It’s time to find out if Woodard is a kitty cat or a snake.
And therefore, I assume he’s a snake and it’s time for a good game of the lion, me, and the snake, the bad guy.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
And so we begin.
“What can I tell you, Agent Love?” Woodard asks.
“Why did you assume I was here about Rip?”
“I called him yesterday. And I saw him last night. It seemed logical.”
“Why not contact us?”
“It didn’t feel appropriate. You have a process. And I’m certain the day after his death, that process is highly focused on forensics.”
Maybe I should start calling him Rolls Royce, he comes off so nice and smooth. “Tell me about last night,” I continue.
“It was one of those formal charity events you want to be fun and lively. Instead, everyone walks around uncomfortably, watching what they say, with a stick up their snobby asses.”
“Yes, but sticks belong up snobby asses,” I point out.
He laughs. “Yes. Yes, they do, Agent Love. And too often, I want to carry a supply with me.”
“Was Rip worthy of a stick?”
“Rip played the Hampton circle quite well. I had a hard time getting a read on him, which is rare for me. I’m good at sizing people up.”
“Really?” I query, and because I want to know just how smooth under pressure he really is, I put him on the spot. I ask, “How do you size me up, Mr. Woodard?”
Jay shifts uncomfortably in his chair as if he can’t believe I just asked that question. Woodard laughs. “Let me just say this, Agent Love. I knew your mother.”
I cannot count on two hands how many times people have said that to me. It’s the beginning of a comparison between me and her, which I do not like. I’m not her. I will never be her. I will never try to be her. She owns that space eternally and I like it that way.
In this case, though, Woodard has just connected himself to my life, and right now, that might just connect him to this case, or to the attempt on Kane’s life.
“She was beautiful,” he continues, “charming and radiated something I can only call magic. You look like her, but you, Agent Love, are her polar opposite. You are not charming, but I believe that’s a solid choice you’ve made, for whatever reason. You do not radiate magic but rather aggression. And I must say, I quite liked your dry sense of humor. That joke at the front door though, you chose the wrong audience. Violet is stone cold.”
He’s not a kitty cat. He’s that Rolls Royce, too smooth for his own good but not mine. “You left that part out about me, Mr. Woodard. The stone-cold part. And the fact that I handle a gun and a knife much better than my mother.” I’m done with his assessment, but I don’t move on, I just focus on the connection he has to me and my mother. “How did you know my mother?”
“Your father and I have done business for years. I’m rooting for him in the election.”
And there it is.
My bastard father, who is under Pocher’s wing and control.
And I’d bet money that Woodard is part of the Society.
“Do you know Kane Mendez?” I ask.
“Of course. I’ve been stalking your fiancé since he was practically in diapers. We did a small venture together through his financial guy, and it went well, but he walked away. I would love to take you both to dinner to talk about that.”
“I’m not good at public outings like that. I tend to talk too much about dead people and blood splatter. I’ve also been known to pull my gun at inappropriate times. And how do I still have my badge, you might ask? They’re afraid to try and take it.”
“Truth,” Jay interjects. “One hundred percent truth.”
Good timing, my man Jay.
But my intent, to distract him and create discomfort, is well in play. It’s time to move on and so I do. “Tell me about your time with Rip at the party.”
“I chatted with him a few minutes, saw him only that briefly.”
“What did you talk about?”
“He wanted to have lunch to review a big project of some sort. He was always pitching me.”
“Did you see who he was with?” I ask.
He laughs. “No one that I saw. He was quite the ladies’ man. I got the impression, on every occasion possible, he preferred to keep his options open.”
Because he was a player, I think. And that seems relevant for many reasons, but certainly revenge could mean jealousy.
“What projects did you do with Rip Vaughn?”
“None directly,” he states. “But he did give me a tip on a gaming company that I jumped into.”
I sit up a little straighter. Woodard is turning out to be quite the talker. “What gaming company?”