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“Why not me? You don’t believe in me? Is this all an act?”
“No, I swear. I just didn’t know you’d planned to go to Washington. I thought that was Palmer’s dream.”
“Father always thought he was the best. Palmer could do no wrong. Palmer was the best at sports. Palmer was the best at debate club. Palmer. Palmer. Palmer. I’m so sick to death of him. I don’t want to hear his name again. When I’m through, no one in this state will remember him. The only name they’ll know is Perry Pace. Someday, they’ll only remember my father as that man who raised the famous Perry Pace.” He drained the last of the scotch and looked at the empty bottle. “Son-of-a-bitch. Guess I’ll have to make a beer run.” He chuckled. “Or in this case, a thirty-year-old scotch run. God, I crack me up.”
“What are you going to do to Palmer?”
“Do you care?” He got in her face, his whiskey breath making her pull back. “He’s been cheating on you with Nora Jensen, sweetheart. This whole time. It started before he went to Paris to bring you home.” He snorted. “I arranged that.” He poked himself in the chest with his thumb. “The dumbass. He fell right into my plans.”
“What will you do now?”
“Finish my plan.”
“What’s that?”
He squatted and grinned. “I suppose I can share it with you. After all, you can’t tell anyone, can you?”
She shook her head.
“I’ve made a trail of financial records that will make it look like the company was being embezzled. And it all leads straight to Palmer. He’s going to have it spread out all over his desk. I even wrote a nice suicide note. He’s going to blow his brains out tonight at approximately nine pm. Exactly the time he thinks Nora is meeting him for an illicit rendezvous at the office.” He bowed his head, laughing. “Pretty good, huh?”
“What happens to me?”
“You, my love, will be with me on a jet to the Seychelles. I’ve already transferred a good sum of money through Palmer’s accounts to an account there. Now the only question is, do you go willingly or do I drug you and bring you on board stuffed in my luggage?” He stroked her cheek. “I’m going out to get more booze. You think about it while I’m gone.”
He headed to the door, grabbing a set of keys.
“Wait. Perry, please. Don’t leave me here like this. Please.” She had to convince him she was with him. “You’re right. I never wanted Palmer. I was going to tell him at the ball. Then with the funeral, I just couldn’t.”
He smiled. “I always knew you didn’t want him. You shouldn’t have made me mad. I heard from Nora Jensen you were buying lingerie for Palmer. I was furious at the thought.”
Her eyes widened. “Did you cut up my red dress?”
“It was a whore’s gown. I couldn’t let you wear that.”
“Perry. Untie me. Please.”
He smiled and walked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Where the fuck would he have taken her?” Grady paced in front of the wall of windows in Chris’s office. He dragged a hand through his hair.
Chris tapped his thumb on the desk. “Wait. He’s driving a rental car.”
“How do you know that? He had a truck.”
“He’s got access to a lot of vehicles, but they’d all trace back to him. I bet he’s in a rental.”
“But that’s traceable, too.”
“Not immediately. Not like a license plate is.”
“So, how does that help us find him?”
“Rental companies have GPS tracking on all their vehicles. We go in and flash those FBI badges. Ask for the tracking locator information on the vehicle of one Perry Pace of Dallas, Texas.”
***
