TailSpin - Catherine Coulter [64]
“We’re here about Jimmy’s death.”
Her eyes turned colder, if possible, and her mouth seamed as she said in her very precise voice, “What about his unfortunate death?”
“He didn’t just die, he was murdered.”
“That is absolute nonsense. Senator Abbott’s death was a tragic accident. It was ruled an accident by the police.”
“Greg Nichols, his senior staffer, knew it wasn’t an accident.”
“Everyone spoke to Greg Nichols. He was shocked and saddened by the tragedy. He believed it an accident, as well.
“It has nothing to do with you, Ms. Janes—yes, I will call you that until I have proof you have told me the truth. Brady Cullifer would have called both Quincy and me if you had been legally adopted; he would have warned us. But he did not.”
“Perhaps,” Rachael said, “Mr. Cullifer didn’t call you because he considered it a confidential matter.”
“There are no confidences in a family, Ms. Janes. However, regardless of any legalities, I will never recognize you as an Abbott. I want you to get out of here. I never want to look at your face after today. You managed to bilk my brother out of his money and his property, that wonderful house in Chevy Chase where we all grew up. It’s in your hands, a stranger’s hands. Bastard or not, you have won. Get out of here before I call security.”
Rachael said easily, “I brought security with me, Mrs. Kostas. Don’t you remember? This is Special Agent Jackson Crowne, with the FBI.”
Laurel put out her hand. Short buffed nails, clear polish, but the thumbnails were chewed to the quick. Jack handed her his shield, watched her study it for an aeon before handing it back. “So,” she said, “this pathetic girl managed to talk the FBI into revisiting this national tragedy. Has she accused us of murdering Senator Abbott?”
“Actually, ma’am, we have a lot of questions, not only about Senator Abbott’s death.”
“You won’t for much longer,” Laurel said, reaching for her phone, and she turned her back to them. Jack hoped she wasn’t calling her lawyer. He really didn’t want to have to deal with that.
Jack had faced down monsters during his years in the FBI’s Elite Crime Unit, and remembered every single one of them with utter clarity, but in this woman’s presence, listening to her low, clipped voice, he felt a sort of black coldness in her.
He purposefully turned away and led Rachael to the huge window that looked toward the Inner Harbor, lined with tourists, the blue water of the harbor dotted with pleasure craft, ferries, and fishing boats. It looked intensely alive, very different from this frozen world so high above it. He was losing it.
He said, “I know a little restaurant right on the Inner Harbor where I’d like to take you for dinner.”
Rachael nodded.
Jack couldn’t wait to get away from this cold, driven woman. It was very likely she wouldn’t talk to them. Had she held the family’s reputation so dear, had she believed her brother’s confession to the world would not only destroy her brother but cause irreparable damage to the family and to the Abbott holdings so much that she murdered her own brother? He couldn’t imagine it himself, it was too over the top.
They heard Laurel Kostas hang up the phone, and turned.
By the look on her face, she hadn’t gotten what she wanted. Jack was tempted to applaud, but he didn’t. He watched her face smooth out, and he knew to his gut that when this woman managed that slick-as-glass expression, she was in full control again.
She radiated power and malice.
“I spoke to my lawyer. He said he would call your superiors, who would deal with you, Agent Crowne. You will leave now. I will not speak to you.”
Rachael said, “But Mrs. Kostas,