Scandal Never Sleeps Read Free Page B

substantial to stare at during the service. That’s what the coordinator said.” Gabe sighed.“The picture doesn’t count, and the urn is too small.”
    There was a large poster of Maddox in front of the empty coffin. He was dressed in a custom-made Brooks Brothers suit, smirking at the camera like a douchebag. But then, he’d always looked like that.
    Would his baby inherit that smirk? That never-ending thrill for life Mad had possessed?
    Damn you for leaving us behind. And damn you for what you did to my sister, but I fucking wish you were here.
    He sat on the pew, his brain buzzing. He’d gotten the news five days ago and it still hadn’t quite penetrated. He kept expecting to turn around and see Mad walking toward him with that damn smirk, drink in hand. It was wrong to consider someone as alive as Maddox Crawford dead.
    “Hey,” a familiar voice said. Gabe turned to find Connor, dressed in a button-down shirt and pressed slacks. Just another normal guy—except for the fact that Gabe knew he was Agency. The CIA had claimed Connor long ago, and any illusion of normalcy he donned was really a mask. “Sorry I’m late.”
    Gabe stood and put his hand out. Connor took it. “It’s good to see you.”
    It had been at least a year since they’d been in the same room. They kept up via e-mail and the occasional phone call where Connor never mentioned what country he was in. “You, too.”
    “Do you know anything about his death?” Gabe murmured. “Have you looked into the incident?”
    They all leaned in. Connor dealt in secrets. Oh, he might say he was simply an analyst, but there was no way Connor wasn’t an asset, as they would call him in the Agency. Even though they’d been friends for years, Connor had changed, become more distant, colder. Deadlier. No, Gabe didn’t buy that Connor sat in front of a computer. Connor got his hands dirty.
    “I don’t know anything, guys,” he said with an apologetic frown. “I’m sorry.”
    Roman shook his head. “It’s not a CIA matter. The FAA is handling it. Trust me, I’ve been up their ass about it. So has Zack.”
    “I called in my contacts,” Connor said. “They told me the investigation is in its early stages. They have the black box and they’recarefully probing the wreckage. There were reports of high winds in the area where he went down. The working theory is the plane hit a storm system and the pilot lost control.”
    Gabe had heard that theory. It was difficult to think that a storm had taken down Maddox Crawford. He’d been a force of nature himself. Mad should have been shot by a furious husband—or brother.
    “I promise, I’ll make sure you all get the final report,” Roman murmured. He nodded toward the aisle. “Is that who I think it is? What’s her name? Tavia?”
    Gabe looked up. A gorgeous blonde with killer cheekbones strode quickly toward the coffin. Mad had hired Tavia Gordon—and paid her well—to be his public relations guru. And he’d kept her hopping. From what Gabe could tell, Tavia had spent all her waking hours putting out the fires Mad had been prone to start. Though a bit tall and fashionably thin for his taste, she had a delicate, aristocratic face. No denying she was an icy beauty.
    He’d wondered more than once if Mad had thrown Sara over for Tavia. Because there must have been a woman. With Mad, there always had been. Had his buddy worked his playboy angle to throw the paparazzi off his PR Girl Friday/mistress so she wouldn’t be inundated? He’d wondered if Mad had been trying to protect Sara, but given the cruel way he’d cut her out of his life . . . Gabe gnashed his teeth. He couldn’t focus on that now or he’d think very ill of the dead.
    As Tavia dashed to her seat, she pulled a tissue out of her Gucci bag. He’d never seen her look less than perfect, but today her eyes were a bit puffy, her nose red.
    The pastor stepped out, and the great organ began a mournful dirge. The Mander Organ, one of the