Page 36 of False Evidence

Drake wasn’t happy, but he was a team player—when Senator Talon demanded it. Now he just worked to sabotage JT from the inside.

He was counting the days until the man retired. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

He watched the blonde as she sipped her drink. Stunning didn’t begin to describe her. Blonde, blue-eyed, tall, and busty, she was a centerfold come to life. And from their short conversation at the bar, he knew there was more to her than gorgeous face and body.

Of course, her taste in dates wasn’t a ringing endorsement of her intelligence, but he was the guy who’d hired the prick four years ago, so he couldn’t judge. Spaulding made a good first impression.

The foolish but lucky man stepped into the arched doorway for the private party, and JT leaned toward Lee. “That’s him. Spaulding.”

Russ Spaulding scanned the dance floor, probably looking for his date. There were only a half dozen couples dancing, making it easy to see that the tall blonde was not among them. Finally, Spaulding spotted her on the far side of the room and made his way toward her.

JT had hoped to give the woman a ride home, but it looked like she wouldn’t have to rely on the kindness of strangers.

He should have given her his card, but he’d been stupidly hesitant to be so heavy-handed. Plus, he’d liked the idea that she had no clue who he was.

These days, everyone wanted a piece of him—either because he was a senator’s son, or because he was CEO of an international engineering firm with a net income of over 200 million dollars for the previous fiscal year. And he was only thirty-one years old.

Sure, nepotism got him on the fast track, but he had an engineering degree, and it was under his management that the number of active projects had increased by forty-six percent in the last six years, and the average budgets for those projects had increased by twenty-seven percent.

Spaulding and the blonde spoke by the bar. JT was pretty sure she was asking for a ride home, but the guy ordered a cocktail, and they moved to a table ten feet from where JT and Lee sat. The blonde placed her drink on the table and headed for the casino floor.

For a moment, he thought she was leaving, but then she turned toward the corridor for the restrooms. She’d be back. Maybe he’d have a chance to get her number after she ditched her dumbass date.

He turned his focus to the engineer whose gaze also followed the blonde. The moment she was out of sight, he picked up her drink and took a sip.

JT had a view of his profile and saw Spaulding smile as he set it down, then reached into the inside of his suit jacket. JT couldn’t see anything in his hand, but he definitely saw the guy’s hand hover over her drink for a second. Then he put the drink back in the spot where she’d left it. His hand disappeared into his pocket again.

“Motherfucker,” Lee whispered.

“He’s so fucking fired. Right after he gets arrested.” JT kept his gaze on the drugged drink as he spoke to Lee. “There should be a plainclothes security guard at the edge of the casino floor by the entrance to the steakhouse. If he’s not there, get one in uniform.”

Lee rose. “On it.”

JT was grateful to have Lee here. This way, he could keep an eye on Russ Spaulding and the drink, ready to move should the blonde return.

Internally, he seethed. He wanted to take the bastard out with violence, not the law.

Minutes ticked by. Lee returned with the plainclothes guard before the woman reappeared. He and the guard took a position on the far side of the table, appearing to be chatting casually as they watched the couples on the dance floor, keeping an eye on Spaulding with peripheral vision.

For his part, Spaulding appeared oblivious to the attention he was getting.

Lee typed a message on his BlackBerry, and JT pulled his out to see what Lee had to say.

Received:Tribal police are in the hall, ready to move in. They have a digital camera and will record when the blonde returns.

This was about to get ugly. JT felt sweat dot his brow. He’d seen hand motions, nothing more. What if the drink wasn’t drugged?

No. He knew what he saw.

At last, the blonde returned. JT’s stomach clenched at what would’ve happened next if he and Lee hadn’t seen Spaulding slip the drug into the drink.

She didn’t smile as she took her seat next to the prick. JT rose and took a step toward them, ready to stop her from taking a sip, but he knew they needed to let the scene play for a moment if they wanted more evidence for prosecution.

The song that was playing ended and a short break was announced. Security must have talked to the DJ. He hoped that meant the camera wouldn’t have a problem recording Spaulding and the blonde’s conversation.

“Bummer,” Spaulding said. “I was looking forward to dancing with you.”

“And I said I’m too tired to dance.”