Red After Dark (Blackwood Security #13) - Elise Noble Page 0,20

best choice for an audience made up of mainly blue-collar workers. The five-thousand-seat arena was full of red shirts for Biggs, blue shirts for O’Shaughnessy, and a particularly vocal contingent of yellow-clad supporters for Kyla. Thank goodness I’d worn black. I’d also worn a brown wig, which was itching, and a pair of plastic-framed glasses that could have been borrowed from Clark Kent.

“This is San Pellegrino,” Kyla hissed at someone offstage. “I said Evian.”

A young blonde dashed forward. An intern? “Ms. Devane, I’m so sorry.”

“Just get rid of it. The Italians are not our friends right now.”

Was she referring to the Italian ambassador trashing her plans for an import tax on Parmesan cheese and prosciutto? And if so, did she realise where her shoes came from?

I spotted Aidan O’Shaughnessy in the wings, sitting on a plastic chair with a laptop balanced on his knees, jacket off and tie loosened. Still tweaking his speech? Tsk tsk tsk. Surely he should have come prepared?

Actually… My phone pinged, and I almost choked on my popcorn. Black had tasked Nate with keeping me updated on Devane-related developments, and it seemed that Harriet had taken my earlier words to heart and backed O’Shaughnessy. I showed the news article to Alaric.

“Whoa. I thought she was gonna hedge her bets?”

“All or nothing, Prince.”

And in that case, I’d forgive O’Shaughnessy for the last-minute adjustments. Perhaps he wanted to add something about cross-party support. A small smile played across his lips. Yeah, he’d seen the news.

Biggs, on the other hand, looked tense. He’d claimed the space at the other side of the stage, and every so often, I caught sight of him as he paced. Was that his wife with him? She seemed more concerned with keeping out of his way than with offering support.

The moderator appeared, microphone in hand, and Kyla smoothed the curtain of sleek mahogany hair that hung just past her shoulders. The front had been artfully twisted away from her face and pinned to the side. She’d gone with a navy-blue pantsuit today, which might have come across as conservative without the cleavage-baring top underneath. And was that necklace a real sapphire?

Tap tap tap. Sound check. The two men filed onto the stage and took their places either side of Kyla. Out of the three of them, she looked the most self-assured. Biggs had to be on the back foot after the twin snubs from Harriet and her father.

“Welcome, folks. It’s great to see you here at the Jincheng Arena”—yes, Kentucky’s newest venue was sponsored by a Chinese beer brand—“for what promises to be a historic debate. With the polls for the senatorial election balanced on a knife-edge, this is your chance to hear from our three candidates. We’ll let each of them introduce themselves, and then we’ll challenge them with questions on the issues y’all want to hear about. Kyla Devane, would you like to start?”

“Thanks, Marty.” Kyla gestured towards the audience. “And thank you for coming today. It’s wonderful to see so many friends from the place I call home.” Cue rabid cheering from the yellow section. “So, why am I here on stage today? Well, there’s nothing I love more than my state, my country, and the people who make it great. When I’m elected senator, I’ll make real changes to the lives of Kentuckians. My background isn’t in politics. I’m not a pencil pusher. Let’s do away with all the red tape that stifles business and remove the wasted layers of bureaucracy. Mr. O’Shaughnessy wants to tighten up regulations, and Mr. Biggs… Well, he’s a lawyer. What can I say?”

Laughter answered her question, and she carried on, flipping and flopping from point to point, ad-libbing from a speech somebody else obviously wrote. She wanted to increase police numbers but cut costs. Improve medical care yet do away with the rules governing health insurance. Give families more money in their pockets yet abolish the minimum wage. Did she give any specifics on how she might achieve these objectives? No, but she did throw some barbs at her opponents. Biggs’s father-in-law was a crook, apparently, and O’Shaughnessy once punched a man in a college bar brawl, which clearly meant he was a violent thug. Good grief. Didn’t everyone get into bar brawls? Oh. Just me? Okay then. Anyhow, Kyla was nasty. Even Biggs looked uncomfortable when she laid into O’Shaughnessy.

I tuned out during Biggs’s spiel. Man, I hated politics. Even when I’d been screwing around with James, I’d avoided listening to his speeches.