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“The senator… and Cheryl?”
He set his jaw. “We need to talk to him. And not in Boston. Or in Nantucket. It has to be at the house in Lenox.”
Gary’s brow furrowed. “You can’t tell if they’re in a bedroom at the senator’s house. Not that we saw any of them.”
Dan shook his head. “This has nothing to do with a bedroom. We need to see his art room again.”
“Why?”
Dan picked up the folder containing the Caravaggio photos and negatives. “Because there’s a mystery here, and I need to solve it. So call him first thing in the morning. If you can’t reach him, then leave a message, email him, whatever…. But insist he comes to Lenox tomorrow, or Friday at the latest.” As an afterthought, he added, “Maybe this time he should leave Mrs. Cain behind.”
And as suddenly as illumination had overtaken him, it fled, leaving him bereft of energy. He put his head back on the seat cushion.
“I don’t think I can move,” he said, half joking.
Gary grabbed his hands and tugged, pulling him to his feet. “That’s probably a combination of all the gymnastics you got up to—mentalandphysical. So let’s go back to bed.” He gave a rueful smile. “I don’t think we’re going to be getting up to much now. Well, I knowI’mnot.”
Dan stilled. “Are you okay?” He remembered his first time.
Gary bit his lip. “I’m fine. And very thankful.”
Warmth rushed through him. “I didn’t do all that much.”
Amusement danced in Gary’s eyes. “I wasn’t referring to you—though youwereawesome, don’t get me wrong.”
“Then what are you thankful for?”
That twinkle in his eyes was so attractive.
“Lube.”
Dan laughed, and they headed back to their bed. Despite the sated feeling that stole over him, he couldn’t shake off his discovery.
“He lied to us,” he murmured as they climbed into bed and Gary covered them with the sheet.
“Not so much a lie as an omission.”
Dan shook his head. “It amounts to the same thing. And it also tells us something important about the senator, something we should have realized.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s a damn good actor. Isn’t that a basic requirement for a politician? And if he could hide their relationship so convincingly, what else is he hiding?”
He didn’t want to believe the senator capable of murder, not after sensing all the emotion inside him when he spoke of Cheryl.
He couldn’t fake that—could he?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Friday, August 3, 2018
10:00 a.m.
GARY TURNEDright off West Street and drove along Under Mountain Road. “I think this is a reasonable enough hour, don’t you?” He’d called Senator Cain first thing Thursday, insisting that he meet them at the house in Lenox the following day. That hadn’t gone down well, not when he’d only seen them there a week ago, but Gary had stressed the importance of their visit.
Dan said nothing. He’d said little while Gary made breakfast and poured coffee, and he’d been quiet for most of the two-and-a-half-hour trip. Gary had a good idea of what lay at the heart of his silence.
He doesn’t want to believe the senator was involved in Cheryl’s death.
