Theo gave her a nod and headed toward Lewis’s office. His shoes sank into the carpet. Though elegant marble floors spread over the entire first floor, everything above it was carpeted in the lushest carpeting available. York, Hammond & Goldman wanted their clients comfortable. Only the very best was good enough.

He rapped once on Lewis’s door and walked in.

Lewis stood and thrust out his hand. “I thought that meeting was never going to end.”

Theo shook his hand and collapsed into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “You have no idea. I need a drink.”

Lewis crossed the room to the mirrored bar—each of the partners had one in his or her office. There was an even larger one in the main conference room. Lewis claimed a bottle of scotch and two short glasses and strolled over to join Theo. He set his bounty on the table next to Theo and then claimed the other chair.

“A drink is exactly what we need,” Lewis said. “In fact, we have reason to celebrate.”

Unless Abbott had decided to let sleeping dogs lie, Theo couldn’t see how that was possible. “I would love to know how you reached that conclusion.” He laughed. “Outside Abbott having dropped dead, I can’t see surviving this simmering crisis. Every jackass in that meeting is just waiting for an excuse to pull his support. Apparently, I simply don’t have the charm my father wields.”

There were those who didn’t appreciate paying the devil his due. Thompsons had long held the gate key, the final say amid the power in Birmingham. Some wanted change.

“You should be careful what you wish for, Theo.” Lewis sipped his scotch, his gaze never leaving Theo’s.

“What does that mean?” Theo was in no mood for guessing games. He reached for his glass.

“Sometime this morning, Ben Abbott was murdered.”

The glass almost slipped from Theo’s hand. “Are you serious?” He hated the way anticipation soared inside him at the idea. He didn’t want to find relief in the news, but he did nonetheless.

“Oh yes. I am very serious, my old friend. Ben Abbott is dead. Birmingham PD just released the news. They’ve been keeping it under wraps all morning.”

Somehow Theo managed to lift the glass to his mouth. He downed the scotch. Lewis watched intently. He quickly poured him another, and Theo forced himself to sip it more slowly. “What . . .” He cleared his throat. “What does this mean? What about his wife and that mother of hers? The three are like an unholy trinity haunting my every waking moment.”

Lewis knocked back another slug of his drink, then shook his head. “Trust me, it’s over, Theo. That’s all you have to know.”

Theo had other questions, but he was so overcome with relief he couldn’t summon the wherewithal to demand the answers. “This is . . . as demented as it sounds, good news.”

Lewis nodded. “Very good news. I suggest you get accustomed to being addressed as Senator, my friend.”

Theo lifted his glass. “To the future. It suddenly looks far brighter.”

They turned up their glasses.

When the nice warm buzz had relaxed Theo sufficiently, he asked, “Do they know what happened?”

Lewis shook his head. “The investigation will take some time, but I’m guessing that a competitor had him assassinated. It happens when so much is at stake. The technology war is fierce and global.”

“It’s certainly a big scary world out there,” Theo said, as if he actually knew. The truth was, Birmingham had always been home. Sure, he’d traveled, but he’d never lived anywhere else the way Abbott had. In fact, he’d never really had to work for anything until now. The Thompson name and his father’s legacy had guaranteed everything he’d ever wanted—at least until Kyle Hunter had decided to run against him in the Senate race. Kyle had serious backing as well, and he had the support of his mother, Birmingham’s esteemed mayor.

Something else Lewis was working on. Everyone had secrets. Skeletons in their closets. All he had to do was find those of Kyle Hunter and his beloved mother.

“Abbott chose a merciless industry,” Lewis suggested.

Theo grunted his agreement. “And here I thought politics was ruthless.” So far no one had tried to kill him. He shook his head then. “I guess today is my lucky day.”

Too bad a man had to die to make that happen.

5

12:45 p.m.

The Summit

Summit Boulevard

Theo was on her shit list.

Jennifer Whitten’s lips tightened in anger as she strode toward the restaurant. They were supposed to have had lunch together today, but he’d canceled at the last moment.

“Damn you, Theo Thompson.”

Two years. Jen had given him two years. At thirty-eight, she didn’t have that many good years to throw away. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head. If she’d gone to college like she should have or if she’d waited and married a nice man, like a doctor or a lawyer.

If, if, if. If a frog had wings, he wouldn’t bump his ass every time he jumped.

Jen was so damned tired of the rendezvous in out-of-the-way restaurants where they wouldn’t be seen and secret encounters at cheap hotels outside town. Fear trickled through her as she reached the door to the restaurant where Diana waited. The truth was, Jen was terrified that he was lying to her about his marriage. He’d been telling her it was over all this time. Stringing her along for his own pleasure.

Why, why, why did she have to be drawn to men like Theo?

She was so grateful Diana was available for lunch. Jen needed a sounding board before she erupted and did something truly stupid . . . something she couldn’t take back.

Her cell phone chirped, and she paused at the restaurant entrance to dig it from her handbag. If it was Theo texting another apology, she didn’t want to hear it. She glanced at the screen, but it wasn’t Theo. A text from Amelia. Despite the frustration suffocating her, Jen smiled.

Aunt Jen, can you get the balloons for the party next Saturday?

Jen quickly typed back: You can count on me, kiddo!

Diana’s wedding anniversary was the sixteenth. Jen had to come up with a great gift. She tucked the phone back into her bag and hurried through the entrance. She and Diana had been best friends since they were kids. But Diana always said that Jen was not just her friend but her other sister, so she’d insisted her kids call her Aunt Jen. And she was Amelia’s godmother. Sadly, Amelia might just be the closest thing Jen ever had to a child of her own.

Diana waved to her, and Jen smiled, bypassed the line forming at the ma?tre d’ stand, and headed for her table. Thank God her friend had arrived and gotten a table before the main lunch crowd descended.

Jen collapsed into the chair opposite Diana. “I am so glad you could come. I really, really did not want to do lunch alone.”

“I ordered you a glass of chardonnay.” Diana nodded to the waiter who appeared at their table. “And our favorite salads.”

Jen put her hand to her chest. “Bless you.” She smiled at the waiter as he placed a stemmed glass in front of her. Jen grabbed it and took a long swallow. “Mmmm. Thank you. Thank you.” She gazed across the small table at her dearest friend. “Diana Swanner, will you marry me? No one else will ever be as good to me as you are.”

Diana laughed, then sipped her own wine. “I would love to marry you, sweetie, but as you well know, I’m already married, and Robby might have an issue with sharing me that way.”

Jen sighed. “All the good ones are.”

Diana’s smile turned to concern as she placed a hand on Jen’s. “Tell me what’s happened. I thought you had lunch with Theo today?”

Jen rolled her eyes. “He bailed at the last possible minute. I swear, I feel like he’s using me . . . like, like I’m nothing.”

“This is my fault.” Diana shook her head. “You probably wouldn’t have met him if it wasn’t for me.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Since Kerri’s divorce the whole situation has been eating at me.” Diana lowered her hands to the table. “At first it didn’t feel so wrong, this thing with you and Theo. His kids are away at college. His wife has no time for him. But after watching Kerri go through what she did with Nick, I can’t pretend anymore.”

Kerri was Diana’s younger sister and a dear friend too. Jen propped her chin in her hand. “You’re right. We’re terrible people with our nasty secrets and our white lies.”

“That’s not true, Jen. You know that’s not what I mean,” Diana argued. “I’m saying you deserve so much better.” She shook her head. “And whatever his wife is, however uncaring she is, she’s still his wife. He needs to do the right thing. If not, then you should do the right thing for you.”

Jen fiddled with her napkin, unable to meet her friend’s gaze. “He says he’s already spoken to his attorney. He was ready to set the divorce proceedings in motion, but then his father decided to run for governor. Theo had no choice but to run for his Senate seat—at least that’s what he said. He promised he would file for divorce after the election, but . . .” Jen shook her head. “I don’t think it’s going to happen. And to tell you the truth, I’ve heard and seen things in the past couple of weeks that make me wonder if I even know him at all.”