He expected Adams to rage at him for his disrespect, but the other man just set his mouth in a hard line. “Mr. Stone and AMI’s campaign donations are public record. This office has nothing to apologize for. What more do you want? I sent Hannah’s schedule to a detective with the SPD early this morning. This is a horrible business and I should be left alone. I want a chance to mourn.”
Lie. Reece only barely kept his reaction from showing on his face.
His gaze stole to the picture again, but Adams and Hathaway stood close enough together that he didn’t see any apparent enmity. Maybe they weren’t well acquainted? “Have you worked here long?”
“A year,” Grayson answered for Adams.
“That’s also public record,” Adams said.
“You know what wasn’t in any records?” Grayson said, neutral as always. “Where Senator Hathaway really was last night.”
Adams sat back in his chair. “I beg your pardon?”
“The schedule says her last meeting was with the mayor. I’m asking where the senator went after that in her nice dress and heels. You’re her PA, with access to her schedule—what’s missing from it?”
Reece’s stomach lurched. He hadn’t known Senator Hathaway had been dressed up when she died. It made it seem more personal, somehow.
Adams’ tone was as crisp as his starched shirt. “I wasn’t privy to Hannah’s personal life. If her schedule says her last meeting was with the mayor, then that’s all I know.”
Lie. “You know obstructing an investigation is a crime, don’t you?” Reece said.
Adams wiped at his brow, but what he said was, “I don’t know where she went after that meeting.”
Lie. Reece desperately wanted to call Adams on it, but he couldn’t do it in front of Grayson, not without revealing himself.
Frustrated, he looked over the desk, spotless save for a stack of printed news articles. The top article’s headline had been highlighted in bright yellow and starred again with blue ink, for emphasis.
Senator Hathaway Makes Third Monthly Visit to Seattle Veterans Medical Complex.
Reece craned his neck for a better look. “When is that from?”
Adams snatched the article up. “None of your business,” he said, turning it over to hide the text from view.
“It’s from yesterday,” said Grayson.
“Yesterday?”Reecehad been at the SVMC yesterday, to see Cora about his nightmares. He must have missed Hathaway by just hours. That was unsettling. “Why was she at that hospital?”
“It’s on the schedule I sent.” Adams tapped his fingers on the back of the page. “Hannah’s dad was a veteran. She’s been open about his struggles and eventual suicide. She was visiting the hospital because she cared about veterans’ issues.”
That wasn’t a lie, but there was no compassion in Adams’ voice for either Hathaway’s dad or the other soldiers. Reece frowned. Cora and her fiancé might have mentioned a meeting yesterday when they were bashing on Hathaway’s bill, before Cora had read him and—well. Reece wasn’t going to think about Cora passing out right now. “Weren’t there people at that hospital fighting against Senator Hathaway’s anti-empathy bill?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.” Another lie. Before Reece could push, though, Adams added, “You know her bill is almost certain to pass now? After such a tragic death, other senators are fighting over who’s going to take up the cause in her memory.”
There was gloating in Adams’ eyes, threaded through with relief. Relieved that the bill would still pass? When had that been in doubt?
Reece leaned forward. There was more Adams was hiding. Reece could almost see it, like a thread hanging loose on a sweater, and if he pulled on it, all of Adams’ lies would fall away and he’d know everything Adams really felt—
Reece froze. Jesus, that kind of privacy violation—he shouldn’t even be thinking about it. What was wrong with him?
He looked up, and realized Grayson was watching him. But instead of speaking, Grayson pushed off the wall and went for the door without so much as a goodbye. Reece rolled his eyes.
“Thank you for yourhelp,” he said to Adams, making air quotes around the word, then chased after Grayson.
“Are we actually done talking to Adams?” Reece asked, catching up to Grayson in the reception area.
“That depends.”
“On?”
