Serial Date: A Leine Basso Thriller by D.V. Berkom Read Free Book Online

of the show's crew filed in. The air around them practically crackled from the group's excitement. Probably here to witness the execution, Peter thought.
    He pasted on a smile and stuck out his hand. “Senator, good to see you-”
    The senator came around to Peter's side of the desk and pulled a bottle of Dom Perignon from behind his back. Peter gazed at the champagne, confused. He looked into the senator's face, searching for clarity. A cigar the size of a porn star's money maker protruded from Runyon's fat, smiling lips. The senator must be doing Ecstasy again, Peter thought. It was the only thing that made sense.
    “Looks like you're way ahead of me, Pete, my boy. Isn't it fantastic? This has never happened in the history of reality television.” The senator's face possessed an ecstatic glow.
    Peter felt as though he was a bit player in some sort of dream sequence in a movie and didn't know his lines. He continued to look uncomprehendingly at the senator and the rest of the crew now crowded into his office. The stench from the trash can reached his nostrils and he rolled his chair closer to the senator.
    Runyon looked closely at Peter. “You haven't heard?”
    Peter shook his head.
    The senator glanced impatiently around the room. “Didn't someone at least text the poor schmuck?” His question was met with silence and shuffling feet.
    Runyon turned back to Peter and, grinning, opened his arms wide, almost cold-cocking one of the set gophers with the champagne bottle.
    “My boy, great news. We thought it couldn't get any better. The ratings are through the roof. It's unprecedented. Never before in television history has this happened.”
    Peter sat in stunned silence, trying to suck air back into his lungs.
    Senator Runyon handed the bottle of champagne to one of the crew members and told him to open it.
    Then he leaned in close to Peter and whispered, “This calls for a trip to Bountiful. My treat.”
     
    ***
     
    Jensen slipped out of the office before the senator cornered him. Nothing like an election year to make a politician willing to bond with law enforcement.
    He walked through the front doors and headed for the parking lot. He'd learned to trust his gut through years of dealing with both the guilty and the innocent. His instincts were going into claxon horn mode this time. It didn't fit. During the second interview before the arrest went down, Graber had confessed to having consensual sex with the victim the day before and that they'd planned to leave L.A. together as soon as the show's season ended. That explained Graber's semen inside Amanda Milton and why there were no signs of forcible rape.
    Graber had, in Jensen's opinion, exhibited the behavior of a man who had just heard the love of his life was murdered. He acted like he was in a daze, cooperated fully with the investigation and didn't immediately 'lawyer up,' even waived his rights. On top of that, the guy volunteered to take a polygraph test and passed it with flying colors. Putnam shrugged it off, arguing that Graber was a pathological liar with no conscience: lying didn't faze him, so wouldn't register on the test.
    After the arrest, when they spoke to him before going into surgery, Putnam asked why he'd run, Graber answered, “Because I know how it looks and it looks like I killed her. I'm an ex-felon. My cum was inside her, my DNA's on the towel. The fucking press is screaming for an arrest. What were my chances of getting a fair trial—or convincing a jury I didn't do it?”
    Putnam insisted Graber was merely a good actor. If he was acting, then Jensen figured he must be Academy Award material.
    He drove out of the parking lot and took a left. The balmy evening air ruffled his hair, temporarily distracting him. He thought of Leine Basso and wondered if he should call her and see if she was up for dinner, get his mind off of Graber for a little while. The one good thing about the arrest was that now he could work on getting Ms. Basso into