The Soul Catcher - Alex Kava [67]
“That’s quite all right”
He shook both their hands with a brisk but bone-crushing strength, as if making up for his disabled left leg. It had been the result of a car accident, Gwen remembered, not a war injury as the media seemed quick to point out during the last election.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Senator,” Gwen said and immediately saw him flinch, uncomfortable with the rise of emotion her simple condolence seemed to spark.
“Thank you,” he said quietly in a tone that suddenly lacked the control and strength that his greeting had projected.
Other than the dark circles under his eyes, Senator Brier looked impeccable, dressed in an expensive navy suit, crisp white shirt and purple silk tie with an initialed gold tie bar. Hoping to put him back at ease, Gwen noticed four initials—WWJD—instead of the traditional three engraved there.
“That’s a lovely tie bar,” she said. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are the initials?”
He looked down as if needing a reminder. “Oh, no, I don’t mind at all. It was a gift from my assistant. He said it’s supposed to help me make important decisions. I’m not much of a spiritual man, but he is, and well, it was a gift.”
“And the initials?” Gwen insisted, despite Cunningham’s frown of impatience.
“I believe it’s the acronym for What Would Jesus Do.”
“Let’s get started,” Cunningham announced, waving them to their places before there could be any more wasted chitchat.
Gwen took a seat close to the senator and noticed that Maggie walked clear around the table, taking a seat next to Keith Ganza and avoiding the empty one next to Racine. However, in doing so, she now sat directly across from the detective. Racine smiled at her and nodded. Maggie looked away. Gwen had forgotten why Maggie disliked the woman so much. She was certain it had something to do with a previous case they had worked together, but there was something else. Something more. What was it? She studied Racine, trying to remember. The detective was a little younger than Maggie. Maybe in her middle or late twenties, fairly young for a detective.
“Senator, I know I speak for all of us when I say I’m sorry for your loss,” Cunningham said, interrupting Gwen’s thoughts and bringing her back to the group in front of her.
“I appreciate that, Kyle. I know having me here is out of the ordinary. I don’t want to get in the way, but I want to be involved.” He pulled at the cuffs of his shirt and leaned his arms on the table. A nervous gesture of a man trying to keep himself together. “I need to be involved.”
Cunningham nodded, began opening file folders and distributing handouts across the table to each of them. “This is what we know so far.”
Before looking at the papers, Gwen knew this would be a watered-down version of the real story. She would need to wait until later to be filled in on the details, which only made her fidget in her chair. She hated not being prepared and wondered why Cunningham hadn’t scheduled a later meeting with the senator, after the task force had had time to discuss the case. Or didn’t he have a choice? Already Gwen could feel there was something about this case that didn’t fit neatly into any of the regular rules and procedures. She glanced at Cunningham and found herself wondering if he really was in charge of this case.
Gwen flipped through the pages and with only a glance began picking out the ambiguous terms, the safe posts that specified approximate time and cause of death, giving information without giving details. Whatever clearance or special permission Senator Brier may have gotten from Director Mueller himself, Gwen knew he would be spared the real facts. Yes, Cunningham would do his best to dilute the gruesome details, no matter who might be calling the shots. And Gwen didn’t blame him. Senator or not, no father should hear about the frightening and brutal last minutes of his daughter’s life.
“There is one thing I need to ask up front.” The senator stopped riffling through the papers, but did not look up. “Was she…was she raped?”
Gwen watched all the men’s faces,