Read Online The Betrayed (Krewe of Hunters) by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Graham
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should have been a speech and some hand-shaking. But...”
His voice faded, but then he suddenly stared at Aidan, eyes narrowing. “Aidan Mahoney.”
“Yes.”
“Your name was on one of his lists. You were going to be invited to a dinner. You...knew Richard?” he asked.
“Yes,” Aidan said. “Thank you for your help. We’ll be in touch.”
Taylor Branch closed the door.
Aiden turned to see Lee Van Camp studying him. “You knew Richard well, didn’t you?” he asked.
Aidan nodded. “I hadn’t seen him in a while. I watched his career, though, with pleasure. He was always a good kid. A good guy.”
He waited for one of them to ask if he should be on the case.
Neither did.
“Let’s start our interviews with Jilli,” Aidan said.
They walked down the hall to her room and tapped on the door. It opened almost immediately.
Jilli was definitely affected by what had happened. Like Branch, it looked as though she’d taken a shower. Aidan wondered if it was a subliminal way to attempt to wash away the shock and horror of Richard’s death.
“You’re back,” she said, looking at Van Camp. “Do you know anything? Have you found out who did this? My God, I still can’t believe it!”
She had a glass in her hand, half full of some amber liquid—Scotch, he figured, or bourbon. Aidan had a feeling she’d already knocked back a few. Her eyes were red and swollen. She’d obviously been crying and crying hard for a long time. Even as she looked at them, a trickle of tears started down her cheeks.
Van Camp introduced Aidan. “So we’ve got locals and Feds,” she murmured. “Well, we may need magic police in on this one, because it was, like,
poof!
Richard just...disappeared.”
“Tell me about your day—and the last time you saw Richard,” Aidan said.
She didn’t offer them anything to drink and didn’t suggest they sit. Her room wasn’t small, although it was a junior suite. Nothing like Branch’s. But she had a desk, sofa, coffee table and small kitchenette.
Voorhaven leaned against the wall. Van Camp didn’t wait for an invitation; he walked across the room and took a seat on the sofa.
Jilli turned, her fingers curled around her drink, and sat on the bed.
“It was a good day. A good travel day that became a good campaign day,” Jilli said.
“Why was he campaigning up here?” Voorhaven asked. “He was a mayoral candidate in the city.”
Jilli smiled. “This is the Hudson Valley! It’s beautiful and it’s about two hours out of the city. People come here for respite. New York City residents buy property up here—time-shares, little cottages, condos—you name it. It’s an escape zone. Richard was from this area and he loved it.”
Yes, he had. He’d loved roaming the forests. His parents might have moved to Florida, but he still felt a strong connection to the place. He’d loved a campfire at night and all the haunted happenings that went on around Halloween. He’d loved Washington Irving and tales of the Revolution and the hardy Dutch settlers who had first farmed the land.
“Okay, so you arrived here with your security detail.”
She nodded, studying her glass. “Richard was good about his security, knew he needed it for practical reasons. But he truly loved people. It wasn’t fake or part of the game with him. He’d shake hands or talk with anyone who wanted a word with him. So, we’d seen people at lunch, and when we came here we were high on the enthusiasm he received. We were in the convention center. There were cops everywhere, plus the center itself had its own security, and we had Muscles, Mischief and Magic. They were just checking the scanners—metal scanners, you know—when Richard disappeared. At first, we thought he’d wandered somewhere to practice his speech. Or gone outside for a breath of fresh air. But...I’m telling you, it was as if he disappeared into thin air.”
“You were testing the audio when that happened?”
“Yes. If they get a
His voice faded, but then he suddenly stared at Aidan, eyes narrowing. “Aidan Mahoney.”
“Yes.”
“Your name was on one of his lists. You were going to be invited to a dinner. You...knew Richard?” he asked.
“Yes,” Aidan said. “Thank you for your help. We’ll be in touch.”
Taylor Branch closed the door.
Aiden turned to see Lee Van Camp studying him. “You knew Richard well, didn’t you?” he asked.
Aidan nodded. “I hadn’t seen him in a while. I watched his career, though, with pleasure. He was always a good kid. A good guy.”
He waited for one of them to ask if he should be on the case.
Neither did.
“Let’s start our interviews with Jilli,” Aidan said.
They walked down the hall to her room and tapped on the door. It opened almost immediately.
Jilli was definitely affected by what had happened. Like Branch, it looked as though she’d taken a shower. Aidan wondered if it was a subliminal way to attempt to wash away the shock and horror of Richard’s death.
“You’re back,” she said, looking at Van Camp. “Do you know anything? Have you found out who did this? My God, I still can’t believe it!”
She had a glass in her hand, half full of some amber liquid—Scotch, he figured, or bourbon. Aidan had a feeling she’d already knocked back a few. Her eyes were red and swollen. She’d obviously been crying and crying hard for a long time. Even as she looked at them, a trickle of tears started down her cheeks.
Van Camp introduced Aidan. “So we’ve got locals and Feds,” she murmured. “Well, we may need magic police in on this one, because it was, like,
poof!
Richard just...disappeared.”
“Tell me about your day—and the last time you saw Richard,” Aidan said.
She didn’t offer them anything to drink and didn’t suggest they sit. Her room wasn’t small, although it was a junior suite. Nothing like Branch’s. But she had a desk, sofa, coffee table and small kitchenette.
Voorhaven leaned against the wall. Van Camp didn’t wait for an invitation; he walked across the room and took a seat on the sofa.
Jilli turned, her fingers curled around her drink, and sat on the bed.
“It was a good day. A good travel day that became a good campaign day,” Jilli said.
“Why was he campaigning up here?” Voorhaven asked. “He was a mayoral candidate in the city.”
Jilli smiled. “This is the Hudson Valley! It’s beautiful and it’s about two hours out of the city. People come here for respite. New York City residents buy property up here—time-shares, little cottages, condos—you name it. It’s an escape zone. Richard was from this area and he loved it.”
Yes, he had. He’d loved roaming the forests. His parents might have moved to Florida, but he still felt a strong connection to the place. He’d loved a campfire at night and all the haunted happenings that went on around Halloween. He’d loved Washington Irving and tales of the Revolution and the hardy Dutch settlers who had first farmed the land.
“Okay, so you arrived here with your security detail.”
She nodded, studying her glass. “Richard was good about his security, knew he needed it for practical reasons. But he truly loved people. It wasn’t fake or part of the game with him. He’d shake hands or talk with anyone who wanted a word with him. So, we’d seen people at lunch, and when we came here we were high on the enthusiasm he received. We were in the convention center. There were cops everywhere, plus the center itself had its own security, and we had Muscles, Mischief and Magic. They were just checking the scanners—metal scanners, you know—when Richard disappeared. At first, we thought he’d wandered somewhere to practice his speech. Or gone outside for a breath of fresh air. But...I’m telling you, it was as if he disappeared into thin air.”
“You were testing the audio when that happened?”
“Yes. If they get a
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