Dreaming Death (Krewe of Hunters #32) - Heather Graham Page 0,49
departments in the country. Where are you?”
“We just saw Congressman Smith; we were approached by one of his staff. We’re going to talk to her, then we’ll be right in,” Keenan said. “You’ve seen the video from the surveillance camera, right? Can you see the victim?”
“Yes, the victim. But you’ll see. You can’t get a license plate—it’s covered with dirt. And you never see the man’s face. But if they can tighten it and clean it up some... I don’t know. We’ll be at headquarters when you get there.”
“Thanks,” Keenan said. “I’ll call the medical examiner’s office on my way in. For details on the victim from the basement.”
“Fingerprints and dental impressions will have been taken by now. Even DNA, though I don’t know how long that might take, and unless she’s in the system—”
“I know. There will probably be nothing. I still think we’ll get an ID. This guy chose one of the most notorious madams in history—he wasn’t trying to find victims with identities we’d never discover.”
A woman was handing Keenan a tray with their order; he ended the call, telling Fred that they’d see him soon. As he took the tray, he looked to the door. He was hoping that the young blonde woman hadn’t changed her mind.
Keenan went to the table, setting down the food and filling Stacey in on the phone conversation he’d had with Fred.
She didn’t ask what sandwiches he’d chosen; she just took the one closest to her and ate while she listened.
Then she cleared her throat, indicating the door.
The nervous blonde was coming. She walked to the counter and Keenan rose to meet her, asking her in an easy tone what he could get her. She laughed and said, “Decaf. I’m already a wreck.”
“Stacey is over there. You can join her. Do you want anything else? Food?”
She shook her head and glanced at the door, as if making sure that she hadn’t been followed. Then she noticed Stacey behind the pillar at the little table. She smiled at him, appreciating the chosen site, and hurried over to join Stacey.
He went back to the counter for decaf.
When he reached the table, she was already talking earnestly with Stacey. The blonde had evidently introduced herself, and Stacey seemed to have already eased her somewhat into conversation.
“The thing is—I don’t think that he...Congressman Smith killed Billie Bingham. But he’s lying when he says he doesn’t know her or didn’t see her. I know because I was coming into his office one day when he didn’t know I was there and he kept talking. He was telling someone that Billie was a...a bitch and that something had to be done about her.”
Stacey looked over at Keenan. “Keenan, this is Peggy Bronsen. She’s an assistant with Congressman Smith’s office.”
“Peggy, thank you for speaking with us,” Keenan said. “I know that you’re nervous. Do you have any idea who he might have been speaking with?”
She shook her head, biting her lip before she spoke again. “I backed out of the room. I didn’t think that... Well, of course, it was before she was found...even before the body in Lafayette had been found. But I didn’t want him to know that I was there because... I don’t know. There was something in the way he was speaking. I mean, he’s the kind of politician who wants to be known for being forthright and upright and honest and all. But those of us who are on his staff... I wanted to quit.” She hesitated again. “He’s a narcissist. Yes, he wants to be liked, and he wants to project the image that he’s sweet and charming and firm but thoughtful, but...he barks at everyone. And the way he is with women is unnerving. Some girls just fall for him, and if things go wrong, he calls them liars. He’s always touching people as if he’s sampling them. Creepy! Every day, I’ve been afraid that he might see something in me. And now, the way all those women have been killed...”
“We understand,” Stacey said. “If you’re worried about your safety, can you send in your resignation?”
“He could find me!” Peggy said tearfully. “I’m not rich. I’m just an assistant. I was a graphic-design major, and I can come up with ads and slogans and create art for his different campaigns. I don’t have a savings account to fall back on. I have to survive, and with what’s been going on...”