Everyone was quiet, looking at him. He was doing the same thing he did when he performed—commanding the room.
“Meaning what, Mr. Harrington?” Oakes asked him. “What is your—”
On cue, the door opened and Stanhope walked in, followed by three other men, two clearly security and the third Peyton Bell, the Chicago deputy mayor.
“Oh, this just got stupid,” Brewster said under his breath.
“Mr. Harrington,” Bell began, greeting Cel in that fake way he had where he was trying to sound concerned and caring. After having to work with the man on a number of occasions, I was convinced, as were many people, that the mayor owed somebody something big, which was how Bell got the appointment as his deputy mayor.
Bell had been the one-term alderman of Chicago’s Eighteenth Ward and was defeated easily when he ran a second time. There were rumors of payoffs to secure his seat the first time, so when he was voted out, people thought that was it. But then suddenly, he was deputy mayor. Needless to say, it was a surprise. People wondered about the change, and some, like the many reporters who covered the city council, questioned the mayor constantly about his choice.
“I’m Peyton Bell, the deputy mayor.” He extended his hand to Cel, and then covered it with his other when Cel took it. “And I just want you to know that we’re committed to keeping you safe after this horrible tragedy.”
“What’re you doing in here?” Stanhope asked sharply, seeing me. “The First District is in charge of keeping Mr. Harrington safe.”
And, I thought, this was it. This man was going to hate me forever when the marshals service took over another high-profile case from him.
8
CELSO
The only good thing that came from the deputy mayor walking through the door of the interrogation room was that he was able to bring an end to my being questioned. Bell explained that Senan’s body was in the morgue, and that the ME had some preliminary findings. Eli was invited to go with the others into a room with a closed-circuit TV, and even though he didn’t want to leave me, I insisted he should. He needed answers as much as I did, and seeing the body would help.
I was surprised when Eli announced that Ian as well as George had gone to investigate the site, and then to see Senan’s body in the morgue so quickly. He’d been texting as I was being questioned, so I was guessing that was when he was talking to Ian. Knowing at least the general ins and outs of his job, I had to wonder how he and Ian were taking so many liberties with a police investigation.
I was taken to Commander Stanhope’s office and given a seat on his cold leather couch, where I would be safe to wait for Eli. My phone was on silent, but it vibrated constantly; everyone I knew, from the company and everywhere else, was calling me. Of course it was a story, a big one, but I was not ready to answer any questions.
When Eli got back from looking at Senan’s body, he was different. He wasn’t gentle with me or cajoling. He told me to get up, and when the detectives, standing there outside the office, asked where we were going, he said that wasn’t their concern. They could call him if they wanted to get in touch, but the marshals were taking point with my protection going forward. I knew, though, because I wasn’t stupid and had listened when all the guys talked about WITSEC on a number of occasions, that Eli had fudged things a bit.
“You lied to them,” I said as he grabbed my arm and led me out the back of the building, since all the reporters were out front waiting for me. They had already cornered Tildham and Nura, and had not let Delon get in his car without answering a slew of questions. I scanned it live on Twitter as Eli drove me away.
I watched other feeds as well, like the one happening at the CBC. The front gates, now locked, were swarmed by reporters, and fans were building a memorial of flowers, signs, cards, candles, and stuffed animals to Senan.
“I’m a bad person,” I muttered to Eli when he got in on the driver’s side.
“No, you’re not,” he said flatly. “If Senan had ever shown you even a trace of civility, I’m sure you would have reciprocated.”
Of course he knew what I’d been alluding to. He always knew. And he was right. If Senan hadn’t been such a prick, I wouldn’t have been an ass back to him.
“My mother met him at a fundraiser,” Eli told me as he took a left turn. “She said he was a pill.”
I couldn’t help smiling. I could hear Barbara saying the words. She would always point out people while we were at service and walk me right by those she didn’t deign to speak to. Which reminded me. “You know your mother has it out for Mrs. Silverberg.”
He was smiling as well. “And why is that?”
“Because she stole her brisket recipe.”
Heavy sigh. “Are we certain that’s true?”
I stage-gasped. “Are you doubting your mother?”
“I’m not doubting her, but her memory is in question.”
“Your mother’s memory for details is better than yours.”
He groaned loudly.
“It is.”