The Export J.K. Kelly (best way to read e books .TXT) 📖

runner’s body, she had run for president years before, but her gruff voice, a result of a bout with throat cancer, had made campaign speeches a struggle and consequently dissolved her hopes for the highest office in the land. Since then, she had sought a position in government that would keep her in the middle of the action.

“You’re home, and you haven’t called me, young man,” she protested to her nephew. “The next words out of your mouth better be that you’re asking me to dinner tonight!”

Matt laughed to himself. “Well, actually, as you already know, I just came from Capri’s office and need to get packed up and headed north, plus–”

“Don’t give me any of that bullshit, young man,” she insisted. “That boat and the girls can wait, and there’s plenty of beer where I’m taking you. You need to have dinner with me before I head west to the ranch.”

Matt slowed to a stop. He was fast on his feet but when it came to Aunt Helene, he needed to focus, or he’d wind up as roadkill in a crosswalk, literally.

“But Aunt–”

“Get in the car, young man,” she ordered, smiling through the half-opened window of the side door of her chauffeured black SUV as it stopped fast in front of him. He waved for the security agent riding shotgun to stay put, he’d get the door, and then they were off. The next stop would be at their favorite restaurant within the city on a side street close to Dupont Circle. It was a quiet spot with a rustic atmosphere but not frequented by many in her crowd. Mostly locals and the occasional tourists who stumbled across the place were the type of patrons Helene in particular would appreciate. No journalists, no lobbyists, no politicians, and rarely anyone with a badge. The two caught up over a round of drinks at the bar, Matt taking his time working a tall draft beer while his aunt enjoyed one Moscow Mule and then another. The host seated them at a corner table in the back of the restaurant that afforded them the quiet, and the privacy, to talk. For dinner, Matt ordered a medium-well filet mignon while his aunt had a craving for fresh Maine lobster.

*

She pushed Matt as they both grabbed for the last of the shrimp cocktail to drop everything and join her on her trip west but he took a pass on it. “Come on, when was the last time we just sat on that deck together and watched the Elk pass by?” she asked in an attempt to set the hook. Matt smiled at her as he laid his hand on hers. “It’s been too long and I promise I will come out as soon as I get a few things cleaned up. I promise. By the way, did you forget you were the one who signed me up for my babysitting job up north?”

She laughed. “Young man, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Matt just smiled back. As their dinners arrived she paused until the servers left them to it.

“It’s amazing how quickly the jury came back with that verdict yesterday,” Coleman said as she drowned her baked potato in butter. Matt didn’t respond and remained focused on the steak he was preparing to devour. She continued.

“I’m hearing he’ll get twenty years.” Matt looked up from his plate with a grin.

“Dear boy,” Coleman said softly. “I buried your father but have no intention of burying his son. Tread softly, if you had anything to do with that investigation.” Matt placed his fork on the plate and began working on his beer.

“The AG of the United States should be clean. Yes, they barter and make deals just like mine but he was dirty, dirtier than most.” He paused and finished his drink, nodding to the waiter for another. “Someone must have leaked that file to that reporter and once the snowball started rolling nothing could stop it.”

Coleman stared at her nephew and reached across the table placing her hand on his. “Just remember what I said. You’ll be able to work here again someday, when the timing is right, just don’t muck it up.”

After dinner, she directed her driver to drop Matt off at his condo and then head to Reagan National for a flight to her sprawling horse ranch in the foothills of the Grand Teton mountain range. Before climbing out of the SUV, Matt unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over to give his aunt yet another bear hug and a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You just take care of yourself and don’t eat too many of those damn crepes up there!”

As the SUV drove away, Matt smiled and gave her a wave. He took two steps toward his building’s lobby but stopped and turned toward the lights and sounds of the marina just a few minutes’ walk away. He stopped at the first open-air bar he came to, bought a beer, and then headed for his sanctuary. Sliding his key card into the gate lock, he strolled the remaining 50 feet along the dock to Bella. Sitting on the stern, Matt looked up at the stars and thought back to those spectacular nights near the top of the world at the Everest Base Camp.

Wonder if Amir ever tracked down that killer? he thought to himself and then took the last sip of his third beer taken from the well-stocked galley the boat’s attendant always maintained. He hadn’t heard from the homicide detective from Kathmandu and swore to himself he’d reach out to him soon. Still can’t get how someone can trek all that way, roll in the hay, slam an ax in the guy’s head, and then disappear without a trace. Wish I hadn’t been so screwed up up there. I would like to have worked the case better.

He had purchased Bella a few years earlier after spending time in the Caribbean on one just like her, perfect for partying,