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When the phone rang, Sterling snatched up the receiver and said, “Perry.”
“Sterling, it’s me.” Liam Morrow’s voice sounded low, worried.
“If this is about that girl of yours,” Sterling said, “I’m busy right now and—”
“It’s not about Chloe.”
In the background, Sterling heard voices, some muffled shouting. His eyebrows drew together. “What’s going on?”
“I’m with Chloe now. We’re at the TCC and something’s happened.”
Well hell. That didn’t sound good. “What exactly’s going on, Liam?”
“There’s a body,” Liam said. “A dead guy. In the basement.”
“What?” His still sharp mind went momentarily blank.
“Yeah, listen, Sterling,” Liam continued. “Apparently, he’d been there this whole time. Maybe since before the storm. The crew’s been pumping out the water, and that’s when they found him.”
Sterling stood up slowly, his mind back in gear and currently racing. “Well, who the hell is he?”
“Don’t know. We closed up the room and Bill Baker called the police.”
“Damn it!” In his mind, Sterling could see the headlines already. Dead Man Found at New Texas Cattleman’s Club. Murder?
This was a disaster waiting to happen. Sterling did some fast thinking. He had to contain this somehow. Keep it quiet at least until they had an ID on the victim and a cause of death. If this got out now and the media made it a salacious story—which they happily would—it could kill the new club charter.
“All right, Liam, listen,” Sterling said, rushed now, “you tell my construction crew to keep their damn mouths shut about what they found.”
“All right,” Liam said, “but that’s not going to change anything, Sterling. The police are still on the way.”
“I’ll handle the police,” Sterling told him. “You let the crew know that it’ll mean their jobs if I hear about any of them talking to the press. Or anyone else for that matter.”
Was the man dead before the storm or during it? Before, he’d have needed a key to get in. During, with the windows blown in, he could have walked in with no problem. But Liam and Chloe had been right upstairs. Too many questions, not enough answers.
Still frowning, he ordered, “We don’t know anything so there’s no point speculating with the media.”
“Fine. I’ll tell them. But, Sterling, like I said, the police are coming. Hell, I can hear the sirens now. You can’t keep this quiet.”
“Watch me.” Sterling heard the sirens through the phone and rubbed the back of his neck. “Liam, when the police arrive, get the one in charge to call me once he’s examined the scene. I’m going to pull in some favors with the chief and the mayor.”
“Seriously, Sterling? A man’s dead.”
He scowled at the phone. Liam was a good man, but he couldn’t see as far as Sterling could. And Sterling wasn’t about to watch his plans disintegrate because some damn fool got himself killed.
“And he won’t get any deader if we do this my way. Now you take care of this, Liam. We need to keep this quiet, you understand?” Sterling was gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. “With all the damage and injuries from this storm still being reported on, we should be able to bury this news at least for a few days. With a little time, we can spin this story the right way. I need this quiet, Liam. Handle it.”
* * *
Angela Perry rushed into her father’s office just in time to hear the end of the phone conversation. She’d gone to see her father, to ask him for the truth about Ryder Currin. The rumors she had heard about Ryder simply didn’t add up to the man she’d spent time with during the storm.
But now, the need for that truth suddenly took a back seat. “Dad? What do you need to spin? What’s happened? What are you trying to hide?”
Sterling slammed the phone receiver down, looked at his daughter and demanded, “Angela, what are you doing here?”
“This is still my home,” she snapped, and thought he looked worried. Her father was never worried. Or if he was, no one could tell. He had a stone face when he needed one, which was most of the time.
