Mightier than the sword, he rasped. He hoped. He prayed.
Reuben was lightheaded and weak when muscular arms pulled him back to the Commodores deck and propped him up against the bulkhead.
Well, if it isnt the legendary Reuben Page. You wouldnt be planning another exposé now, would you? Wheres the disk Dani gave you?
I dont know what youre talking about.
The voice laughed without amusement. Im afraid the truth is going to die with you, Mr. Page.
Reuben blinked the face and suit into focus and stood as tall as his battered body would let him. The truth never dies.
It does tonight.
Chapter One
W.I. Rebecca Page read the acronym out loud. That has to be Wolfe International.
She gently turned the tattered page and read the names and information enclosed there.
TW,Sr/TW,Jr/DK/AC
Dont worry. Will dec. gibberish at earl.con. unless you get it done first.
DB dead. Removed plant. Kid clean.
Execution confirms suspicions. KCPD will need different kind of proof, however.
Pursue lead to bus locker. DB promised disk. Should name names. Someone on Econ Dev Comm in it up to his eyeballs. Influence certain. Too much money floating around KC. Its here at the docks. My nose can smell a ratand hes a big one. Theyre watching me, so I know Im onto something.
Stay away from this one, kiddo. Just play bookkeeper for me.
Will copy you as soon as able. See you at Mizzou.
XXOO,
Dad
Love you, too. Rebecca turned to the back of the small notebook and looked at the boxes and letters shed copied herself. It was the last cryptic message her father had left for her. DBD->COM. . Over the last several months, shed added a spiderweb of names and possible interpretations. What were you trying to tell me, Dad?
As always, the answer toyed with her thoughts but escaped her.
She tenderly closed the notebook and lifted it to her nose, inhaling deeply. If she closed her eyes and imagined hard enough, she could still detect her fathers familiar scent on the soft, well-worn leather. She could hear his throaty laugh and feel his arms wrapping her up in a warm hug.
But she was long past sitting on the sidelines and playing bookkeeper. Rebecca wasnt a woman given to fanciful notions, nor did she waste her time when there was a story to pursue. She had big footsteps to fill as a reporter for the Kansas City Journal. This wasnt just about living up to her fathers reputation and making a name for herself in her chosen career. This was about living up to her fathers love. This was about proving his faith in her hadnt been misplaced.
Her artificially long lashes tickled her cheeks as she opened her eyes and steeled herself for the task at hand. The only thing that warmed her tonight was the muggy summer heat. The only scents were the faint, seaweedy smell of the Missouri River and her own spicier perfume. The only laughter she heard belonged to a few of the lucky customers outside the Riverboat Casino complex, waiting for a cab or valet service. The players whod been less fortunate filled the night air with damning curses and desperate ramblings.
Rebecca watched them all from the front seat of her cherry-red Mustang. Was he the one? Was she?
Who were the big guns with money-laundering and murder on their minds? And who were the innocent bystanders, unaware of the big money, big influence and big cover-up hidden beneath the Riverboat Casinos polished-steel facade and glitzy excitement? Theyd all come to the shiny steamship that had once been the rusted wreck of the Commodore riverboat. Renovation and expansion could only mask the Commodores secrets. A new name and facelift didnt change the fact that her fathers life had ended here.
And where the trail of clues hed left for her ended, her investigation would begin. If she could unlock the details of that last exposé her father had been working on, she just might be able to piece together the rest of the puzzle and find out whod murdered him. Which was a hell of a lot more than those pathetic all-talk, no-action bozos at KCPD had been able to do over the past three years. Theyd relegated Reuben Pages murder to their unsolved cold-case files.
Rebecca had no intention of giving up on her father.
His memory was all she had left.
With her nerve firmly set into place, Rebecca locked the precious notebook inside the glove compartment and inhaled a deep, fortifying breath. Squeezing the university class ring that hung from a white-gold chain around her neck, she whispered, This ones for you, Dad.
She bussed the man-sized ring with a quick kiss and tucked it inside the décolletage of her little black dress. Once out of the car, she paused for a moment to adjust the swingy hemline that stopped several inches above her knees. Any day of the week she preferred the practicality of jeans and khakis over a dress and three-inch heels. But what was the point of standing five-foot-ten if a girl couldnt show off a little leg when the occasion called for it?
Tonights game plan definitely called for it.
As did the free fall of curly brunette hair that tickled the bare skin between her shoulder blades. Rebecca paused to open her tiny purse and pull out her compact, ostensibly to check the subtle pout of her ruby-tinted lips. In reality, she was verifying that the miniature recorder she carried would be ready at the push of a button should she need it. Tonight was more about identifying the players shed been researching rather than finding any meaningful facts. If she could ingratiate herself into the casino crowd, get the layout of the place and the faces memorized, then shed be in position to start digging beneath the surface. Deck by deck. Suspect by suspect. Clue by clue.
The Journal hadnt sanctioned this assignment. Her editor had no idea of the personal nature of this investigation. He probably wouldnt have granted her vacation if hed known what she was really up to. But blessing or no, she intended to approach this job with the same diligence shed use on any other story she was reporting. She intended to be just as prepared, just as thorough.
Rebecca snapped her bag shut and let the masquerade begin.
She curved her mouth into a subtle pout at the appreciative glances and outright stares that followed her across the wide, fixed gangplank leading over the water to the Riverboats light-studded entryway. Good. She didnt have the money to throw around at the gaming tables necessary to garner the attention of the men she was here to investigate. And she couldnt exactly flash her press pass or use her real name, in case someone connected her to her father or the paper.
But there was more than one way to get herself invited into the back rooms and private offices on board. And though it stuck in her feminist craw, Rebecca Page was relying on the long legs shed inherited from her father and the dramatic sculpt of cheekbones shed inherited from her mother to get her inside that inner circle to the secrets hidden there.
The noise of bells and whistles, chatter and music assaulting her ears nearly sent Rebecca back out the sliding glass doors. But, seeing the wine-red carpet and refined appointments of an Old South cruise ship as some sort of surreal memorial to her father, she curled her toes inside her stilettos and refused to retreat. Bright lights and false fronts aside, this was where her father had died. It was where he might have hidden a disk or notebook before taking a bullet and plunging into the river.