Page 5 of Targeted at Christmas

Once outside, he got on his cell phone and relayed what he had just learned to Amelia. “Eckhart was listed as a John Doe—delaying his identification and connecting the dots with our bribery case.”

“I see,” she said thoughtfully. “So, was it a fatal carjacking?”

“Yes and no,” Cooper answered, considering the question. “I suspect that the carjacking may have been a ruse meant to disassociate it with the public corruption investigation.”

Amelia breathed into the phone. “If so, then the bribery case has just elevated itself into a homicide investigation.”

“That’s my way of thinking,” he agreed. “Until proven otherwise.” He would keep an open mind, though, while Hallie Flores conducted her own murder investigation. “Let’s just see where this goes,” Cooper threw out, knowing that the special agent in charge could pull the plug on the case with Eckhart dead—but believed she wanted to see it through, like himself.

“Okay,” Amelia told him without preface, and offered a vote of confidence. “Take it wherever you need to in order to properly close this case of public corruption. Or delve deeper, if necessary—”

“You’ve got it,” he promised, before disconnecting the phone.

Inside his Dodge Durango, Cooper left the police department parking lot and drove off. On Seventh Avenue, he passed by downtown construction well under way for a major revitalization of the area. It was the most recent development project that Horace Eckhart had approved at least part of, but would never get to see completed next year.

Cooper turned his attention to Lexi De La Garza, an architect whose name had surfaced in several commercial developments that Eckhart oversaw in his capacity as a senior building inspector in making sure these were up to code—or not—on the various required fronts—including electrical, mechanical, plumbing, etc., in relation to the approved plans and permits.

With Eckhart dead, it was time to pay her a visit and see what information she could provide as far as his possible solicitation of funds from her—or vice versa—in order to receive favorable treatment. And see to what extent, if any, she may have been involved in Eckhart’s criminal activity.

Or, for that matter, whether Lexi De La Garza was in any way a party to Eckhart’s murder.

Chapter Two

Lexi De La Garza was slightly on edge as she stood at the head of the wooden rectangular meeting table in the conference room of the architectural studio she’d opened four years ago on West Campbell Avenue with her husband, Jonathan De La Garza. She winced at the thought that they had barely begun to get their feet wet in Arizona architecture and development when disaster struck. Two years ago, Jonathan, an avid jogger, was killed by a distracted hit-and-run driver while jogging along the side of the road in Phoenix. He was just thirty-one.

It had shattered her world. They had met when both were juniors, attending the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor—when she was still Lexi Narvaez, of Puerto Rican descent, with him being Mexican American—working toward their Bachelors of Science in Architecture from the Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning. After graduating, Jonathan had followed Lexi to Arizona, leaving their families behind in Michigan. They enrolled at the University of Arizona in Tucson, for their Masters of Science in Architecture from the College of Architecture, Planning and Landscape Architecture.

Upon graduating and becoming licensed architects, they did some freelance work for established architecture firms in the Phoenix metropolitan area before opening up their own architecture studio, De La Garza Architects. They specialized in the design of environmentally sound, high-quality commercial, retail, industrial, luxury residential and hospitality projects, and renovation of existing properties, along with boutique resorts and event venues.

It didn’t take long for them to begin racking up awards for their architectural work, including a prestigious American Institute of Architects Design Award from the AIA Arizona component, of which they were proud and active members, as part of the AIA Phoenix Metro, and an ICONIC design award for architecture.

But this all took a big hit when Jonathan was killed and Lexi was forced to go it alone. Though it had been anything but easy, she drew courage and strength from the firm belief that her late husband would have expected no less than for her to carry on with the mission, even without him.

And this was what Lexi had resolved herself to do. At thirty-three years old, she poured herself into offering her services alone as an architectural consultant to real estate developers and property owners. It was more than enough to keep her busy and grounded, when not jogging, swimming or working out at the gym to stay fit. Though no one else had come into her life romantically, as she was still a young woman, she was open to one day finding love again—were it ever to present itself—and maybe starting the family that she and Jonathan were cheated out of pursuing, once they had become established enough to commit to devoting the time and energy necessary to properly raise a family.

Lexi habitually tucked a few errant strands of her long brunette hair—in a curly blowout style with a center part—behind her ear. Tall and slender, she trained her deep brown eyes at the individuals seated in midback armchairs around the table that she was hoping to sell on her latest high concept for a housing development. Think positive, she told herself, favoring them with a confident smile.

Representing the Kenniston Group, a real estate development company, were Reese Kenniston, founder and president of developments, Terry Morikawa, senior project manager, and Jessalyn Cordero, a development associate.

Reese, thirty-seven, tall, perfectly proportioned, and gorgeous with crimson hair in a stylish layered bob and fiery green eyes behind oval glasses, was happily single and had become a friend to Lexi as one of her clients, after working on behalf of the Kenniston Group on several developments. Terry, who was Japanese, was in his early forties and slender, with black hair in a faux-hawk style; while Jessalyn was in her midtwenties, petite, with layered blond hair and short bangs.

Reese grinned and asked Lexi, “So, what do you have for us this morning?”

“Well, since you asked…” Lexi began lightheartedly, knowing she could get away with it in this instance, given their friendship. “In taking your vision and running with it, I have come up with what I believe effectively captures the concept for your new development in East Phoenix.” She grabbed the stylus pen and turned to the large touch-screen monitor, bringing her architectural design to the screen. “These drawings reflect what I think you had in mind as elegant, sleek, sophisticated and private housing, with open outside spaces that aptly incorporate the compelling desert landscape—” Lexi put up another drawing and three more after that, illustrating the different angles and dimensions.

“I love it!” Reese’s voice lifted exuberantly. “The designs really hit the spot, Lexi!”

“Glad you approve.” Lexi blushed while waiting for feedback from the other members of Reese’s team.

Terry’s brown eyes blinked in agreement. “Yeah, this is good and definitely something we can work with in the development project.”

Jessalyn’s blue eyes lit up. “Your designs do seem to capture the essence of what we were looking for.”

Lexi breathed a sigh of relief. Though confident in her abilities, she never took anything for granted as an architect. Or, for that matter, life in general. She put up a couple more sketches. “If there are any tweaks you want in the design, as always, I’m flexible and happy to work with you to refine them.”

“Good.” Reese flashed straight white teeth. “We’ll look these over carefully and see how it goes. But from where I sit, I don’t think there will be too much deviation, other than making sure they conform to the size of the property and number of units we want.”

“Of course.” Lexi smiled and cut off the monitor. She was already looking ahead at possible adjustments, as well as other projects on the docket, when a cell phone rang.