Dangerous. Diana Palmer
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experienced, but I wasn’t.” He gave his brother a quiet appraisal. “You could still charm unicorns. Don’t you think you’re old enough to consider getting married?”
“No woman could live with me. I’m married to my job. And when I’m not at work, I’m married to the ranch.”
“I miss it from time to time,” Kilraven mused. “I guess I’ll forget how to ride a horse eventually.”
“That’s a joke. You’ve got more trophies than I have.”
They were both expert horsemen. In their youth, they participated in rodeo and stood undefeated at bulldogging in southern Oklahoma until they retired from the ring.
“But all this is beside the point,” Jon said. He handed the file to Kilraven. “You’ll have to read it here and you can’t have photocopies.”
“Fair enough.” He started reading. Jon took a phone call. By then, Kilraven had enough information to form an uncomfortable hypothesis.
“Senator Fowler’s protégé, Senator Will Sanders, has a brother, Hank, one of the more dangerous career criminals and a man who has his hands in every illegal operation in the city,” Kilraven murmured as he read. “Two attempted murder charges, both dropped for lack of evidence to convict, and at least one accusation of rape.”
“For which he drew a suspended sentence when the lady recanted.” Jon’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “In fact, his brother, Senator Sanders himself, has a statutory rape charge that was dropped for lack of evidence. He has a taste for virgins, and since a good many women are experienced even by their mid-teens, he’s looking for them younger and younger.”
“Pervert,” Kilraven muttered. “The victim in this case was fourteen. Fourteen years old! He gave her an illegal substance and had her in a guest bedroom in his own house. He even filmed it for the amusement of his friends.” He frowned. “There was a dead teenage girl seven years ago, remember? It was just before Melly …” He cleared his throat. “The girl was found in a similar condition to our murder victim in Jacobsville. I’ve always felt there was a connection, but we were never able to put our finger on one.”
“Just coincidence, probably,” Jon agreed. “They do happen.”
Kilraven tossed the file back onto Jon’s desk with utter disdain. “He filmed himself assaulting a fourteen-year-old. And they couldn’t prove it? There was film!”
“It’s not called film anymore, it’s digital imaging, but I get your meaning. No, they couldn’t prove it. The camcorder was erased in the police property room, by persons unknown, conveniently before arraignment. We can’t accuse anybody, but Senator Sanders has a longtime employee who did hard time for a violent crime. He’s violently protective of both brothers, and he has a cousin who works for SAPD.”
“How convenient. Can we put some pressure on the cop?” Kilraven asked.
Jon gave him a wry look. “We’ve got enough problems. We’re having him watched by internal affairs. That will have to do. Now, to get back to the case involving the living fourteen-year-old, the assistant D.A. in the case was hopping up and down and using language that almost got him arrested in his own office when they told him. That was just after the girl’s parents called and said they were refusing to let her testify.”
“They didn’t want the creep prosecuted?” Kilraven exclaimed.
Jon’s expression was eloquent. “The week after that, the girl’s father was driving a new Jaguar, one of the high ticket sports models, and he paid off all his gambling debts at once.”
Kilraven was quiet. “Those cars run to six figures. The file says the father worked as a midlevel accountant.”
“Exactly.”
“If Melly had been fourteen, and someone had done that to her, I’d have moved heaven and earth to put the man away for life. If I didn’t break his neck first.”
“Same here. Money does talk, in some cases.”
“In a lot of them.” Kilraven was thinking. “The senator’s wife started divorce proceedings a few years ago, and then stopped them and started drinking. Her husband still has lovers and she can’t seem to get away from him. They have a beach house in Nassau where she spends a lot of time.”
“And the senator’s family has a ranch one property over from our own near Lawton,” Jon replied, naming the Oklahoma town where both boys were born.
“Maybe the wife knows something about her brother-in-law that she’d be willing to share,” Kilraven thought out loud.
“Don’t go harassing the senator or his wife,” Jon said firmly. “We’ve finally got something that might give us a clue to our own cold case. Garon Grier has someone working undercover on this, as well. If you put somebody’s back up, we could lose all the ground we’ve gained. Not to mention that we could be facing some real heat from higher up.”
“I’m on leave of absence,” Kilraven pointed out.
“Yes, but you still have a boss who won’t like your involvement in a case that isn’t connected to your present employment.”
“I have a great boss. He’d understand.”
“Sure he would, but he’d still fire you.”
“I’ve been fired before.”
“You’ve been reprimanded, too. Don’t pile up too many demerits, boy scout,” Jon teased. “You’ll get yourself kicked out of any federal work.”
Kilraven sighed and stuck his big hands in his pockets. “I guess I could be a small-town cop in Jacobsville for life if I had to.”
“You’d never manage it. Cash Grier told Marquez that he’s already one step closer to nailing you in a barrel and sending you down the Rio Grande.”
“He’d have to get me in the barrel first and drive me all the way to the Rio Grande. By the time he got there, I’d have extricated myself from the barrel, appropriated his truck and had local authorities arrest him for kidnapping.”
Jon didn’t say anything. He just smiled. He knew his brother well enough to believe it.
“That said, he’s a good man to work for. He goes to the wall for his officers.”
“So does Garon Grier, here.”
Kilraven nodded. “They’re both good men.” He frowned. “Don’t they have two other brothers?”
“Yes. One of them is also in law enforcement.”
“Like the Earp brothers,” Kilraven mused.
“There were five of them. There are only four Grier brothers.” He got up. “We’re still running down leads on the murder victim,” he said. “I’ve got Ms. Perry checking parole files to see if we can find a match there. Maybe the victim was just out of prison and between jobs when he was wasted.”
“If he has a rap sheet, he’ll be easier to identify,” Kilraven agreed. “And if they cheek-swabbed him, which I imagine they did, Alice Jones can use all that high-tech stuff at the forensic lab to discover his identity.”
Jon nodded. “DNA is a blessing in cases like this where the DB is unidentifiable under conventional means.”
“Makes our job easier,” was the bland reply, “but good police work still largely consists of wearing out shoe leather. Speaking of which, I want to have a talk with Marquez. He might have gotten a look at his attackers.”
“We’ve already asked. He didn’t.”
“I want to talk to him anyway.”
“He isn’t back on the job yet. He’ll be at his mother’s house in Jacobsville.”
“Thanks,” Kilraven said drily. “I did know that,