She kissed him. “They couldn’t have hired a better consultant.”
“That’s what I said.” Sean winked. “Call Tia, then we’ll go to the boys’ house. If you need to bail on me, that’s fine—but you’ll have to find some way to make it up to me.” He kissed her. “Like, a full body massage after my long day of hard labor.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, yeah, I would.” He grinned.
Sean went upstairs to change into his grungy clothes while Lucy called Tia.
“Sorry I’m just getting back to you—I just listened to your message,” Lucy said.
“It was Saturday night, hope you and Sean had a night out on the town.”
“Nope, just stayed in, but he cooked.”
“I’d give anything for a man who cooked.”
“You can’t have him.”
“He’s a little young for me. I’m going to be forty at the end of the year. Does he have a single older brother?”
She pictured Kane Rogan, who was an older, leaner, meaner version of Sean. “Yes, he does.”
“I’ll get an intro out of you one of these days. Anyway, I got your message and was surprised I’d never seen the girl before. I know most of the regulars, if not by name then by face. She’s not in the system, at least in Bexar County. I’m widening it to all of Texas, but it’ll take a little more time without a name or prints.”
“SAPD ran all the prints they could get from the motel and nothing popped,” Lucy said. “We’re running them federally, but there’s no criminal. Nothing yet from missing persons.” Lucy sipped her coffee. “You said you had a lead?”
“Maybe. I talked to one of my informants, showed her the picture. She recognized her, said she’s new in town, but doesn’t know anything about her. I have a couple places to check out where she might be. I can do it myself, I don’t want to infringe on your Sunday.”
“I don’t mind.”
“No, seriously—the lead may not pan out. How ’bout this—I’ll check them out, and if I get eyes on her, I’ll call you.”
“Fair enough. I’m doing yard work at the church this afternoon, so I really hope you get eyes on her for more than one reason.”
Tia laughed. “Tell Sean I said hi.” She hung up.
Sean came downstairs. “So, do I have you as my slave all day, or does Tia need you?”
“If you put it that way, maybe I should call her back up and tell her I want to tag along.”
He smiled. “So you’re mine today.”
“Every day.”
*
Adeline Reyes-Worthington took visitors all Sunday at the house. Some were friends and family, others just pretended to be. Everyone had the same thing to say.
“We’re so sorry for your loss.”
“Harper was a wonderful man.”
“We just saw him last week. He seemed so healthy.”
Everyone loved Harper. That affection was the primary reason Adeline had married him. That, and his money. She needed the money to run her campaign. Her father certainly wouldn’t have given it to her. He claimed he didn’t have the five million she needed to win her first election. What had he done while being mayor of San Antonio? He’d helped so many of his friends, why didn’t he help himself? He could have mortgaged his ranch, but of course he wouldn’t do that. He loved his damn horses more than he cared about his daughter’s career.
She needed a break. She told Joseph that she was going to her room to lie down and to make apologies for her. What would she have done without Joseph? He had been a rock for her, as her personal assistant and as a friend. He also ran the house—something Harper thought didn’t need to be done, but once Joseph came on board Harper appreciated him.
Instead of going to her room, Adeline went to her private office, upstairs in the west wing. She liked the sound of that. She didn’t expect to ever be president of the United States—a black man could be elected president, but not a Hispanic woman. She didn’t really care, anyway. She had her own power base right here in the heart of Texas, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
She never brought anyone upstairs to this office, where she worked while at home. The downstairs office with the antiques and view was for guests and meetings; this office was functional with a computer, printer, files, and everything she needed to conduct business—even a separate and secure phone line. She sat at her desk and looked through her schedule. Most events she would have to cancel or reschedule. She cared for Harper, but the timing of his death was poor. She had a lot of pokers in the fire right now, and going through the motions of grief was going to distract her. She supposed if she said that out loud, people would think she was callous, but Harper certainly shouldn’t have been off screwing a prostitute. The information would eventually get out, so she needed to do damage control before it did and make sure that she came out on top.