Page 65 of Power Games

"Nathaniel." The man was leaning against a wall, looking just as stressed as him. "You're okay?"

"Not exactly, no. You don't want to hear about it, trust me. More importantly, I have news. I got a contact to obtain photographs of the bullet. It's a prototype. We're talking high precision, high impact. Expensive and rare. Tracing it will take some work, but that changes the direction of the investigation. We're not looking at a crime of passion, Charles. That bullet says professional hit. The knife wounds were probably just left to make it look messier."

A professional hit. It made no sense. Who would pay to have Izzy killed? They'd assumed it had been a lover until now.

"I don't get it."

"Murder isn't my area of expertise, but when I have a crime, I always ask myself who would benefit."

He gave it some thought. There were two distinct lists. The people who should have benefitted, and those who had.

List one included his shareholders, and the candidates who'd run for president in a few months.

List two had two names on it. His and Vanessa's.

26

Whispers

Vanessa left in the morning. They’d worked faster than planned, she said. Everyone was in their corner now, and staying longer might actually end up being counterproductive, as she wasn’t of use after the funeral.

He wanted to protest.

He didn’t.

“What about the house?” he asked her over the phone as her driver took her to the airport.

“You pick,” she said. “You know what I think. The White House view is all well and good now, but in a few years, you might get sick of it.”

“What about you?” he pushed.

She snorted and he could practically see her smile. “How do you think I know that? I’m already sick of it.”

It made no sense,coming from a woman who was doing her best to return to the White House.

She confused him sometimes.

“So, you prefer the place in McLean, then?”

“I do," she admitted tentatively. Vanessa had been careful not to voice a strong opinion on the matter, leaving the final decision up to him. "That said, I’m easy, as long as I can have a music room.”

"I'm good with McLean. I'll make an offer."

Charles' taxi stopped in front of the Jacobs Enterprises headquarters. He paid the man and got out while staying on the line, although he didn't have anything else to say.

Nothing else he was willing to tell Vanessa now. There were words always at the edge of his mind, on the tip of his tongue. Words he'd keep to himself. He couldn't afford to give her more power over him.

Yet he found himself saying something dangerously close. "I think I'll miss having you around."

She chuckled somewhat nervously. "We barely saw each other over the last month, Charles."

"Maybe. But you were here."

A phone call, an email away. Seamlessly organizing the mess that was his life.

"Hey, if you need me, you call. I mean, what's a plane ride these days? I'm going to slow down my schedule, anyway. Marina was negotiating concert venues and events for 2020. I'll get her to put those on hold, prepare my exit."

Her exit.

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