Page 96 of Booked for Murder

“Like garnering a better reputation,” Meridian stated, and she tossed her pen onto the table. “Donors and sponsors also are more inclined to give more money if a politician at least pretends they’re on the right side of the ethical line. The ethical people rarely make it far into politics because they’re unwilling to get their hands dirty, so they lose early in local elections. Most of them never make it beyond securing county seats of some sort—if they win county seats at all. Usually, the highest they go is town or city, and more likely town than city.”

“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “I’m allergic to politics.”

Meridian shrugged. “You’re just going to have to deal with it, Janette. This entire case reeks of politics, and the only way we can win the game is if we understand how it’s played.”

“This game sucks,” I muttered, leaning so I could glare at my foot, which barred me from doing anything I wanted, including run away to regroup, think, and enjoy some privacy. “What will be my job at this rally?”

Bradley’s mother returned to her seat. “Mingle, get as close as you can to the senator, and watch the crowd. Make note of anyone who is behaving oddly. There’ll be a weapons checkpoint, so you’ll be without a firearm. I will look the other way if you happen to forget to wear your disruptor for the duration of the rally, and I’ll make sure the hospital is aware you’ll be helping yourself breathe better while you’re doing an outdoor activity to help strengthen the rest of your body.”

I had to give Bradley’s mother credit; she could play just about anyone like an instrument. The doctors would approve the disruptor being removed for a short period of time for the sake of exercise and time spent outdoors, both of which were believed to be conventional treatment plans even more potent than magic and medicine. Most of the time, I wanted to snap at those who held the belief exercise could fix anything.

Exercise couldn’t fix a bum foot or critically damaged lungs. I’d been there and done that, but I’d play along with the misconception.

The last thing any of us needed was discovering if my limited magic did play any part with my current ability to breathe.

“And what will I be doing?” Bradley asked.

“You’ll be going where Janette can’t. You’ll be able to call and text each other to check in, but otherwise, you should pretend you’re not with her. Mingle with the crowds she can’t mesh into all that well, especially not right now. If you feel absolutely compelled to annoy her, do so in such a fashion where casual observers will think you’re just being kind.”

“I’m with Janette. This game sucks.”

“You’re just going to have to deal with it, Bradley. The rally starts at eight in the morning, and people will start getting in line at six or earlier. You should arrive before Janette, although depending on how they’re handling the event, she may beat you inside, especially if they’re trying to garner favor among the disabled.”

“How, precisely, am I supposed to get to the rally without him?” I asked. “The wheelchair isn’t precisely easy to move around, especially not in that area.”

“You’ll take a cab from your apartment,” Bradley’s mother replied. “That’ll give you a chance to rest at your own home tonight.”

“What about my cat? She’s at your place in the Hamptons.”

“I’ll enjoy brushing her more than I should,” the woman replied with a smug smile.

Evil woman. “Don’t steal my cat. I like my cat.”

“You’ll see her right after the rally. Don’t worry about Ajani. She’ll be happy shedding all over my house, and she’ll survive a night without you.”

“But are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

While I wanted to kick and scream over the situation, I settled with a grunt, crossed my arms, and leaned back in my chair. “How are we going to be collecting data?”

Meridian grinned. “We were talking about this before you arrived this morning. Kitting you for this adventure will be Mickey’s job. Tonight, he’ll wire your wheelchair with a recording system, which he’ll hide with a combination of magic and careful disguising. There will be a few cameras and several sound recorders, which will be hidden in the wheelchair itself. Since your wheelchair is metal, they’ll use visual checks to make sure you’re not armed. Bring a few books with you, along with your medications in your purse. They’re allowing electronics, so Mickey will set up your bag to help disguise things. If you’re okay with it, he’d like to add a micro camera to your glasses.”

I pulled off my glasses and squinted at the frame. “How can he do that?”

“They’re really small, and he’ll disguise the camera and microphone with rhinestones. The camera will link to your phone, which will allow you to control when you start and stop recording. The recordings will automatically upload to an external server. It will record in five minute segments, which will be temporarily stored on your phone until it’s uploaded. As soon as dinner is over, he’ll go buy all the supplies he needs.”

While I hated being out of the loop, I appreciated how much work everyone had done without me. “Okay. And Bradley?”

“He’ll be too hard to wire, unfortunately. He’ll undergo a lot more scrutiny than you will.”

Of course he would. While Bradley’s mother didn’t count him as conventionally handsome, he fit comfortably in the hot category—at least to me. And possibly Meridian. And any woman with a single functioning brain cell in her head. I regarded him through narrowed eyes, wondering if his usual choice of suit added to his appeal factor.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that, but I’m worried,” Bradley admitted.

“She’s trying to decide if she likes you better in or out of your clothes,” his mother replied.

Great. His mother had gone into matchmaking mode, and she meant to embarrass me to death long before I could sign any betrothal documents. “Does any man actually look good completely out of their clothes? I’ve always found shirtless while wearing good slacks or jeans to be better than only in underwear,” I countered. “Men’s legs aren’t all that pretty.”