Housing, and Urban Affairs.
Cameron thought back to the redheaded woman she had seen on the paramedics’ gurney. “That wasn’t the senator’s wife in room 1308, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Jack said.
“Who was she?”
“Let’s just say that Senator Hodges was paying to have a lot more than his hardwood floors done last night.”
Nice. “A prostitute?”
“I think women at her level generally prefer to call themselves ‘escorts.’ ”
“How do you know this already?”
“We have the escort service’s records. The senator had been seeing her regularly for almost a year now.”
Cameron got up and paced before the bed, working the scenario like a new case she’d been handed. “So what’s with the camera? Don’t tell me the senator was stupid enough to think he could keep a sex tape secret.” She stopped, thinking quickly. “No . . . of course. Blackmail. That’s why CPD called you guys.”
“Having reviewed the tape, it’s obvious that Senator Hodges had no clue he was being filmed,” Wilkins said.
“You’re the one who got stuck reviewing the tape? Lucky you,” Cameron said.
“Not exactly. But Jack was busy playing bad-cop with Senator Hodges.”
“And here I thought that was special for me.”
Wilkins grinned. “Nah—he likes to break that out with everybody. It usually works, too, with that whole dark and glowering thing he’s got going on.”
Cameron peeked at Jack, who was back at his post in the corner of the room. “Glowering”—she liked that description. It was certainly more insightful than the generic “asshole” she’d been going with for the past three years.
She wondered if Jack Pallas ever smiled.
Then she remembered that she frankly didn’t give a damn whether he did or not.
“Given the content of the tape, Senator Hodges would normally be CPD’s primary suspect,” Jack said to her. “In fact, the police probably would’ve arrested him already, if it wasn’t for you.”
“Is that so?”
Jack pushed away from the wall and stormed over. He yanked the photo out of Cameron’s hands and held it in front of her face.
“Let’s cut through the crap. The guy you saw leave the room five minutes before hotel security found the girl dead—is there any possibility it’s this man?”
Cameron hesitated, momentarily caught off guard by the suddenness with which Jack had gone into attack mode.
He shoved the photo even closer. “Come on, Cameron—is there any possibility it was this man?”
Cameron felt an odd flip in her stomach, hearing Jack say her first name. They’d once, very briefly, been on a first-name basis before. She brushed this off and focused on the photo he held before her. Really, she didn’t even need to look. Senator Hodges was not only a shorter man, but if she had to guess—and apparently she did—she’d say he weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds. She might not have gotten the best look through her peephole, but she knew enough to know one thing.
“It’s not him,” she said.
“You’re sure?” Jack asked.
“I’m sure.”
Jack stepped away from her. “Then Senator Hodges owes you one hell of a thank you. Because your word is the only thing keeping him from being arrested for murder.”
A silence fell over the room. “Doesn’t he have some sort of alibi?” Cameron asked.
Jack remained silent. That clearly fell into the I’m-not-answering-no-stinking-questions category.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Cameron said. “How about if instead of questions, I just see if I can fill in the blanks? So this escort who’s been sleeping with Senator Hodges, the married senior senator from Illinois—”
“Who just happened to be appointed the chairman of the Senate Banking Committee,” Wilkins threw in. When he caught the look of death Jack shot him, he shrugged. “What? I don’t have your issues with her. Besides, I heard what Davis said—we’re supposed to share, remember?”
Much glowering
Cameron thought back to the redheaded woman she had seen on the paramedics’ gurney. “That wasn’t the senator’s wife in room 1308, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t,” Jack said.
“Who was she?”
“Let’s just say that Senator Hodges was paying to have a lot more than his hardwood floors done last night.”
Nice. “A prostitute?”
“I think women at her level generally prefer to call themselves ‘escorts.’ ”
“How do you know this already?”
“We have the escort service’s records. The senator had been seeing her regularly for almost a year now.”
Cameron got up and paced before the bed, working the scenario like a new case she’d been handed. “So what’s with the camera? Don’t tell me the senator was stupid enough to think he could keep a sex tape secret.” She stopped, thinking quickly. “No . . . of course. Blackmail. That’s why CPD called you guys.”
“Having reviewed the tape, it’s obvious that Senator Hodges had no clue he was being filmed,” Wilkins said.
“You’re the one who got stuck reviewing the tape? Lucky you,” Cameron said.
“Not exactly. But Jack was busy playing bad-cop with Senator Hodges.”
“And here I thought that was special for me.”
Wilkins grinned. “Nah—he likes to break that out with everybody. It usually works, too, with that whole dark and glowering thing he’s got going on.”
Cameron peeked at Jack, who was back at his post in the corner of the room. “Glowering”—she liked that description. It was certainly more insightful than the generic “asshole” she’d been going with for the past three years.
She wondered if Jack Pallas ever smiled.
Then she remembered that she frankly didn’t give a damn whether he did or not.
“Given the content of the tape, Senator Hodges would normally be CPD’s primary suspect,” Jack said to her. “In fact, the police probably would’ve arrested him already, if it wasn’t for you.”
“Is that so?”
Jack pushed away from the wall and stormed over. He yanked the photo out of Cameron’s hands and held it in front of her face.
“Let’s cut through the crap. The guy you saw leave the room five minutes before hotel security found the girl dead—is there any possibility it’s this man?”
Cameron hesitated, momentarily caught off guard by the suddenness with which Jack had gone into attack mode.
He shoved the photo even closer. “Come on, Cameron—is there any possibility it was this man?”
Cameron felt an odd flip in her stomach, hearing Jack say her first name. They’d once, very briefly, been on a first-name basis before. She brushed this off and focused on the photo he held before her. Really, she didn’t even need to look. Senator Hodges was not only a shorter man, but if she had to guess—and apparently she did—she’d say he weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds. She might not have gotten the best look through her peephole, but she knew enough to know one thing.
“It’s not him,” she said.
“You’re sure?” Jack asked.
“I’m sure.”
Jack stepped away from her. “Then Senator Hodges owes you one hell of a thank you. Because your word is the only thing keeping him from being arrested for murder.”
A silence fell over the room. “Doesn’t he have some sort of alibi?” Cameron asked.
Jack remained silent. That clearly fell into the I’m-not-answering-no-stinking-questions category.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Cameron said. “How about if instead of questions, I just see if I can fill in the blanks? So this escort who’s been sleeping with Senator Hodges, the married senior senator from Illinois—”
“Who just happened to be appointed the chairman of the Senate Banking Committee,” Wilkins threw in. When he caught the look of death Jack shot him, he shrugged. “What? I don’t have your issues with her. Besides, I heard what Davis said—we’re supposed to share, remember?”
Much glowering
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