When the Dead Speak

Chapter 68

Chapter 68

Preston slammed the pictures on the bar. Cain picked them up and studied them. He had no reaction, no smile, no sneer. He never had much reaction to anything. He was like a mindless robot. Cain's enormous biceps protruded from his short-sleeved knit shirt. He folded his arms like a palace guard waiting for orders.

"I was set up last night, goddammit." Preston had awakened with a dull headache and a vague memory of Jackie's voluptuous body. But not much more. He had stumbled from the shower, opened the drapes and blinked back the bright sunlight. It was when he was fumbling through his underwear drawer that he saw the pictures on the dresser. Four pictures of him in bed with an attractive woman, sand-colored hair, wearing an electric blue teddy cut high enough to make her legs look as long as the state of Florida. Him, a state representative, nuzzling his nose against her ear, nibbling at her breast through the teddy.

"I should have had you take care of Sergeant Casey weeks ago." Preston paced like a caged animal. "What the hell is she up to?" He balled up his right hand and pounded it into his left palm. "Nobody blackmails Preston Hilliard."

"When you told me she was working on the Hap Wilson case, I followed her, found out where she lives. But her place is guarded too well. Too many people there."

"Jezzus, Cain. What were you thinking?" Preston wrapped a hand around Cain's thick forearm and squeezed. "You only act when I tell you to act."

"Sorry." Cain picked up one of the pictures and studied it. He brought it closer, then said, "Did you see what this woman is wearing?"

"What?" Preston barked. He pulled the picture from Cain and studied it. He walked over to a table drawer, pulled out a magnifying glass and held it over the picture. "This better not be what I think it is." He looked at the enlarged necklace, the lightning bolt shape. "Goddam, sonofabitch."

"What about the black woman who was here last night? Do you want me to look her up? Apply a little pressure?"

Preston waved his hand. "No, no. I need to think about this. We need to proceed carefully." Preston cocked his head in thought. "Sergeant Casey was here with Monique the night of my reception, I'm sure of it. Must have been wearing a red wig. Shit," he muttered. "What if Governor Meacham hired them?" He rushed upstairs to his study with Cain close behind. He opened the wall safe and pulled out papers.

"What are you looking for?"

"Good, they're still here." He clutched the envelope marked A.M. in his hand. As he started to put it back, he hesitated. Curious, he checked the contents of the envelope and found the baseball cards.