Free Assassin P.I. by Elizabeth Janette Page A

hired to dig into his death, so to speak.” The study was spacious and arranged in a way that clearly positioned Senator Santino as the one with all the power. Jack wouldn’t be surprised if the legs of the chair he sat in had been purposely sawed off to force him to peer up at Santino. A box of strategically placed cigars sat on the corner of the desk.
    “By whom?”
    Jack leaned over and removed a cigar from the box, fondling it as he mulled over giving Angie up as his client. Inhaling the rich, heady scent, the chocolate undertones took him by surprise. A Padron? The same brand Jack’s father enjoyed indulging in before he’d finally given up the habit. A quality, and expensive, smoke. He returned the cigar to the box.
    “Do you smoke?”
    Jack smiled recalling the times when he’d catch his father indulging when his mother wasn’t around. Even after he quit, he still kept a Padron tucked away for safekeeping and would take it out to sniff it on occasion. “On occasion.”
    Jack shook off the memory and refocused on why he was there in the first place. “My client chooses to remain anonymous.”
    “Ah, so it’s her then, is it? That woman was never good enough for my boy.” The senator stood and circled the desk, resting his hip against the counter. He clasped his hands together and smiled. It was a move Jack assumed was meant to show camaraderie, to prove they were on the same side in the situation. “I suppose we always knew this day would come. How much does Angela need?”
    In spite of the offensive comment, Jack kept his anger in check. Something in his voice told Jack that Mr. Santino knew far more than he’d let on. “How long have you known?”
    The senator’s eyebrow quirked upward. “Known what? That my son wasn’t actually married to that piece of trash? You don’t think I know a scam when I see one? As soon as he first mentioned her name, I hired a private investigator, much like yourself, to dig up any dirt on her he could. It’s hard to be married if no marriage license exists, Mr. Gaines.”
    Touché . So the man was street smart. Good. “I’m only here searching for answers. Nothing more. I take it Trevor liked to flirt with danger?”
    “I won’t deny that Trevor was troubled, yes, but eventually he managed to turn his life around. He had a good job, was making a difference in the city. Before he died, he was even running for office. She was the only thing dragging him down, dead weight, and he paid for that mistake with his life.”
    Could Trevor’s association with Angie have cost him his life? Jack’s mind flashed back to her short, weasel of a boss. Could he have had the playboy taken out, out of sheer jealousy? Possible.
    “Senator Santino, why was no autopsy performed?”
    “Didn’t need one. He was gunned down by a gang member. A witness corroborated the story, but before the suspect could be brought to justice, he committed suicide. Case closed. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else I need to be.”
    Based on the senator’s flinty stare, the case was far from closed. Jack surmised there was much the senator wasn’t saying. If right, Trevor’s father had used his considerable clout to pull some stings, successfully avoiding the autopsy, which would prove Trevor’s addiction to opiates. One thing was clear. The good senator probably didn’t off his own son.
    Working a witness for information took finesse. And time. Neither of which Jack had the luxury of wasting.
    The trip to Glenwood Park to interview Trevor’s hoity-toity parents had taken longer than he’d expected. By the time he’d dumped Angie off back at the office, with a firm warning to be gone by the time he got back, daylight was fading quickly in the short winter day.
    From the safety of his car, he scoped out the dock where Edwin worked. It was near closing time and Edwin was due to get off in five. From the looks of things, the workers had knocked off long before quitting time and were