he stood. Crowding him wasn’t the goal.

He cut her a look that warned exactly how he still felt about her. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re making a very serious error in judgment. This is stalking.”

“Yoni was my friend.” That his primary worry was her presence infuriated Kendra. “I want to know what happened to him.”

“His murder,” Castille said in a matter-of-fact tone, “had nothing to do with his work.” His attention shifted back to the mirror as he straightened his purple tie yet again. “You should have checked your facts before you bothered to make an appearance.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” she suggested while he openly admired the fit of his charcoal suit.

He faced her, the lack of compassion in his expression fueling her fury. “The official conclusion at this point is that the homicide that occurred early this morning had nothing to do with Sayar’s political position. Preliminary results of the homicide investigation will be released tomorrow morning. You, like the rest of the world, can catch it on your preferred news channel.”

“He came to me with concerns,” she countered. Let him offer an explanation for that. “I’m here to follow up on those concerns.”

Castille puffed. “Yoni was losing his edge. Confidence in his ability was on a downward trend. Surely you haven’t forgotten how it works in this town. There are two kinds of folks.”

The bastard took the time to wash his hands before continuing. Kendra’s fury rushed unimpeded toward the boiling point.

Castille selected a meticulously rolled hand towel from the basket on the counter and dried his hands then settled his condescending gaze upon her once more. “Those who rise to the mountaintop and those who tumble over the edge of the cliff. Yoni was stumbling. He was on his way down. There was nothing I could do to help him.”

“Because of the Transparency Bill?”

The brief glimmer of surprise in those cold eyes sent triumph rocketing into her chest. He knew Kendra well enough to understand that if she knew that, she knew much more.

“The bill is brilliant,” Castille confessed. “But the weight of taking such a stand helped to push our friend off that ledge, Kendra. The pressure under these kinds of circumstances is immeasurable. Yoni buckled under that tremendous weight.”

The senator shrugged. “There is no mystery here. Tomorrow’s press conference will set the record straight for any conspiracy theorists. Such as yourself,” he accused.

“I’ll make my own determination as to whether there’s a mystery or not,” she challenged, not put off one bit by his condescension. She wasn’t going anywhere until she had the whole truth.

“Then consider yourself on notice.” Castille tossed the hand towel aside. “If you attempt to connect Yoni’s troubles to me or my office, you will be profoundly sorry you made the mistake of coming back.”

He walked past her.

“Consider yourself on notice, Senator.” She turned, surprised that he’d hesitated at the door, his back to her. “I’m not afraid of you or your position. If the facts lead back to you, that’s where I’ll go. And if