Page 29 of Targeted at Christmas

On Friday afternoon, Lexi invited Cooper to accompany her to a groundbreaking ceremony for a mixed-use development in downtown Phoenix, near the thriving Roosevelt Row Arts District. The dual real estate developers partnering for the project—which would comprise more than fifty thousand square feet of office, retail, restaurant and residential space—were the Kenniston Group and Wolftyn Senmoore Developments. She was one of several architects in on the design, including her friend, Pamela Rennick.

Lexi introduced her to Cooper. “Pamela and I attended U of A together and we’ve been friends ever since.”

“Cool.” Cooper grinned and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Pamela.”

“You, too,” she said, offering a smile.

Lexi was sure that she would need to satisfy Pamela’s curiosity about Cooper. And would be happy to do so—eager to share news about her romantic involvement with the FBI agent who had awakened new desires within her. But that would have to wait as they turned to the podium, where Mayor Toni Alonso—fortysomething and medium-sized with a dark blonde A-line bob and square glasses—was starting to speak about the massive development project.

Standing beside her was Jarrod Inzunza, the managing partner for Wolftyn Senmoore Developments, who was next to his wife, Brooke Inzunza. Jarrod, tall and handsome in his early fifties, had brown hair in a curtain cut, gray eyes, and was smooth-shaven. Brooke, on the other hand, around the same age, was petite and thin with fiery long, wavy red hair and blue eyes. Lexi thought they made a cute couple. She was sure others would see her and Cooper the same way once they went public with it, now that things had begun to heat up between them.

Lexi glanced at members of the city council in attendance, along with Gilbert Jacquin, the City of Phoenix’s special projects administrator, and senior project manager Terry Morikawa and development associate Jessalyn Cordero of the Kenniston Group. Turning to Cooper, Lexi smiled and said with appreciation, “Thanks for coming.”

He grinned back at her and responded, “Happy to do so. This is your world and I’m glad to be a part of it. Not to mention, the more developments in town and revenue and investments generated from it—the better for everyone.”

“I agree,” she said, and mused reluctantly, except where it concerns greed, bribery—and even murder.

“So do I,” Pamela seconded with enthusiasm. “All roads in architecture have to begin somewhere. This is a prime example of that.”

Lexi flashed her teeth. “Sounds like someone with skin in the game.”

Pamela chuckled. “Guilty as charged.”

Cooper said with amusement, “Looks like the moment everyone has been waiting for—”

They watched as the mayor, Jarrod, Terry and Gilbert—all wearing hard hats—used ceremonial ground-breaking shovels to dig into the soft dirt, with local dignitaries and others in attendance cheering them on.

AFTER LEXI HITCHED a ride home with Pamela, Cooper headed out to the Phoenix Children’s Hospital on East Thomas Road, where he was meeting with Special Agent Frank Magistretti. Frank had learned that Mitzi Roscorla, the building inspector who took over Horace Eckhart’s assignments, had a sick daughter who was being treated for a blood disorder. The concern was that Mitzi, under financial pressure for the treatment, might be vulnerable to exploitation by the same crooked unsub or unsubs in the construction industry who latched on to Eckhart.

Cooper hoped they might stop her from doing something she might regret—for the sake of her daughter, Kristen. And if the building inspector had been approached by someone, they wanted to know who it was, when and where.

Coming upon Frank in the lobby, Cooper asked, “Where is Mitzi now?”

“With her daughter,” he replied. “From what I understand, she visits Kristen every day around this time before heading back to work.”

Just as Cooper was wondering if they should wait and question her on the job or at home, they spotted the building inspector as she entered the lobby.

“Let’s see if she’s been compromised,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yeah—and if so, by whom,” Frank concurred as they approached her.

Cooper had already removed his badge and credentials when he asked, “Mitzi Roscorla?”

Mitzi regarded him, ill at ease. “Yes?”

“FBI Special Agent Reid and this is Special Agent Magistretti,” Cooper told her. “I wonder if we could have a word with you?”

“May I ask what this is about?” she questioned.

“Horace Eckhart,” he replied, as a basis for any potential culpability on her part.

“Uh…okay,” Mitzi responded tentatively, meeting his steady gaze.

Frank looked at her. “Why don’t we find somewhere to sit—”

They went to the cafeteria on the main floor, and sat in chairs around a small circular table.

Cooper peered at the building inspector and, without prelude, said tersely, “We’re investigating public corruption allegedly perpetrated by Horace Eckhart, which I’m sure you’ve been made aware of?”