by Meryl Sawyer
David dropped into the chair opposite Justin’s desk, and the pup obediently sat down beside him. “Do you think they’re together or something?”
“Nothing would surprise me,” Justin said with a weary smile. “But I don’t think so. I spoke with the state trooper who spotted Kat’s car. He said only one person was in it.”
“Did he ID Kat?”
“He didn’t get a good look. He just saw it was one person—female—driving more slowly than usual. That’s when he ran a check on her license.”
“I’m worried about Kat. I think she’d call me—”
“How long have you known her?” Like Justin, David had been gullible for a pretty face and a sob story.
“I haven’t known Kat long,” David admitted, “but I—”
“Exactly. I’ve asked a judge in Jackson to issue a search warrant for Kat’s studio. I also want to see the phone records for the Trib and her cell. If she called Elmer, we’ll find out.”
Their eyes held each other’s for a moment, and Justin could see how badly wounded Noyes was by Kat’s behavior.
“Cloris Howard keeps dodging me,” David finally said, breaking the silence. “Were you able to interview her?”
“Yes. I spoke with her just after the bank opened. Bitner never mentioned Kat’s call. Cloris seemed stunned that he would go out to the riverboat to see anyone. His church was death on gambling, liquor—the whole riverboat scene. Cloris is determined to help catch Bitner’s killer. The bank is offering a five-thousand dollar reward for info leading to the killer’s arrest.”
Deputy Lancaster burst through the door. “The mayor’s here, sir.”
Mayor Peebles pushed by the deputy into the room. “I need to talk to you,” Peebles said in a coolly impersonal tone as if he were speaking to some clerk in his office.
David stood up. “I was just going.” He hustled his puppy out of the office. The deputy nodded to Justin and followed David out.
Justin’s temper had flared at Peebles’ tone, but he refused to allow his emotions to show. Peebles was a politician, bound for the state capital or even Washington. Unsolved murders in his town couldn’t be tolerated.
Peebles took David’s seat. “I just had Judge Kincaid, Buck Mason, and Reverend Applegate in my office, howling for your blood. Is it true that you’ve refused to arrest Kat Wells?”
“We can’t find her,” Justin countered, seething but struggling not to show it. “But if we could locate her, we haven’t sufficient grounds for an arrest. There’s no evidence she was at the crime scene.”
The primal glint in Peebles’ dark eyes indicated what a fearsome competitor he’d been—and still was. He didn’t easily take no for an answer. “HP reported her car on the road to the casino.”
“But not at the casino.” As calmly as he could manage, he added, “Being on the road is not a crime. We want to question her, of course. She’s a person of interest in the case.”
“I’d say she’s a prime suspect,” Peebles shot back, the cold edge of irony in his voice. “Who else would want to kill Elmer Bitner? He never harmed a fly, but he did testify against that woman.”
“True,” Justin conceded. “Her disappearance makes me very suspicious. We have an APB out on her and the Toyota. So far—nothing.”
“Buck says he had to tell you that Elmer was meeting the Wells woman at the riverboat. You didn’t know.”
Justin reached under the desk with one hand and petted Redd. He waited a beat before explaining. “How was I supposed to find out? When I interviewed Elmer’s wife, she didn’t mention it.”
Peebles shifted his bulky frame in the chair. “Bitner met Buck at Rebel Roost and told him about the meeting.”
Justin understood what Peebles was doing. A politician to the core, he was trying to please everyone. No doubt, Kincaid and Mason had ratcheted up the pressure on Peebles, hoping to get rid of Justin.
“I went to see Ida Lou Bitner just after the body was found. Gossip flies around this town. I didn’t want her hearing about Elmer’s death from some old biddy over the phone,” Justin explained, keeping his tone even with an effort. “As soon as she told me Elmer had gone to meet Buck, I went to interview him.”
“You did the right thing.” Peebles sighed. “Buck just has a hard-on for you. And the judge—”
“Doesn’t want Kat around. It could hurt his political plans.”
“You’re right,” Peebles admitted. “He keeps squawking about leaving cons in prison where they belong. He’s tuning up for the election. He wants her back in jail.”
Justin didn’t tell him that being out of touch with her handler, not reporting to work, and a number of other things—not to mention murder—would get Kat’s furlough revoked. Apparently, the men weren’t familiar with work furlough rules. “Crime is a hot button. Two murders in six months defies the odds. We went years without a homicide. Could be coincidence, but I don’t buy it. The crimes are linked somehow.”
“I guess you would have called me if you’d found the murder weapon.”
Yeah, right. Keeping the mayor posted wasn’t a top priority. “We dragged the river. Nothing. But with the current, the gun could have been washed downstream. My men searched the woods around the Lucky Seven. Nothing there, either.”
“What about clues at the scene? Footprints or something.”
“There were lots of footprints. They all appeared to be men’s shoes. The guys who discovered the body tramped around pretty good. I doubt we’ll get a usable shoe print.” With a shake of his head, Justin added, “The crime techs didn’t find much either.”
“The murderer had to have driven out there. Walking to the casino is out of the question.” The mayor rose. “I guess the perp could have come by boat.”
“No way. The kudzu vines have choked off the shore. It costs the casino a bundle to keep their pier open.”
It all came back to Kat, Justin thought. Motive and opportunity.
IT WAS ALMOST MIDNIGHT before Justin’s deputy returned from Jackson with a search warrant signed by a judge. Justin could have saved time by going to Kincaid, but he didn’t want the prick horning in on his case and telling him what to do—or worse—using information against him.
The phone records would have to wait until morning when the telephone company in Jackson opened for business. Justin took two deputies with him to Kat’s studio. The place was so small that he could have searched it on his own easily, but he wanted witnesses.
He was determined to find Kat and get to the bottom of this. She’d used a lot of good people, gotten them to trust her. Justin burned with frustration. She could be miles away by now, and he wouldn’t be the one to collar her. Still, there might be a clue in her place to tell him where she’d gone. He’d take off after her even if it meant leaving his jurisdiction.
David Noyes was sitting in his T-Bird with his puppy when Justin drove up. Justin cursed under his breath. Noyes did not know when to give up. He’d become way too attached to Kaitlin Wells.
David stepped out of his car. “You’ve obtained a search warrant.”
“Yes, and tomorrow we’ll be looking at the phone records.”
The older man’s brow knit into a tight frown. “You might want to get a warrant for Elmer’s phone records—at the bank and at home.”
“Why’s that?”
“I spoke with Connie, my copy editor, after I left you. She says Kat received a call from a man yesterday afternoon.”
“Okay, so? Could have been the guy monitoring her furlough or something.”
“Connie thought it was Bitner. She knows him.”
For a moment, doubts swirled through Justin’s brain. Don’t go there, the reasonable part of his conscience thought. Rely on the facts. On the force in New Orleans, he’d learned to cleave his emotions from cold reality. Don’t become any more involved than you already are, an inner voice warned him.
“If Bitner’s number doesn’t turn up on Kat’s phone or the Trib’s, I’ll check Bitn
er’s phone records. But why would he call Kat? I spoke with him earlier in the day. He didn’t want to have anything to do with her.”
Noyes shrugged. “We’re missing something important. I can feel it.”
“Why don’t you go home? This will take us some time.”
Noyes leaned against his car. “I’ll wait and walk Max. I’m betting you don’t find anything.”
DAVID WAS STIFF from sitting in the car so long. These days he had more than just a touch of arthritis. He sluggishly strolled down the street, letting Max sniff at will. The pup was curious about everything and not particularly interested in doing his business. The muggy air was still heavy from the earlier rain. The scent of azaleas mixed with the fragrance of jasmine, but David was too stricken with anxiety about Kat to really notice. Unanswered questions twisted through his mind.
What would make Kat simply vanish? She seemed so interested in being a reporter, so eager to have a second chance at life. He remembered the way her green eyes narrowed when she was concentrating on writing copy. It didn’t seem reasonable that she would blow her opportunity by killing Elmer Bitner.
He believed Connie was correct. The woman rarely made any mistakes. Elmer had called Kat. Why? What could he want with her? Why meet in the dark out by the riverboat when no one would be around?
He turned and gazed up at Kat’s studio. Justin had forced the lock and entered the apartment. The lights were blazing. With a pang of sympathy, he imagined them rifling through Kat’s things. After years in prison and a meager furlough allowance, she couldn’t have much.
“Come home, Kat,” he muttered. His breath hitched. “I’ll help you.”
From a nearby tree, an owl hooted once, twice. David waited in the darkness, still perplexed by what had happened. He slowly turned and headed Max back toward All Washed Up.
The lights went off in Kat’s studio above the shop. That was a fast search, David thought. He waited beside Justin’s pickup. Redd stuck his head out the window, inviting David to pet him for the first time. He usually cowered under Justin’s desk or hid behind his legs.
“Good boy.” He stroked the dog’s head. Max jumped up against his knees and pawed him, begging to be petted, too. He stroked the puppy with his other hand.
He spotted Justin striding across the street. The gas lamp at the corner was a quaint touch but provided little light on a moonless evening. Justin had something in his hand, but David couldn’t see what it was.
“Find anything?”
Justin stopped a few feet away from David. “Off the record?”
David’s heart rapped against his ribs like an unanswered knock, and he managed a nod.
“We found a thirty-eight hidden in the trunk she uses for a coffee table.” He held up a plastic bag with a gun in it.
A wild flash of grief and disappointment ripped through David. Elmer Bitner had been shot with a thirty-eight. It was a moment before he could muster the strength to ask, “Why would she hide a gun, then disappear? Why wouldn’t she throw it away?”
“Don’t you think the answer is obvious?”
Justin asked the question with a grin, but David could see Justin was just as disturbed and disappointed as he was. He was romantically involved with Kat. This couldn’t be a cakewalk for him.
“She didn’t think anyone knew she was meeting Elmer,” continued Justin. “How would we have known, if he hadn’t told Buck Mason?”
David nodded, not trusting his voice. He felt his throat constricting as if he’d swallowed a bale of cotton. Right now he felt like an old fool with one foot in the grave and the other close behind.
Justin said emphatically, “Something or someone tipped her. She hightailed it without returning for the gun. But I believe Kat hid the gun because she thought she might need it again.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IT WAS ONE O’CLOCK in the morning when Tori heard her doorbell ring. She was online, checking the requirements for a Georgia real estate license. She dreaded the hassle of studying for the exam, finding a broker to work for, and developing clientele all over again. What choice did she have? She was through here, thanks to her sister.
She rose from the workstation in the small home office on the first floor of her condo. A quick peek out the window revealed Clay’s silver Porsche Boxster at the curb. She’d tried to reach him all day, but he hadn’t returned her calls. She knew she would have to get over him. That, besides burying her mother, would be the most difficult part of leaving. She would be giving up on a dream she’d had since high school. She would never be Mrs. Clay Kincaid.
Everything in her body went slack at the thought. She considered not answering the door. What would be the point in prolonging her agony? The bell rang again, a long, sustained buzzzzzzzzz that told her Clay was leaning on the bell.
She walked out of her office and down the hall to the front door. She would have to sell her condo, she realized. Her mother’s, too. It would be months at least, before she could leave. She certainly couldn’t move until her mother passed away.
A thought hit her. Did her mother have a will? She’d assumed so, but she should have found out before now. If she didn’t have a will, the estate—small as it was—would have to go through probate and Kat would receive half. She would squander it on attorney’s fees.
Tori threw open the door and found Clay grinning at her.
“Hey, babe,” he said, his breath thick with Johnnie Walker. He moseyed into the living room, dropped onto the sofa, and waited for her to turn on the lamp.
She flicked on the light without a word. Clay was shitfaced. He’d been drinking and hadn’t bothered to respond to her frantic calls. She’d never seen herself as a weak woman. She’d sacrificed so much for this man. But where he’d been concerned, she now realized that she’d been a simpering Southern belle, waiting at his pleasure.
With a stab of anger, she mentally kicked herself. Once. Twice. It hit her that Kat’s years in prison had transformed her into a stronger woman, while Tori had become weaker by trying to please Clay and the self-important Kincaids. What had she been thinking?
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
He patted the seat beside him, saying, “I wanted to have something positive to tell you.”
“What could be positive about this situation?” Tori sat next to Clay. “My sister is a prime suspect in a murder.”
“I just left Dad’s place.”
The only time Clay called his father “Dad” was when he’d been drinking and the judge wasn’t around. Otherwise, he called him “Father.” In front of people he wanted to impress, he referred to him as “the judge.” Had he ever called his father Daddy? She dismissed the ridiculous thought.
“Dad got a call. A search of your sister’s apartment turned up a gun. They’ll have to run tests, but everyone knows it’s the murder weapon.”
Tori didn’t bother to say anything. She would only have to live with this nightmare until she could move to Atlanta. But her mother was another story. She was already weak, near collapse. The endless humiliation Kat rained down on them would kill her.
Clay grabbed Tori and crushed her to him, his lips claiming hers. The expensive whiskey on his tongue swirled through her mouth. A pleasant taste, well-remembered over the years. Her body warmed in response but she told herself to forget it. They were history. She shoved out of his arms.
“Babe, things are going to be all right.” Clay gave her a smile that was borderline evil. She’d seen it before and knew he was up to something. “This is going to be a win-win for all of us.”
The Kincaids always came out on the winning side. Her family had been nothing but losers. She’d tried her best, but nothing had changed her luck.
“Dad gave me this.” Clay reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. He picked up her left hand and slipped it on Tori’s ring finger.
“What?” She stared down at an old-fashioned ring that was several sizes too
big. The center stone was a diamond so small that a magnifying glass wouldn’t help make it much larger. Clustered around the stone were diamond chips the size of pinheads. At least they glittered a little.
“Great-grandmother Swain’s engagement ring,” Clay said with unmistakable pride. “Dad got it out of the safe just a little while ago.”
Tears welled up in Tori’s eyes. Wait until her mother saw the ring. Never mind that it wasn’t the impressive diamond Tori coveted. She had a Kincaid heirloom on her finger. Her mother could die in peace, knowing Tori would become a Kincaid.
“Now it’s official.” Clay pressed a sweet kiss into the palm of her ring hand. “We’re engaged.”
Engaged. She could finally say the word and flaunt her ring, the way dozens of her friends had over the years. She’d waited so long for this moment.
Hold it, she thought, staring at the ring on her finger. Why had the judge agreed to this engagement? Her name was now synonymous with scandal.
She swallowed with difficulty and found her voice. “I’m surprised your father agreed to let us marry, considering the mess my sister’s caused.”
His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “Your sister has given Dad a tremendous opportunity.”
Warning bells clanged in her brain. A heavy silence hung in the air. Nobody’s fool, Tori knew there was a downside to this.
“You see, Dad’s hired a high-priced political consultant. Rob Everett is the best. He helped the President carry the South. Rob says people are interested in law and order and moral values. Dad can get a lot of free publicity by coming out against work furloughs. Cons should do their time.”
Great. Just great. She was being used by the judge to further his career. She smiled smoothly, betraying none of her annoyance. Did it really matter? She was going to be Clay’s wife.
“He’s planning a news conference. We’ll be at his side. Dad’s going to say how devastating it is to a family when one of their own commits a crime.”
“We’re only half sisters,” Tori reminded him.