confident,” she said, speaking up for the first time since introductions.
“Because I am confident. It’s not something I can put my finger on specifically, but I was an MP in the army for twelve years, then a cop for ten years in Corpus Christi. I trust my gut, and my gut tells me Harper is everything he appears to be. Harper was a religious man. Not a wear-it-on-your-sleeve holier-than-thou hypocrite, but quietly religious. He didn’t swear. He rarely drank, and when he did it was usually with a client. He raised his daughter after his wife died of cancer. He didn’t even start dating again until Jolene was in college. In fact, before he met Adeline I don’t think he saw anyone regularly. His entire life was HWI and Jolene.”
“And his wife?”
“He loved Adeline, but when they married, he didn’t change much. He still worked from seven in the morning until six in the evening, four days a week. He would attend her local campaign events, but he hated traveling to D.C. and only did it if there was something important to Adeline, like when she received an award from a humanitarian group last year. He supported her career wholeheartedly—he’d encouraged her to run for office in the first place when his friend Roy Travertine died. But Harper is San Antonio born and bred, and he loved it here. Adeline accepted it. They were sweet together. She’d sometimes surprise him and come by the office in the late afternoon with a treat, usually ice cream from Amy’s. Harper loved ice cream.”
Smith had been all professional and straightforward, but for the first time there was a crack in his demeanor. He averted his eyes for a moment and stared at the computer screen.
Lucy said, “I know this is difficult for you. We are very sorry for your loss.”
Smith nodded. “I need to call the staff. When are you releasing the information?”
“The congresswoman asked that we let her do it,” Barry said. “We advised her to do it today before the press does it first.”
“I’ll call Adeline and work with her. And Jolene—does she know yet?”
“Adeline called her,” Lucy said.
“On the phone? I guess she’s still in Dallas. Does Scott know?”
“Who’s Scott?” Barry asked.
“Jolene’s husband. He’s a surgeon here in town, but if he’s not on call he usually travels with Jolene. I’ll call him.”
“Mr. Worthington’s cell phone is also missing,” Barry said.
Smith frowned. “That’s not good. I changed his password, but I’m more concerned about his emails. I can erase the phone remotely, but they may have already pulled down what they need—” He snapped his fingers. “Was this a robbery? We have GPS on all our phones.”
“That would be helpful,” Barry said.
Smith typed again on his computer. “I sent a note to our tech chief, he’ll take care of any security issues related to the phone and determine its location. It shouldn’t take long.”
“I appreciate your cooperation,” Barry said.
“Then tell me this—why do you think Harper was with a prostitute?”
“I can’t share the details of an active investigation,” Barry said. “Suffice it to say, there is both a reliable witness and physical evidence that Mr. Worthington was with a prostitute last night.”
Smith shook his head. “I understand that you’re doing your job, and I will do mine and ensure that no sensitive information has been compromised. But I want to make something perfectly clear: Harper Worthington was a good man who ran a good business. He would never enlist the services of a prostitute. And I sincerely hope you do everything in your power to protect his reputation. Not just for his company, but for his family. If what you say is true, that Harper flew into San Antonio last night, then you need to find out why. Because it sure as hell wasn’t to have sex with a hooker.”
* * *
Debbie Alexander, Harper’s administrative assistant, met Lucy and Barry in the outer office of