Page 30 of End Game

As it always did when he recognized a breakthrough, no matter how large or small, blood pumped hotly into his ears. Dropping his focus to the ground, he could see evidence of other footprints in the vegetation. Several, in fact.

The forensic team had also found the spot. He nodded to himself, expecting no less.

A sixth sense, one he never ignored, compelled him to give a slow surveillance around the dogwood. He wasn’t looking for casings, cigarette butts, or the like. If they had been here, which he doubted, they’d already been bagged and hauled off to the lab.

He was looking for something else, though he didn’t know what until he spotted a small round object protruding from a crevice in the bark of a dogwood tree, just above his head.

Stepping back, he took several pictures from different angles with his phone. Then he fished an evidence bag out of his blazer’s pocket, along with a pocket knife. Using the sharp tip of the knife, he eased the object from its resting place and let it fall into the bag.

Lifting his find to eye level, he identified it immediately.

A pearl stud earring.

13

“Anything else,” Kayla asked, her attention touching on each team member seated at the long conference room table.

Their seasoned intern Gemma Niles piped up. “Tommy O’Connor called right before our strategy meeting.” The smooth dark skin on her nose crinkled at the memory.

“Let me guess,” Phin said. “He wants another face-to-face status update.”

Gemma nodded.

Some clients, like Tommy, had an almost obsessive need to know every minute step the firm took on their campaign. Which was their right, but Tommy’s check-ins had morphed from weekly to every other day to every day.

“He’s growing concerned that we’re not going to secure the final three votes needed to pass SB623,” Phin said. “I’ll give him a call.”

Tommy’s nonprofit was supporting legislation that would loosen housing regulations across the state in order to combat the substantial rise in housing costs caused by inadequate inventory. A recent census indicated North Carolina was the third fastest growing state. Many attributed the growth to domestic migration, people leaving their home states for Tar Heel’s more temperate climes and what used to be affordable housing.

“He, uh,” Gemma hedged, “wants to hear from Kayla.”

Phin’s eyes narrowed. “Does he?”

Sometimes clients needed the extra reassurance only the top decision-maker could give. It sucked, for everyone, but part of Kayla’s job was acting as a buffer between her staff and their clients.

“I’d hoped to be in Raleigh today to add some pressure to the holdouts, but—” No sense stating the obvious. Everyone knew why Kayla was still in town. She’d given the team a brief summary of Vicky’s murder, cautioning them to be alert for anyone suspicious hanging around the office building, while also assuring them that the extra measures were likely overkill.

Given that Krowne and Associates occupied the ninth floor of the Robinson building in downtown Asheville, it would be difficult to identify strangers. Most of the businesses who leased space here had done so for a number of years, so they knew, or at least recognized, most of the employees. However, visitors were coming and going all of the time.

“I’ll make some calls later this week.” Not ideal, but Kayla couldn’t leave Asheville, right now.

“Last night, I came across some information that might help sway two of the votes,” Ryan Sorrano said with enthusiasm. He was a recent graduate of UNC and eager to make his mark. “I could head down to the Capitol, present it to Cindy, and assist with rallying the votes.”

Cindy Barry had been with the firm for seven years. The veteran lobbyist would much prefer assistance by way of face-to-face meetings than long-distance phone calls. And Kayla knew Phin wouldn’t make the trip. Not until Ash released him from guard duty.

Even so, she turned to Phin. “Your call.”

He appeared to go through a mental debate before agreeing. “Keep me updated, Ryan.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you, Ryan,” Kayla said. “Let me know if you hear any scuttlebutt on HB821.”

“The Women Entrepreneur Empowerment Act, right?” At her nod, he said, “You got it.”

She looked from Phin to Gemma. “I’ll update Tommy.”

Phin nodded, though he didn’t appear too pleased by her decision.

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