Part 54 (1/2)

He suggested that they meet with Dom at Gage's fis.h.i.+ng shack on one of the bayous later in the morning.

”I didn't know you had a cabin.”

”It's not a cabin. It's a shack.”

”Okay, I didn't know you had a shack,” she admitted, wondering whether he was just trying to divert her from a very bad yesterday.

”There's lots you don't know about me,” he said with a hint of defiance.

”I'll grant you that,” she said.

”I just think we shouldn't be seen with Dom,” he said.

”No arguments here. I want to see your shack.”

He called Dom on his cell phone and gave him directions.

Meredith watched as he put his canoe from the backyard on top of his vehicle. Two people getting away from problems.

Two hours later, they arrived, but not until Gage was sure they weren't followed.

The shack was exactly that. Minimal furnis.h.i.+ngs. A double bed, one big easy chair that was slightly torn. An unsteady table, some mismatched chairs. A small refrigerator and stove that ran on a generator. Meredith smiled. ”You're right. It is a shack.”

”It's a good place to use when I'm canoeing,” he said. ”But I do have a telephone line and modem. I sometimes come here to work and think.”

Dom arrived an hour later and viewed the interior with furrowed eyebrows. ”Didn't know you were a swamp rat.”

Gage waved one hand toward the table and its mismatched chairs.

Meredith watched as he led the meeting. He ran through the list of those men who had attended the funeral, and crossed some off immediately if they didn't have children of the right age.

Dom recognized many of those who had attended the funeral and suggested knocking two more of them off the list. One of them, he knew, had two sons, no daughters. Another had lost his only child in an accident three years earlier. She'd been twenty-two.

Using the modem and his laptop, Gage then accessed the newspaper files on-line, searching one name after another, learning what they could about each one. Through news stories, they were able to eliminate seven more names of men who had been featured in various articles with their families.

They were down to seven names.

They zeroed in on those with a more detailed search. Another two were eliminated. That left five.

Two were prominent attorneys, one was an executive with an insurance company and a major contributor to charities in the city, one was Judge Samuel Matthews, and the last was the owner of one of New Orleans's premier restaurants.

Meredith almost asked Gage to cross out Judge Matthews. He was a state supreme court justice and one of the finest legal minds in Louisiana. Meredith had respected him for years. He had been reelected by a huge margin each time he stood for another term.

She also saw surprise on both Gage's and Dom's faces at his inclusion on their thinning list.

”It couldn't be,” she said.

”He definitely would have a lot to lose,” Gage said.

”So would the others, if murder was involved,” she countered.

”True.”

Dom studied the name for a long time. ”His daughter is married to Randolph Ames, who is running for Congress. I attended a fund-raiser the other night for him. I hate the darn things, but some of my sponsors thought I should go since grants would go through his office.”

”Was Matthews's daughter there?”

”No. I thought it was a little strange at the time. It was one of those affairs at which the candidate wants to show off his family values.” Irony laced his last words. ”Ames did say that she regretted not being there but that she was across the country, caring for an ill friend.”

Meredith watched as Gage searched on Randolph Ames. A campaign website appeared as an option. A click.

She stared at the congressional candidate. He was a handsome man, but she already knew that. He, too, was an attorney and they had crossed paths more than once at Bar a.s.sociation functions. She had never faced him in a courtroom, though. He did have a good reputation.

She also knew she'd probably met his wife at some function or another, but she couldn't remember any particulars.

”Try to find a photo of the wife,” she said.

Gage clicked on one of the options on the website, and a photo of Ames, his wife, Holly, and a boy of about four appeared. A slight smile was on the mother's face as she looked down at her son, love glowing in her face.

Her stomach knotted and a suffocating sensation tightened her throat. Holly Ames's hair was the color of honey, deeper than that of Meredith's mother, but the clear blue eyes and delicate bone structure were similar.

Gage saw it, too. She saw the recognition in his eyes. The woman in this photo bore a strong similarity to the young Maggie in the photo, far more than Meredith did to her mother. Without looking for a connection, though, Meredith might not have caught it. Many people have look-alikes. Blue eyes were common enough, and so was blond hair. And the appearance of bone structure was often affected by hairstyle. Her mother had short hair; the woman in the photo had long hair.

She looked at Dom, who was staring intently at the screen. A muscle throbbed in his throat.

”Dom?”

He raised his face. Stared at her for a moment. ”It could be her,” he finally said in a choked voice.

The others agreed.

”Keep looking,” Meredith said.

He scrolled down until he found an announcement of the state senator's candidacy for a congressional seat. The wife was not pictured. The story mentioned she was out of town to care for a sick relative.

”Something's wrong,” Meredith said. ”I've been around politics all my life, and I know how important a family is, especially in a congressional race. She should be at his side, particularly during the announcement.”

He scrolled down the news articles about Ames again, and they read them all, including photo captions. No Mrs. Ames.

”That's very odd,” Meredith said. ”There's even a photo of him at the symphony ball. She should be there.”

”Maybe there's a perfectly good reason,” Gage said, trying to be the devil's advocate.

”Let's find her,” Meredith said.

”We could be wrong,” Gage reminded them all. ”It's conjecture. There's no proof other than facial similarity and coincidences.”

”I'll try to contact her,” Dom said. ”I could use the shelter as a pretext. Invite her to be on my board.”

Gage shook his head. ”You shouldn't be involved now. No one knows that you're working with us. I would like to keep it that way. And think of the shelter. Those kids need you.”