Capital Offense

In one fluid motion, he stood before her. “Kate, please.” He placed one hand under her chin, trying to make her look at him. “I don’t want anything like that from you. That’s not why I’m here with you. Please, believe me.”

“Just leave, Jack.” Katherine turned and walked out of the room as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

She wiped at her tears, went to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, then carried it to the living room. Don’t get emotional, she told herself as she sat down on the couch. Be rational.

Katherine bit the side of her mouth to stop the crying. How could she have been such a fool? Twice. Be an adult, just end it. She bit harder, fighting the pain and humiliation that threatened to overcome her.

After dressing. Jack walked into the living room. Katherine huddled on the couch, and clutched a cup of coffee, her hands began to shake, so she set her cup down.

“Kate. I, I… love you.”

She held up her hand. “Don’t even…”

“I would never use you. Please. You’ve got to believe me.” He sat down next to her and grasped her shoulders, trying to turn her toward him, but she jerked free, surged to her feet, and stepped back.

She met his gaze, her own angry and accusing. “Then why didn’t you tell me right away what you were here for? Why did you wait until after we’d slept together?” Her lashes glistened with tears.

“It just happened that way.” He stood and approached her, his voice and eyes pleading. “It wasn’t intentional. Please, believe me. I’m not lying to you.” He caressed her cheek. “I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of your reaction – this reaction.”

She ducked away from his touch. “I don’t buy your excuses, Jack. There were plenty of opportunities to tell me before we made love. What was the plan? Wine me, dine me, a little romance, and then I’d happily succumb to your charms. Maybe even become your inside source?”

“No! Katherine, please…”

“Just go. Please.” She stared at the floor. “I’m not interested in a replay of our sordid past.”

Jack tried to hand his hotel telephone number to her, but she refused to accept it. When she turned away, he placed it on the table next to her and left.

FIFTY-SIX

March 24, 2001 – Jefferson City, Missouri

Jack got into his rented Ford Taurus, and pounded the steeling wheel with his fists.

“Boy, did you blow that one, Rudly.”

Jack shook his head and started the car. He drove in circles for forty-five minutes. When he passed the same convenience store for the fourth time, he stopped to get his bearings.

“Damn it, Rudly, time to get with the program. You can’t fix it with Katherine right now. So, move on.” He needed a plan of action, he thought. He could no longer put off the inevitable. He’d come to Missouri for a reason. As painful as it was, he needed to focus on his father’s death.

Mort Fields had died before he’d ever gotten to interview him, but maybe his staff would have some information on his partnership with Carolyn. It was worth a try, Jack decided as he pulled away from the curb.

Thirty minutes later, Jack parked in front of the Fields. Inc, office and got out of the car. With Mort no longer at the helm, a board of directors kept the company running. Jack walked into the elaborately decorated reception area that appeared to be deserted except for the multitude of fish that occupied a full-wall aquarium.

“Hello.” Jack called.

“Be right with you,” said a voice from the back. Finally, a stout woman, dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt, appeared. She held out her hand as she approached Jack. “Please excuse the mess, but we’re in the process of moving the offices. I’m Rachelle Watkins.”

Jack shook her hand. “Jack Rudly, we’ve met before.”

She smiled at him. “Yes, we have. And I should be angry at you.”

Jack feigned ignorance. “Why? What did I do?”

“Does Sergeant Leonard Rand of the Jefferson City Fire Department ring any bells?”

Jack took a deep breath. This was just his luck. Of course he’d have to run into Mort’s personal assistant, whom he’d tricked by using a false fire claim in order to get Field’s phone number in New York. “I’m sorry, but it was urgent that I speak to Mr. Fields, and you were doing such a good job of screening my calls… anyway, do you forgive me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t think it matters much now.”

He looked around. “Place looks empty.”

“Well, since Mort’s death the company has slowed to a crawl. It’s just not the same without him, even though the board is doing their best. Mort was an incredible force and really kept things hopping. We’re consolidating office space with another business.”

“If you have a minute to talk, I’d really appreciate it. I never did get to speak to Mort.”

“Sure. I don’t know how much I can help, but I’m willing to try,” Rachelle said.

“I understand that Mort and Carolyn Lane were in business together.”

Rachelle looked at him, her smile fading. “You don’t mess around, do you?”

“I’m not into wasting anyone’s time,” Jack replied.