Nicky shook her head to clear her thoughts as she pulled into the parking lot of Henry’s office building. She found a parking spot and faced Ken, who looked nervously at the building.

  “Ready?” Nicky asked.

  Ken nodded. “Let’s do this,” he said, and opened his door to get out of the car.

  Nicky followed suit, and they made their way toward Henry’s office building. They stopped at the entrance, taking in the grandeur of the building. It was a tall structure with yellow walls and pristinely landscaped gardens surrounding it.

  Nicky took a deep breath before pushing open the doors to enter. Inside, they were greeted by an elegant lobby with dark wood paneling and polished floors. They were met with a flurry of activity. Henry’s staff was scurrying around, trying to prepare for the upcoming election. As Nicky and Ken stepped inside, a few of the staff members glanced at them suspiciously, but moved on with their tasks.

  Nicky took a deep breath and approached the receptionist. She was an older woman with a stern face, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

  “Excuse me,” Nicky said. “We’re looking for Henry Minns. Is he in?”

  The receptionist nodded without meeting Nicky’s gaze. “He is, but he’s busy right now.”

  Nicky paused, debating whether or not to press further. She glanced at Ken, who gave her a slight nod of encouragement.

  “I understand that,” Nicky said slowly. “But I need to talk to him about something important. It’s about his campaign.”

  She saw the receptionist tense up and her lips quiver slightly. It made Nicky pause for a moment before continuing on, determined to get some answers from Henry even if it meant making the receptionist uncomfortable in the process.

  “Has Henry ever made you feel uncomfortable?” Nicky asked firmly, locking eyes with the woman across from her. The receptionist hesitated for a moment before finally shaking her head no and averting her gaze again.

  “Of course not,” the receptionist said. “Henry is a great man, and a great mayor.”

  But there was something about her expression that made Nicky wary—it almost seemed like she was hiding something from them, or trying not to give away too much information about Henry’s behavior toward women in general.

  “Are you sure?” Nicky asked. She glanced at Ken, then subtly flashed her FBI badge.

  The girl’s eyes widened. “FBI? What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t worry about that for now,” Ken said, leaning against the counter. “Just know that you can trust us. If there’s anything about Henry you think we should know, now would be the time.”

  The receptionist stared at them for a few moments, then finally nodded her head.

  “Henry is a good man,” she said firmly. “He’s never made me feel uncomfortable or done anything inappropriate.”

  Nicky still felt uneasy. It seemed like the receptionist was holding something back—but what? She decided to press on and see if she could get any more information out of the woman.

  “And did you ever see him with any women? Anyone other than his wife?”

  The receptionist hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “He’s always been very professional around here.”

  Nicky nodded, feeling some relief. It seemed unlikely that Henry was the killer if he was as professional as the receptionist said. But she still felt uneasy. Something was off, and she wanted to be sure before they confronted Henry.

  “Thank you,” Nicky said. “Do you know when he’ll be finished with his work?”

  The receptionist checked her watch. “He should be finished in a few minutes,” she said. “Would you like me to call him for you?”

  Nicky shook her head. “No, that won’t be necessary,” she said. “We’ll wait.”

  The receptionist nodded, then went back to her work. Nicky and Ken took a seat in the lobby to wait for Henry’s arrival. As they sat there, Nicky’s mind raced with questions. Was Henry the killer? Or was someone else involved? She wanted to know the truth, no matter what it was.

  A few minutes later, Henry emerged from his office. He was a tall man with graying hair and a stern expression. As he walked past Nicky and Ken, he barely acknowledged their presence.

  Nicky stood up and followed him, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what to expect when she confronted him, but she was determined to get the answers she needed.

  “Henry Minns!” she called out.

  Henry glanced at her in surprise, then narrowed his eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “We need to speak with you about June,” Nicky said. “I’m Special Agent Nicky Lyons, and this is my partner, Special Agent Ken Walker.”

  Henry’s lips pursed. “And why do you need to speak with me now? I’m very busy.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to speak with us now?” Ken asked.

  Henry shook his head. “I want to wait,” he said. “I’m very busy right now with my campaign. Go talk to my wife if you have questions. She’ll be more than happy to help you.”

  Nicky felt an icy chill in her gut. Why would Henry be so eager to send them to his wife? Could he really have done something to June?

  “Are you sure we can’t talk to you now?” she asked. “It’s important.”

  Henry sighed, as though he was exasperated with Nicky’s persistence. But then she flashed her FBI badge, along with Ken, holding it high so anyone in the lobby could see. Henry’s expression darkened.

  “Fine,” he said, “we can talk in my office.”

  He led them into a luxurious office with a large mahogany desk. He sat behind the desk, then pointed to two chairs in front of it. Nicky and Ken sat down and stared at Henry expectantly.

  “What is this about?” Henry said. “I’m very busy.”

  Nicky glanced at Ken, then cleared her throat. “Mr. Minns, were you informed of the reason your rally was cleared earlier today?”

  Henry shook his head. “I don’t know, some sort of criminal activity,” he said.

  “Is that what the police told you?” Nicky asked.

  Henry shrugged. “I don’t see why it matters,” he said. “What is this about?”

  “A woman was found dead by the docks,” Nicky said. She exchanged a glance with Ken again. “And we think you might have something to do with it.”

  Henry scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’m a very busy man. I would have nothing to do with any poor woman being found dead anywhere.”

  And yet he didn’t seem so remorseful. It seemed all that garbage Henry was spewing about being a “voice for the people” went away when he wasn’t performing on stage.

  “This number was found in her wallet,” Nicky said. She took out a piece of paper, which she’d scribed the number on, and showed it to Henry.

  All at once, his face fell. “That’s… you.” He frowned at Nicky in realization. “You’re the one who called me earlier.”

  “I was,” Nicky said. She nodded at Ken, who took her cue. He took out his phone and brought up a picture of June—when she was alive—flashing it at Henry.

  “Do you know this woman?” Ken asked. “Her name is June Peterson.”

  Henry averted his eyes. “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t know who she is.”

  Nicky narrowed her eyes, studying Henry’s face. He seemed to be telling the truth, but there was something in his voice that made her doubt him.

  “Are you sure?” Nicky asked. “You didn’t know her by any other name? Maybe a nickname?”

  Henry’s face hardened and he shook his head again. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ve never heard of this woman before in my life.”

  “And yet your personal number was written down on a piece of paper in her wallet,” Nicky pointed out.

  Henry’s face blanched. “That’s impossible,” he said. “You must have the wrong man.”

  “I have the right man,” Nicky said. “It’s your number. There’s no doubt about that.”

  “But I don’t know her,” Henry insisted. “She’s just some random woman. I can’t explain what my number is doing in her wallet, but I’m telling you I never met the woman.”

  Nicky stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. She could tell from his expression that he was terrified and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for him. He had something to do with June’s death, she was sure of it, but she still wasn’t sure what.

  “We’ll need to search your office,” Ken said suddenly. “Just in case.”

  Henry shook his head vehemently. “No,” he said. “That’s too much. You can’t just come in here and start snooping around.”

  “It’s important,” Nicky said gently. “We have to find out what happened to June and we need your help.”

  Henry sighed heavily, looking defeated. He knew there would be no way out of this mess now and he reluctantly agreed to let them search his office. As they searched through drawers and cabinets, Nicky couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of dread about what they might find or not find. There were so many unanswered questions surrounding June’s death and Nicky had a feeling that Henry Minns knew more than he was letting on.

  “This is preposterous,” Henry said. “You aren’t going to find anything in here.”

  Nicky and Ken exchanged a look and continued searching, but after several minutes of rummaging through drawers and filing cabinets, it became increasingly clear that Henry was right. They found nothing of significance in his office. Nicky sighed in frustration, her hopes of finding something to help June’s case diminishing.

  Just then, someone knocked on the office door. Nicky turned around to find a boy, probably no older than nineteen, standing there with a worried expression on his face. “Dad,” he said slowly. “What’s going on?”

  Henry huffed. “These FBI agents think my personal number was in some dead woman’s wallet. Ridiculous!”

  The boy’s face fell. “What woman?”

  That caught Nicky’s attention—something about the way the boy looked suddenly guilty, as if he knew something.

  “Her name is June,” Nicky said.

  The boy’s face went as white as a sheet.

  “Sh-she’s dead?”

  “Do you know her?” Ken asked, stepping forward and crossing his arms.

  The boy looked from Ken to Nicky and then finally at his father, who gave him a slight nod. “Yes,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I gave her my dad’s number.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Nicky couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Henry’s son stared timidly at the ground, but said nothing more, and Nicky shared a look with both Henry and Ken. This didn’t make any sense. Why would Henry’s son give June—a homeless prostitute—his father’s personal number?

  Could this just be a ruse to protect his dad?

  “What do you mean?” Nicky asked.

  “David,” Henry cut in, but David raised a hand.

  “She was a red-haired woman, right?” David asked.

  Nicky nodded, although this only further added to her confusion. She pulled up the photo of June on her phone and showed it to David, and he swallowed hard, guilt written all over his expression.

  “I-I saw her the other day when I was walking home from my friend’s at night,” David said. “She was running from someone… or something… I don’t know. She stopped me in the street, and I thought she was high on something.”

  Nicky imagined this situation in her head. It seemed plausible, but what was June running from?

  The kidnapper?

  “She begged me for help,” David said. “She said she needed a place to stay and some money. I didn’t have anything for her, but I—I wanted to help…”

  Henry stepped up, his expression furious. “And what does this have to do with me?”

  “I gave her your number, Dad,” David said. “I said you were someone who could help set her up with a shelter. I didn’t say you were the mayor, I just… I knew that if anyone could help her, it would be you, Dad.”

  Henry’s face was beet-red and Nicky could tell that this was a hard pill for him to swallow. He was a proud man, and didn’t want to be personally associated with drug addicts and prostitutes. June was allegedly both of those things.

  “Oh, David,” Henry said sadly. “Why would you be so stupid? You gave this girl money?”

  David shook his head. “No,” he said. “I didn’t give her any money. I don’t have any money. I gave her your number and then I went home. She was alone, Dad. She was literally begging me for help. I thought she could tell you and since you’re the mayor, you could help her.”

  “You should have called the police,” Henry said, then sighed. “This is completely my fault. I run my campaign on being there for everyone, but I’m not always like that. I’m sorry, son.”

  David shook his head. “You told me before you can help people like her,” he said. “I thought that meant you would help her. You wouldn’t let anyone else call the cops on her.”

  Nicky frowned. What was all this about?

  “David, I’m sorry,” Henry said. “I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.”

  “But she’s dead,” David said. “If I had just stayed with her…”

  “She never even called me,” Henry said. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

  Nicky shared a look with Ken. That was enough family talk for now—Nicky was more concerned about why June had seemed so scared.

  “Was she running from someone that night?” Nicky asked.

  David shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “She just said that she needed to get out of there. She said she was in danger. I didn’t know what to do, so I gave her Dad’s number.”

  “And you never saw her again?” Nicky asked.

  David shook his head. “Not that I know of.”

  “Did she tell you anything else?” Nicky asked. “About where she came from? Or her name?”

  David shook his head. “She was high,” he said. “She was out of it. I don’t think she even knew who she was.”

  Nicky frowned. That didn’t sound good. She needed to figure out more about June and what she was running from.

  “Did she mention anyone else?” Nicky asked. “Anyone she was afraid of? Or any other places she might have been staying?”

  David shook his head again. “No,” he said, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything else.”

  Nicky nodded, trying to process all of this information. If David was telling the truth, it seemed like June had been on the run for some reason, but what that reason was remained a mystery. She looked up at David and Henry, both of them looking so sad and helpless in the face of this tragedy that had unfolded before them. Nicky mulled this over, considering all the possibilities. If June had been running from someone, then that person could have been the one to kill her.

  “I have another question,” Nicky said.

  The two men looked at her, and David nodded. Nicky’s eyes flicked to the picture of June again, and then back to David’s face. “What did June look like when you met her?” Nicky asked.

  David refocused his eyes and looked to Nicky. “She was dirty. She looked like she had been sleeping in a trash can or something,” he said. “But she was a beautiful woman. I never would have guessed her to be… a prostitute. She had this innocence about her. Even after she told me what she did for a living, I couldn’t believe it. I just… she didn’t seem like the type of woman who would do that.”

  Nicky nodded, still staring at the picture of June. She wondered if David would have given her money if he had known she was a prostitute. Would he have even taken the time to try and help her?

  “Did she have a backpack?” Ken asked.

  David shook his head. “No,” he said. “It was like she had nothing on her.”

  Nicky glanced back up at David and his father, who were both looking at her with concerned expressions, as though worried they were still suspects. Unfortunately for David, it seemed as though he was the last person to see June Peterson alive.

  “David, where were you earlier today, during your father’s rally by the beach?”

  David’s eyes widened slightly, and he glanced over at his father before looking back to Nicky. “I was with my friends,” he said. “We were down by the pier all morning.” He looked away, a hint of sadness in his voice. It was clear that June Peterson had made an impact on him, and not just because she had been murdered.

  “Can someone confirm that?” Ken asked.

  David nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I was with my friends, they’ll tell you.”

  “Do you have their contact information?” Nicky asked. “I’d like to talk to them.”

  “Of course,” David said. He went over to the desk and grabbed a sheet of paper, writing down some names and numbers, then handed it to Nicky.

  Nicky stared at him for a moment, then turned away. In truth, she was furious, more furious than she had been in a long time, but she didn’t know what the hell she was angry at. She wasn’t really angry at David, but just this whole situation. She was angry at the fact that June had been so lonely and scared that she couldn’t even ask a family member for help. She was angry at how tragic the situation was, and she was even angry at the fact that she wasn’t angry at David. She didn’t care that he was a guy who just wanted to help women on the streets. David could have saved June’s life, but he left her.

  There was nothing they could do now, though. June was gone, but Delilah was still out there. They could still save her.

  “Thank you for your time,” Nicky said. “I really appreciate it.”

  She and Ken headed for the door.

  “That’s it?” Henry asked.

  Nicky looked over her shoulder at David and Henry, who were watching her with absolute confusion on their faces. “Yeah,” she said. “We’ll be in touch if we need more.”

  ***

  Nicky and Ken walked out of the office and into the warm day. The Bahamas sun was shining brightly in the sky, casting long shadows across the sand and making it sparkle like tiny diamonds. The salty smell of the ocean wafted through the open door, tickling Nicky’s nose as they stepped out. As beautiful as Wahoe Bay was—her head was pounding.

 

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