Edge of the Heat 3 (17 page)

At 4 in the morning he had called Hawk with what Lionel had found. He didn’t want to wake Hawk at that hour, but time was of the essence. Craig was about to sneak off and grab 4 or 5 hours of sleep and by the time he woke up he needed whatever Hawk had been able to drum up via legal channels. Hawk was on top of it as usual and had emailed him a ton of stuff.

Craig’s phone buzzed, yanking him back to reality. Richard Carr, Western Regional Director of the FBI. Craig said a little prayer and answered. “Hello Sir.”

“Masterson, I’ve just finished with the DEA. Kinkaid won’t have any more trouble with Donahue. His accounts are clear. And Donahue’s going to take permanent unpaid vacation, starting yesterday. Now you tell Kinkaid to get his ass back to work!”

“Yes sir,” Craig smiled, hoping that vacation was somewhere gray and dark and full of clanging bars, little rooms, and bad food. When he had more time (when Oberlin and Foster were behind bars) he would check in to see exactly what the DEA did to officers who were on the take.

The phone clicked in his ear. He grabbed his throwaway out of his pocket and called Hawk.

“’Lo?” Hawk answered, sounding relaxed and happy. Craig wondered if he already knew.

“Hey buddy, Carr says get your ass back to work. He took care of the DEA.”

Hawk didn’t reply, but Craig thought he heard Hawk whispering to Vivian with the phone covered.

Craig tried again. “You can come home man! Come home tonight! We’ll be at the Senator’s mansion by the time you get here but we’ll come see you when it’s over.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great.” Hawk said into the phone, but he didn’t sound as happy as Craig thought he would. He sounded almost, disappointed?
Well maybe he’s just tired. I did wake him at 4 in the morning
, Craig thought.

“Ok, see you in a few hours.” Craig hung up, happy, but exhausted. Dealing with the brass always made him feel worn out like a used-up sponge. He climbed into his truck, wondering if tonight was going to be fun, or a total bore. He had no idea what politicians did at parties. He bet himself that it would be a snoozer and they’d never even get to talk to Oberlin.

Later, he would have time to think about that bet and desperately wish it had been true.

E
mma twirled in front of her only full-length mirror, unable to believe her transformation. She felt like Cinderella in this incredible gown. The color was an exquisite fuchsia with a halter top and a straight, flowing skirt under a diamond-sparkled silver belt. The gown dropped to the floor, but the very front came up to her knees, opening in a V and revealing a lovely cream color on the inside back of the skirt. The shoes matched the belt, also diamond-sparkled and silver. Vivian had bought it for her and had it sent to the house. Emma took one look and knew it was too elegant for her, but when she got it on, it took her breath away.
How much had this thing cost
?

Now to figure something out with her hair and makeup. She wished suddenly Vivian had sent her a stylist too. She sent Craig a quick text  -
Where are you?
and then watched a youtube video on how to do an updo. She found one called
Easier than it Looks Updo
and gave it a go, elated when she managed it and her hair actually looked pretty. She wished someone were around to high-five, but Craig still wasn’t home. Good thing men didn’t take much primping. Makeup. She didn’t want to press her luck so she just did her normal eyebrows, eyelashes, and a bit of eyeliner, plus a red lipstick. She never did red lipstick and thought it made her look like a clown but Vivian had specifically said she should wear red lipstick, so she did. She was more concerned about looking out of place at this
gala
or whatever it was than looking like a clown right now.

She heard Craig’s truck pull in the driveway and ran out of the bathroom to meet him, holding up her skirt so she wouldn’t fall over it. He opened the door, and saw her, his eyes going wide. Her scolding
we’re going to be late!
died on her lips when she saw his face.

“What?” she said, taking a step backwards.

“Nothing. Just. You look amazing.” He stepped forward and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to him.

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t look like a clown?”

“You look like a princess,” he told her, bending and kissing her neck softly.

Emma shivered deliciously at his words and his kisses, relaxing into his arms.

A honk startled them both. She pushed the drapes open. “The limousine!”

“Uh oh, I guess we’re late. What am I wearing?”

“Here. Vivian rented you a tux.” Emma pushed a package into Craig’s hands and pushed him towards the bathroom.

She ran into the bedroom to grab her only clutch and saw her gun, in it’s holster, on the bed. She couldn’t wear it tonight, that was for sure. But she’d be with Craig so she’d be fine.

She ran out again, then stopped herself and took a deep breath. She was going to break her ankle if she kept trying to run in these heels. A knock sounded at the door.
Damn
.

She forced herself to walk to the door and tried not to feel too guilty for making the limo driver wait. A young man waited on her steps, dressed in a dark suit. He even had the limo driver hat, she noticed, smiling inwardly. “Sorry, we’re late, we’ll be out in a second,” she told him, then closed the door and headed to the bathroom to see if Craig needed help.

Finally in the limo, Emma relaxed against the leather seat and took another deep breath, trying to chase away her nervousness. She knew it was useless though. There was too much to be nervous about! She was headed to a mansion, for the first time in her life. She was going to meet her father, for the first time in her life. And she was going to some sort of a fancy, black tie event, for the first time in her life. She scooted closer to Craig. Boy did he look scrumptious in that tux. All of a sudden, she couldn’t wait to get him home and get that tux off of him. She snuggled into him and her nervousness abated a little at the thought.

“So are you going to tell Oberlin?” Craig asked her.

“I’m not sure. I guess I’ll just wait and see how it plays out. For all I know I’ll never even get a chance to talk to him.”

Craig nodded. “That’s what I was thinking too. We have no idea what this is going to be like.”

“I should have asked Vivian.” Emma mused.

“Yeah. Too late now! Let’s just try to have fun, no matter what.”

Emma nodded, “Good idea.”

The evening darkened into twilight, and the limo wound them just outside of town into a subdivision that Emma didn’t even know existed. Craig seemed very interested also and they both watched out the window, admiring the large, stately homes they were passing.

“Wow,” Emma breathed, as they drove past a well-lit up, palatial home towering over a wrought-iron fence.

Craig took her hand and ran his thumb across her palm, perhaps reminding her that money could buy a house like this, but that didn’t mean it bought the people inside happiness.

The big car pulled into the last drive on the road, and they both craned their necks to catch a full glimpse of their home for the evening. What Emma wanted was to get all of her ooohing and ahhhing out before she got out of the car. She was supposed to be Vivian, and Vivian probably grew up in a house just as gorgeous.

The driveway was circular, and lined with limousines already. The house itself was red brick, three stories, covered with ivy, and looked squat, elegant, and timeless. Emma wondered how many people it took to clean something this big.

Their limo pulled up to the front and the driver ran around to open the door for Emma, who was already climbing out.

“I’ll be waiting out here for you until you are done,” he told them.

Craig took Emma’s hand and led her into the mansion. At the door, they were stopped by security. Emma’s breath caught in her throat. Was she going to be discovered as a fraud already? Thrown out? Her cheeks flushed red. But the two security officer just waved her through a metal detector at the door.

Emma waited nervously for Craig on the other side, wondering what would happen when his gun tripped the detector. But it didn’t. He came through clean.

She asked him with her eyes how he managed that. He grasped her arm and whispered into her ear, “I didn’t bring it. I knew there would be security.”

A man arrived in front of them, one Emma could only describe as a butler, looking exactly like they do in the movies. He asked them for their invite. Emma handed it over. He nodded slightly and said “Miss Dashell, right this way please.” Now that Emma wasn’t terrified they were about to get thrown out, she looked around curiously. Just the foyer was gorgeous enough to blow her away. She took in the chandeliers and tiled floors, plus ornate fireplaces and elaborate rugs, and the bright pink-lined-with-gold runner heading up the marble stairs. Everywhere she looked screamed wealth, money, opulence. She had nothing to compare it to, but she wondered if all Senators had houses this ... grand. She’d been curious so she’d done some research into what United States Senators make and it was only about $175,000 a year. Certainly more than enough to live comfortably, but not near enough to afford this kind of luxury.

She made a mental note to ask Craig where his money came from when she got a chance. For now, she just concentrated on not tripping over her own two feet. A small voice in the back of her head told her
he’s your dad, this should be your money too
. She pushed it away. Not only did she not want any part of this money, she didn’t even want to acknowledge that he was her dad. If she had her way, she would have just forgotten they ever found out about it. But she didn’t have it her way. There was too much at stake for people she cared about.

The butler led them down a long hallway to a dining room that easily matched the rest of the house. There were already people sitting and chatting, and Emma saw with relief that all the men were wearing tuxedos and all the women were wearing gowns as fancy or fancier then hers. She blew out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding and sat in the chair the butler was holding out for her.

Emma looked around, wondering who would be in the empty seat to her left. Her heart still beat madly in her chest, feeding her nervousness. One part of her wished Vivian had been available to come to this dinner, but another part felt excited, not scared, and was thrilled she was here.

She took a drink of her water and glanced at Craig. His mouth was open slightly as he looked about the room. She giggled to herself, glad she wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by all of this.

The seats started to fill swiftly now, and Emma found herself next to a young, gorgeous woman of about 22 she didn’t recognize, but across the table from her sat Sandra Delano, an older, very well-known soap opera star. Emma wasn’t star struck, but it did give her a new appreciation of the people who might be at this dinner. Up until now, Emma had imagined mostly stuffy old men, quite like the Senator himself. She noticed Craig was also extremely interested in everyone else at the table.
He is probably mentally checking off which ones are criminals though
, she thought, covering a smile with her napkin.

Several waiters of both genders brought out drinks and bread and fruit trays. Emma asked only for more water, and Craig ordered a coke. The first course was served,  artichoke canapes, she was told. What it looked like was a little cracker with some goop on it. Emma tried it and it was ok. Not her favorite. She looked around and didn’t see the Senator.

“Where is he?” she whispered to Craig.

“I don’t know. There’s still some empty seats at the far end so maybe he’s coming,” he whispered back.

The courses kept filing out and by the time they got to the 4th course, the Senator swooped into the dining area, at the far end of the table. Emma couldn’t see him very well. He got right down to business and picked up a microphone that was waiting for them.

“Friends, thank you all for coming tonight.”

Everyone clapped, including Emma and Craig. Standing at the head of the table, wearing a perfect, black tuxedo and holding up his hands to quiet the applause, he looked very presidential. Emma was impressed, in spite of herself.

“I know that every person here is fully aware just how important this evening is.” He paused for effect and looked over the people at the table. Emma felt his eyes lock with hers, and then slide on to the next person. The contact chilled her. She glanced at Craig. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, his face full of jagged angles and his eyes like steel. She touched his shoulder, hoping to soften him a bit. This had all happened so fast she never got a chance to ask him if he’d be OK. Well, she knew he’d have to see the Senator sometime.

“The road to the presidency is long, hard, and full of opposition!” The Senator’s voice rose, and Emma could tell he was just getting started.

“But I have the strength, the foresight, the character, and the tools to win.” Now his voice got soft, and he again met everyone’s eyes at the table. “All I need is support. Your support. You, who are smart enough to pick the right candidate. You, who are brave enough to stand tall over the opposition. You, who are strong enough to give what you have to give. You, who are the hardest working people in the country and have the rewards to prove it. Without your support, I will go nowhere. I know this. I will remember this always.”

The Senator pulled himself up even straighter and yelled into the microphone, startling Emma. “I will stomp out every opponent; victory will be ours!”

One person at the back of the table applauded and then everyone started. There were even whistles and catcalls. The man seated next to the Senator got up and slapped him on the back. Emma looked around and clapped half-heartedly. Craig however, sat motionless, his eyes boring holes into the Senator. Emma noticed one of the security guards who had checked them at the door was now standing, hands folded, near the wall, watching Craig closely. She slipped her hand under the table and pinched his knee, then clapped heartily. He got the hint, wiped his face, and did his best to emulate the crowd.