“R&R have an entire file on Clancy, culled from research and the sheriff’s notes.” Jax thumbed in his code, called up his cloud account, while reciting from memory. “Clancy grew up in Savannah and Charleston, wealthy family, private schools. He had connections even before he started university.”
“I don’t suppose any of those files indicate a wife, a significant other, anything? I knew he wasn’t married but just considered it as one less motive to kill him.”
Jax scrolled through the files, looking for early days, when a man was most likely to marry. “Huh, look at this. He and Gus Swenson went to the same private high school. Clancy followed him to Georgia State. Neither of them is exactly Harvard material. They joined the same country club later. Clancy nailed Swenson’s family as one of his first clients when they were both starting out.”
“Clancy didn’t want to marrySwenson.” Evie snatched the phone from him. “Doesn’t Senator Swenson have a sister?”
“Two, plus a brother. The fish magnate and his Hollywood wife were productive. The offspring mostly live off fish profits. And occasionally help their brother’s campaigning.” Jax took the phone back and found the Swenson file. “Sisters are married to an oil exec and an Arabian prince, which amounts to the same thing as an oil exec.”
“A prince!” Evie crowed. “Clancy didn’t stand a chance if royalty was their goal.”
Jax took a moment to process all the steps Evie skipped. “You think Clancy may have wanted to marry one of Swenson’s sisters?”
“It makes sense. He hung out with them. They were rich. Greed was Clancy’s lifeblood. Look.” She pointed at Clancy’s bio on the phone. “His parents were nobodies—plebian lawyers, nouveau riche with only local connections. Clancy wasn’t inheriting billions or a dynasty. But his aura is heavily doused in greed and ambition. You have to figure a man like that thought he could marry billions—and become governor. He said‘I was good enough to kill for them but not to marry them.’He apparentlykilledsomeone for those dreams.”
“Assuming any of this high-flying fancy is true, Clancy lived on theeastcoast.” Jax simply put the fact out there. Clancy was of an age with Ives, Jackson, and Pendleton. If Evie was trying to connect Clancy to murder—Pendleton and Jackson had been killed on the west coast. Only, if any of this had any reality and related to Swenson and voting machines—
Jax’s parents had died on the east coast.
Evie hugged him and buried her face in his shoulder. “Can you find out what Clancy was driving the day your parents died? And if maybe he got rid of it shortly after?”
“Circumstantial.” But a big hole opened in his gut. If Franklin Jackson had been killed over those voting machine contracts thirty years ago... Then ten years later, Jax’s father set out to stop the company a second time... His father was a careful driver. Jax had always suspected foul play, but he’d related it to his father learning of Stockton’s fraud.
Clancy as a killer was probably just Evie looking to tie up a neat package, but it fit.
“We may never know,” she agreed sadly. “But Clancy’s spirit is enraged and lingering because someone promised him that he would be governor and that someone was a woman. Is there any way of talking to Swenson’s sisters?”
“Or his wife or his mother,” Jax added gloomily. “I don’t move in those circles. I don’t think Troy can bring them in for questioning on the basis of a ghost’s confession.”
“Or a cat’s vision. What islargeto a cat? Are any of Swenson’s women large?”
Jax found a photo file and scrolled through. “Good Scandinavian blond. They’re not petite. The senator’s sisters are in their fifties now, so they’ve got some heft to them. Gus’s wife is younger and must work out. She could have tossed Clancy as well as the cat. Grandma—well, she’s in her eighties, isn’t she? You’ve seen her on TV. She might be large, but I think they keep her under lock and key.”
Evie took the phone and studied the images. “I need to see their auras. Second guessing a cat and a ghost is impossible. Your battery is almost fried.” She handed the phone back. The images were gone.
“I just charged it up.” He glared at the blank screen. “Even without auras, you’ve given us a path to explore that we didn’t have before. One puzzle piece at a time.”
And he would damned well start fitting the pieces together if it meant determining if his parents had been killed overvoting machines.He was finally getting a sense of who his dad had been. After reading all the correspondence, he was fairly certain Aaron Ives, the lawyer, engineer, and miner, hadn’t been a duplicitous crook or killer but a man trying to do what was right, even if it cost him a fortune.
Did any of this matter while he held Evie in his arms? Her head was on his shoulder, and she wasn’t running away for a change. A little life affirmation was required. Jax bent his head and warmed her mouth with his.
She responded with gratifying alacrity.
Evie was pure energy, like the spirits she claimed to see. She poured her soul into her kisses. And then she was kneeling over his lap, and he filled his hands with that insane red tank top and her beautiful breasts. Heaven existed right here on earth.
He tugged the top free and unsnapped her bra. He had one hand on bare skin when she froze.
Heaven descended to hell in an instant. Even his prick knew to shut down once he heard what had registered in his subconscious while his brain was in his pants.
Someone was unlocking the hall door.
Stealing one last kiss and squeeze, Jax set Evie on the floor so she could adjust her clothing and he could stand. He debated weapons, but he had the element of surprise and experience on his side. He’d leave the Glock hidden. He left Evie digging through her tote, presumably for whatever she considered defense. He hoped she knew how to keep pepper spray out of his eyes.
He’d left his private office door open. He leaned against the wall beside it so he could watch the front door in the reception area. There was just enough twilight through the large front windows to see. He held up his hand to Evie, who approached with her keys between her fingers and a can of something dangling from the ring. They might have different perspectives, as she claimed, but when it came to the basics, they were on the same page.
His landlord, Geoff Hayes, stepped in as if he owned the place, which he did. Jax vowed to replace the door lock with one that had a security alert. He’d made certain the rental contract allowed it. But Hayes had the right to inspect his property if there was any chance of damage—like from an electrical outage.
He watched Hayes cross the reception area to the anteroom where Jax had stored Norton’s ancient files, the ones he meant to shred. Once the intruder disappeared into the file room, Jax gestured for Evie to stay and crept out to a better viewpoint.