Dangerous Refuge

chapter Twenty-seven



Tanner drove toward Carson City while Shaye talked on her cell phone, working her way through underlings until she got one who admitted to having access to Harold Hill, the gubernatorial hopeful. The man who, according to Kimberli and the odds makers in Las Vegas, was very likely to get the office of his dreams.

Make that the stepping-stone on the way to his dreams, Shaye thought.

The idea of a pretty face and empty head in the Oval Office made her wonder how often it had happened in the past. It was an open secret that Hill had his eye on the presidency and plenty of moneyed backers who were just waiting for him to get seasoned in the governor’s office until the next national election.

Thinking about Hill and his hoped-for future made her shake her head, but it was better than the deputy’s words echoing in head.

Stay alive. Stay home.

She could have done without August’s reminder of the two corpses she’d recently seen. Or how much she wanted to live to enjoy one very alive man.

“Yes, I’m still here,” she said into the phone. “Really, you don’t have to bother Mr. Hill. I just need to know who handles the staffing on his security detail.”

“I’m sorry. Nothing about Mr. Hill’s security arrangements is available to the public,” the aide said. “However, Mr. Hill has five minutes between engagements late this morning, if you would like to talk to him personally. He has a keen appreciation of all the good work the Conservancy has done for the state of Nevada.”

She resigned herself to waiting around for a little face time with Harold Hill. “Should my guest and I sign in at the front desk?”

“Yes, please. You’ll receive badges and an escort there. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have several calls waiting.”

“Thanks for your help.” She was talking to herself.

“Any luck?” Tanner asked. “Sounds like Mr. Hill was very busy shaking hands, or shaking down donors.”

“Same difference,” she said, putting her phone back in her jacket pocket. “No one will talk about security, so we have to ask the man himself.”

“I’d have been surprised if the future governor’s security staff was any other way. Frankly, I’m impressed you had the juice to get us in at all. I was going to ask a friend to do some not-quite-legal hacking.”

“Would this be the same one who discovered the coins for you?”

“That was legal.” He glanced in the rearview and side mirrors. No takers yet. “Thanks for getting through to Hill.”

“The National Ranch Conservancy backs candidates who share its views,” she said. “One of them is Harold Hill.”

“Interesting. How does it feel to work for a kingmaker?”

“Kimberli is too busy putting on mascara and attracting donations to have much time left for making kings. But from what she’s said, Hill is one of the Conservancy’s favorite politicians, which makes him a big deal for her.”

“Can’t fire a gun in the desert without hitting an interest group,” Tanner said wryly. “When do we see Hill?”

“Before noon, if we’re lucky. But we have to be there on your best behavior and wait until he has a free moment between meetings.”

“Does that mean no waiting-room sex?”

She gave him a sideways look and bit back a smile. “None. But thinking about it should help pass the time.”

“Thinking about it will make me wish I had a hat to put on my lap.”

She was still smiling when they hit the security at the main door and showed ID. An underling led them to one of the several private offices reserved for people who had appointments to see Hill. The chairs were okay, the coffee was drinkable, and the selection of magazines numbing. The muted TV in one corner didn’t offer relief.

It was almost one o’clock before Hill was available. Shaye had plenty of time to remind Tanner to smile and be pleasant, rather than acting like he was grilling a suspect with white lights and a black attitude.

Mr. Hill strode in with the vigor that was his trademark almost as much as his charismatic smile. He was the best of the past and the promise of a bright future rolled into a sharp gray suit with silver buttons on his cuffs and jacket front. When he looked at someone, they were the only person in his world.

I was too tired to appreciate him at the “memorial,” Tanner realized. He’s good. I’ll bet he can change course to pick up every political breeze and explain any change of direction with a handshake and a smile.

He makes the mayor of L.A. look like a three-legged dog in a greyhound race.

“Shaye, I’m so glad you dropped by,” Hill said. He signaled informality by unbuttoning his suit coat and giving her a warm handshake. “I was just going to ask the Conservancy for advice on building up a policy with regard to keeping ranchers in the valley.”

“I’m sure Kimberli will be happy to help in any way she can,” Shaye said. “This is Tanner Davis, nephew of Lorne Davis. You probably met at the Conservancy gala, but you meet so many thousands of people, I figure it doesn’t hurt to introduce both of you again.”

“Mr. Davis,” Hill said. As he turned toward Tanner, his suit coat opened enough to show two cell phones. One was dark, flashy, and expensive. One was a muddy shade of blue and cheap.

Tanner thought of the sheriff and wondered if the men used the cheap phone when out getting votes from the common man.

“My condolences on your uncle,” Hill said. “He was a good, respected man.”

“Thank you,” Tanner said politely.

An aide tapped on the open door. Hill looked over.

“A moment, Rowan,” he said. “Surely it can wait while I talk to my friends?”

“Yes, sir,” the young woman said as she shut the door.

“Sorry,” Hill said to them. “My staff is told to keep me on time. I have a meeting with one of the president’s economists. We’re going to put our heads together and find an environmentally sound solution for the high unemployment rate that is dogging our state. That’s what’s important—jobs and the environment.”

Tanner nodded, and knew that if Hill had been talking to another interest group, he would insert their cause in the place of the environment. Not sleazy, just political savvy. Everyone wanted to feel important.

Hill and my captain would trip over their own shoes trying to kiss ass first, last, and best, Tanner thought. Wish I could learn the knack.

Or even want to.

“Jobs are important,” Tanner said. “Hard to live without them.”

“A man of intelligence,” Hill approved. “I have many plans for the state, and Refuge in particular, but I need to ensure that the government only promotes and doesn’t interfere too heavily.”

The aide knocked again, lightly, and didn’t open the door.

“Blast,” Hill muttered. “I’m sorry, Shaye, Mr. Davis, but my aide said that you needed some information about security?”

“Are you familiar with a man called Antonio ‘Tony’ Rua?” Shaye asked.

Hill looked blank. “Forgive me, I meet so many people. Rua . . . Rua.” He shook his head.

“He was recently hired in connection with your security,” she said.

“Oh. That explains it. Rhonda handles security staffing. Has there been a problem?”

“Nothing major,” Shaye said. “Could you clear it for us to talk to Rhonda?”

Hill frowned. “This is rather odd.”

“Rua was murdered last night in Meyers,” Tanner said calmly. “The Conservancy would hate to see some eager reporter slime your campaign by connecting the two of you. There would be nothing to it, of course, but headlines are headlines.”

Shaye couldn’t believe what she had just heard. This was Tanner’s idea of being nice?

“What my associate means,” she said, smiling, “is that we’re trying to find out the relationship between you and a member of your security detail. Unfortunately there is evidence to suggest a connection between him and a recent crime.”

Hill smiled. “I have to say, I’d been having a terrible day before this. But this . . .” He struggled not to laugh. “This is rich. Where are your little cameras—you’re recording this, right?”

“Um, no cameras,” she said, trying to think of a tactful way to tell Hill there was no joke, either.

“Where are you from, Mr. Davis?” Hill asked with a snicker.

“Los Angeles.”

“Gotta love that California sense of humor. Not everyone appreciates it, but I enjoy a joke, even at my own expense.”

“Does Rhonda have a sense of humor?” Tanner asked easily. “Or do you do the final security-staff hiring yourself?”

Hill laughed again. “That’s like asking me if I hire the gardeners. I do love the innocence of a citizen when it comes to the complexities of politics. I encourage my staff to hire locally when the skill set and talent allow. After that, it’s up to individual department heads.” He gave Tanner a smile. “If you’re looking for a job, I’ll put you in touch with Rhonda. You certainly look fit enough for security work. I’ll have to warn her about your sense of humor, though.”

Tanner smiled back. “I’d like that. Working for someone with a sense of humor would be a happy change. But that still leaves you with a murdered man on your security staff who is under suspicion of receiving stolen goods.”

Hill frowned at the unwelcome reminder.

Tanner wasn’t surprised. He had a knack for irritating important people.

“I’m sure there’s no real problem,” Shaye said, touching Hill’s arm. “Rhonda will sort it out, if you give her permission.”

After a moment of uneasiness, Hill’s face settled into its usual smile. “Yes, Rhonda. No problem.” He turned his head to the side and called out, “Rowan!”

The aide popped open the door like she’d been praying for the summons. “Yes, sir.”

“Take my guests to see Rhonda.”

“Of course, sir. The representative from—”

“In a few moments,” Hill interrupted her. “I’m expecting a call on my private line. I’ll let you know when I’m available. Shaye, I’m sorry this was so brief. Again, Mr. Davis, my condolences.”

“Please come with me,” the aide said. “Ms. Spears just returned from lunch.”

Shaye envied her. Breakfast was a savory memory.

And Tanner looked good enough to eat.

Again.