“We’re leaving for the airport in a couple of hours. I should wake Phillip up.”

That would take care of Gerald’s dilemma. “Good, I need to talk to him real quick. I was about to call him on the intercom. I’d rather you did the honors.”

The senator chuckled with a smile, and Gerald understood why the man had never lost an election. He knew how to appear completely charming and relatable. “Phillip’s never been a morning person. I‘ll let him know you’re waiting to talk to him. Must be urgent if you’re here this early on a Saturday morning.”

Gerald shifted on his feet and pulled his sleeves again. “A personal matter, actually.”

The senator nodded. “Got it. I’ll let him know.” He poured two mugs of coffee, adding plenty of cream to both, and backed through the swinging kitchen door. “A little peace offering. We were up till one last night packing and talking. Coffee should wake him up easier.”

Gerald sincerely doubted coffee was going to help after his boss found out he hadn’t completed his mission.

“What? What the hell is it?” Mason asked Ray again. The other detective was frantically rooting through his papers. Mason was about to pull the car over and grab the papers to see for himself.

“Hang on. I want to make sure I’m not totally wrong first.”

“Christ, Ray, you’re slower than my mother’s dial-up.”

Ray scanned a page. “Here it is. Here’s the name again. Yep. Phillip Brody was the prosecutor for Hinkes’s trial.”

“What the hell? Our Governor Brody?”

“Yeah, our governor started out in the Multnomah County district attorney’s office before moving into politics. Ran for state representative, succeeded, and moved up from there. But before that, he was a lowly assistant district attorney.”

“Wait a minute.” Mason’s brain was making leaps and bounds. And somersaults. “So, Phillip Brody knew Hinkes at some point. Also had to learn what a scumbag he was.”

“There’s no way he’d keep up an association with that kind of person.”

“Christ, I’d hope not. I like to think our elected officials have better taste.”

“Governor Brody also has the type of power and access to make someone’s past disappear.”

“Shit.” Mason didn’t know if his brain could accept that step.

“Think the governor knows where to find Hinkes these days?”

“That’d be a big help. But wait a minute. Katy Darby.”

“What about her?”

“She worked on Senator Brody’s campaigns…maybe she also worked with Governor Brody? She seemed to be the type of person who would work with both men. Their politics are similar. I have to imagine that working on a campaign isn’t a year-round job once the election is over. I wouldn’t be surprised if she worked with both men. If one was happy with her work ethic, surely he’d recommend her to his brother. It’d make sense that she’d spend time during one man’s off-season helping out the other one,” said Mason.

“And she met up with Hinkes that way? That’s implying Hinkes was still in association with the governor back then…or whatever position he held at that time.”

“Why would the governor maintain a relationship with a scumbag he prosecuted? Especially a potentially murdering scumbag?” Mason was afraid to let his brain follow the possibilities presented by that train of thought.

Ray’s brain zipped right up the path. “Because he needed someone to do some sort of dirty work.”

“And he exchanged it for getting him off the murder charge,” Mason finished. Fuck. “This isn’t a TV show. Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life.”

“It shouldn’t,” agreed Ray. “But we have to look at this.”

Mason glanced at his speedometer and saw he was over the speed limit by twenty-five miles per hour. He let up on the gas, his leg aching to push harder. “I don’t like this theory.”

“It’s making my stomach cringe. This is our fucking governor. The people in this state are crazy about him. He seems to be a great guy.”

“Well, people thought the same about Ted Bundy.”

“Governor Brody isn’t a serial killer.”

“No, but I think he might have hung out with one.”

The sky was barely lightening as Michael and Chris drove up the long, winding driveway to the governor’s mansion. It looked like a manicured park. There were tall fir trees and flawless grassy slopes with large, artfully arranged boulders that looked like they’d always been part of the landscape. The huge Tudor house came into sight, and Chris craned his neck to see the entire home.

“I can’t believe one of them made it this far.”

Michael smiled. “They’ve both done real well. They’re naturals for politics.”

“I remember.”

“How much have you followed them?”

Chris shrugged. “Here and there. I’d go through spurts and follow them online quite a bit for a few months. Then tell myself to not pay attention. That’d work for a while until one of them did or said something that got the press’s attention.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good at that.” Michael studied his brother. “How long did you hold on to the politics dream?”

Chris snorted. “That vanished immediately. I never even considered it when I came back. The thought of all that spotlight made me want to puke. I did everything I could to stay off camera when they found me and continued that for years. I didn’t want someone saying, ‘Hey, you don’t really look like Chris.’ That was my biggest fear. That I would be found out, break my parents’ hearts, and then he would find out. He’d destroy everyone if he knew I still lived. I’d lose my parents and your parents and you permanently.”