took a lasting look at her before he agreed and took the inner seat. Slipping in next to him, she immediately did up her seatbelt. Her hands gripped the armrest, squeezing and twisting unconsciously.
"I remember the last time I was in New York," she babbled. "It was in December, the weather was barely fit for penguins, let alone flying."
"Yeah, if heights aren't your thing, flying can be a hard way to travel," Scott said, lowering the window shade. "Do you get motion sickness, too?"
"No, nothing like that," she answered curtly, obviously not willing to fill in the finer details.
"Let me guess…Christmas shopping in the Big Apple."
"No," she said, her voice soft, "that trip was to claim my brother Rhen's body."
Scott gave a murmur of sympathy.
Feeling an unusual sense of vulnerability, Tessa blurted, "He was murdered…shot pretty much at point blank range; makes me consider, it was someone he knew." She paused, and then added, "Did I ever mention, that Christopher and Rhen used to be pretty tight?"
Her companion looked at her, the betrayal she felt was so evident. "What do the police say?"
Tessa gave a snort of disgust; Rhen had been a hit man, plain and simple. "Oh you know, the usual, they'll contact me if they get any leads. I haven't heard a word. I doubt they're out there looking very hard."
He stared at her; she was so jaded. He pushed. "When was this?"
"December 23rd of last year." The look in her eyes suggested a memory came with the disclosure.
Well, we're talking my town now, I know people," he said compassionately, "Let me see what I can find out. Let me have your phone."
The flight attendant announced that all electronic devices should be turned off and began the safety briefing, but Scott didn't heed the warning. He put through a call to an office at the New York Post.
"Marlayna," he purred, "how are you doing, Beautiful?"
A smirk laced the response. "Hello, Scott. I'm busy Darling, trying to get the next edition out."
"I need a favor."
"Uh-huh. Well, since you don't work here anymore, what can the Post possibly have that you want?"
He ignored the loaded question. "I just need a name this time. Was it Vincent White who was the reporter that covered those murders late last year? I remember him calling them something catchy in keeping with the holiday season." Scott remembered but out of respect for Tessa, he didn't want to have to repeat it with her in earshot.
"Which ones. Are you talking about the DeMarco killings in late November? White, the damn fool, titled one article, 'Garbage In/Garbage Out probably in relation to that garbage contract dispute. All three of those gentlemen were from the same 'family', if you know what I'm saying….the Mob is clannish that way. And then there was a retaliation hit in December – Christmas Delivery. A bow was put on the victim's chest."
Scott could almost hear the frown in her voice as she added, "I can't believe you don't remember."
"Retaliation hit?"
"Now I know that brilliant mind of yours is ticking, Scott."
Suddenly, silence reigned on the other end. "What are you sitting on?" she asked. "I get dibs on the article, too. I want to know anything you find out. We have the time zone difference; I want it to hit New York before Chicago."
"I have to go Marlayna but I'm coming to town. Pull the file for me and I'll buy you dinner tomorrow night." He didn't bother saying it would be a group affair, the same dinner he had promised his contacts on the police force when he'd called them the day before.
Marlayna consented. "Fair enough. You can pick me up at six tomorrow night. My place."
The flight attendant gave Scott a pointed glare about his use of the phone, so he finished the call and passed the phone to Tessa. He wondered if she would release the stronghold she had on the armrest to take back her cell phone. Barely, but she did.
"Do you ever turn it off?"
He mimicked her exasperated tone, "Have you ever dealt with Marlayna Reed?"
Taking her
"I remember the last time I was in New York," she babbled. "It was in December, the weather was barely fit for penguins, let alone flying."
"Yeah, if heights aren't your thing, flying can be a hard way to travel," Scott said, lowering the window shade. "Do you get motion sickness, too?"
"No, nothing like that," she answered curtly, obviously not willing to fill in the finer details.
"Let me guess…Christmas shopping in the Big Apple."
"No," she said, her voice soft, "that trip was to claim my brother Rhen's body."
Scott gave a murmur of sympathy.
Feeling an unusual sense of vulnerability, Tessa blurted, "He was murdered…shot pretty much at point blank range; makes me consider, it was someone he knew." She paused, and then added, "Did I ever mention, that Christopher and Rhen used to be pretty tight?"
Her companion looked at her, the betrayal she felt was so evident. "What do the police say?"
Tessa gave a snort of disgust; Rhen had been a hit man, plain and simple. "Oh you know, the usual, they'll contact me if they get any leads. I haven't heard a word. I doubt they're out there looking very hard."
He stared at her; she was so jaded. He pushed. "When was this?"
"December 23rd of last year." The look in her eyes suggested a memory came with the disclosure.
Well, we're talking my town now, I know people," he said compassionately, "Let me see what I can find out. Let me have your phone."
The flight attendant announced that all electronic devices should be turned off and began the safety briefing, but Scott didn't heed the warning. He put through a call to an office at the New York Post.
"Marlayna," he purred, "how are you doing, Beautiful?"
A smirk laced the response. "Hello, Scott. I'm busy Darling, trying to get the next edition out."
"I need a favor."
"Uh-huh. Well, since you don't work here anymore, what can the Post possibly have that you want?"
He ignored the loaded question. "I just need a name this time. Was it Vincent White who was the reporter that covered those murders late last year? I remember him calling them something catchy in keeping with the holiday season." Scott remembered but out of respect for Tessa, he didn't want to have to repeat it with her in earshot.
"Which ones. Are you talking about the DeMarco killings in late November? White, the damn fool, titled one article, 'Garbage In/Garbage Out probably in relation to that garbage contract dispute. All three of those gentlemen were from the same 'family', if you know what I'm saying….the Mob is clannish that way. And then there was a retaliation hit in December – Christmas Delivery. A bow was put on the victim's chest."
Scott could almost hear the frown in her voice as she added, "I can't believe you don't remember."
"Retaliation hit?"
"Now I know that brilliant mind of yours is ticking, Scott."
Suddenly, silence reigned on the other end. "What are you sitting on?" she asked. "I get dibs on the article, too. I want to know anything you find out. We have the time zone difference; I want it to hit New York before Chicago."
"I have to go Marlayna but I'm coming to town. Pull the file for me and I'll buy you dinner tomorrow night." He didn't bother saying it would be a group affair, the same dinner he had promised his contacts on the police force when he'd called them the day before.
Marlayna consented. "Fair enough. You can pick me up at six tomorrow night. My place."
The flight attendant gave Scott a pointed glare about his use of the phone, so he finished the call and passed the phone to Tessa. He wondered if she would release the stronghold she had on the armrest to take back her cell phone. Barely, but she did.
"Do you ever turn it off?"
He mimicked her exasperated tone, "Have you ever dealt with Marlayna Reed?"
Taking her
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