by Rita Herron
“I take it you know who I am.” Judge Wexler extended his hand to shake Sam’s, then John’s.
The judge’s confident swagger boasted of arrogance. The dark mahogany paneling gave his chambers a richness that spoke of money, and a huge desk dominated the room with a stocked liquor cabinet and dozens of photographs of the judge’s commendations lined the walls. A trophy case held various awards and pictures of a younger man, Teddy Jr., who resembled the judge and his high school football championship awards.
Another photograph of an attractive woman sat on the judge’s desk, a stylish blonde decked out in jewels and designer wear who looked fragile but well kept. “My wife, Portia,” Judge Wexler said with a proud grin. “She’s lovely, isn’t she? She was Miss Texas when we met.”
“She is lovely,” Sam agreed, and John nodded.
“So, what can I do for you, Chief Wise? You’re not exactly in your own territory.”
John studied the man’s cool facade. “Judge, do you remember a woman named Honey Dawson?”
Judge Wexler cocked his head sideways. “Dawson?”
“Yes,” John said. “Blond, good-looking.”
Wexler made a clicking sound with his teeth. “Of course. She was in my court. Testified against a man named Kinney for breaking into her apartment. He was stalking her, stole her underwear and took a plea bargain on a burglary charge.”
“That’s right,” John said.
“Why are you asking about Miss Dawson?” Judge Wexler asked.
John and Sam traded looks, then John spoke. “She’s missing, Judge. Two days ago, she came to Georgia, and hasn’t been seen or heard from since.”
Sam explained her relationship with Honey and the blood on the floor. “She left her little girl at my house.”
The corner of the judge’s mouth thinned as he turned to stare at Sam. “She left a baby at your house.”
“Yes,” Sam said. “But we saw a photograph of twins in her apartment, so now we’re wondering what happened to the little boy.”
The judge maintained a steady gaze. “You think Kinney hurt Honey and the baby boy?”
Sam made a noncommittal sound. “I don’t know,” Sam said.
“That’s why we’re here,” John said. “We’re trying to track down Honey’s movements the last few months and hope to get a lead on someone who wanted to hurt her.”
“The only person I can think of is Kinney,” Judge Wexler said. “Have you talked to the Dallas police?”
“Yes, they’re looking for him now,” John said.
The judge stood. “Then I don’t know how I can help you.”
John hesitated. Something about the judge seemed off. He was too nice, charming, quick to dismiss them. “Did you ever see Honey after the trial?”
Wexler squared his shoulders as if to intimidate John. He must be a formidable man to cross, a man who obviously liked his power and position.
“Of course not.” Wexler glanced at his wife’s picture. “I’m a married man, Chief Wise. A wealthy man with power in this town. I would never do anything to jeopardize my reputation.”
John didn’t believe him. “We’d like to see your bailiff Jimmy Bartow now.”
The judge shuffled papers on his desk. “He’s gone for the day.”
“Then we’ll visit him at home. We heard he and Honey were friends. Maybe he can tell us who followed her to town and assaulted her.”
Judge Wexler’s composed face slipped again, slight, but John homed in on it.
“Can you give me his address?” John asked.
“Ask my receptionist,” the judge said. “Although take whatever he says with a grain of salt. Jimmy’s a decent bailiff, but he’s had his fair share of problems with women.”
“What do you mean?” John asked.
Judge Wexler shrugged. “I mean, he’s intense and he has a temper.”
SAM FOLDED HER ARMS as they left Judge Wexler’s office. “What do you think?”
John sighed, placed a hand to the back of her waist and waited until they were in the hallway before he spoke. “I think he’s the first man we’ve spoken with who hasn’t admitted he was enamored with Honey.” His eyes darkened. “And that makes him look suspicious.”
Sam’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Honey did have that effect on men.”
“Not everyone,” he said, and her brows pinched together in question.
“You can’t tell me that you didn’t think she was beautiful,” Sam said.
He shrugged. “Physically yes, but there are other beautiful women in the world, Sam. Some who appeal to me more.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest as his gaze met hers. The kiss they’d shared taunted her.
A look akin to hunger flared in his eyes as if he too remembered the titillating moment, and heat climbed her face. A small smile curved his mouth, and he reached up to tweak her hair, but a man in a bailiff uniform, black pants, black jacket, black shirt, black tie, badge on his jacket pocket and ID card pinned to his lapel appeared and cleared his throat.
“Are you that cop from Georgia?”
John jerked his head to the side. “Yes. And you are?”
The uniformed man jammed his hands in his pockets. “Jimmy Bartow. I heard you were asking questions about Honey.”
“Yes,” John said. “And we thought you’d left for the day. Is there someplace we can go to talk?”
The bailiff nodded and led them through a corridor and down a hall into a small holding room, which Sam knew from experience was reserved for questioning potential jurors. As soon as the door closed, Jimmy began to pace.
Judge Wexler’s comment about Jimmy echoed in Sam’s head. He said Jimmy was intense and had a temper. He also said Jimmy was gone for the day. Had the judge lied to keep them from questioning Jimmy?
Had Jimmy followed Honey and hurt her? And if so, why?
A power and calmness radiated from John as he claimed a seat in one of the hardback chairs, crossed his arms and waited. His ironclad control was intimidating.
“All right, Jimmy,” John said. “Tell us about your relationship with Honey.”
Jimmy scrubbed his hand through his hair, spiking the ends. “Did something happen to Honey?”
“We don’t know. That’s why we’re here,” Sam said softly. “I’m Honey’s friend and we’re looking for her.”
“But you came all the way from Georgia. So you know something?” Jimmy leaned against the chair and jiggled his leg. “I’ve been so worried about her. She just up and ran off and didn’t tell me. I don’t know why Honey would do that, leave without telling me.”
“So you and Honey were close?” John asked.
Jimmy nodded. “I cared about Honey. We were good friends.”
“But you wanted more, didn’t you?” John asked. “You were in love with Honey?”
Jimmy twitched, then picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his pants leg. “Everyone loved Honey.”
John stood, looking imposing at six foot three as he stared down at Jimmy. “Maybe. But someone tried to kill her, and they may have succeeded.” He punctuated his comment with an accusing stare. “So did Honey turn down your advances, Jimmy? Did she tell you she didn’t want you, so you got pissed off and she left town to get away from you?”
Jimmy’s eyes widened with shock. “What? Who told you such a thing?”
“We know you were at Honey’s place. And we heard you have a temper,” John said.
“Me?” Jimmy seemed genuinely stunned that he was a suspect. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. Honey and I were friends. Friends, I tell you.” He slumped into a chair and jammed his hands in his pockets again. “I admit that I was in love with her, and wanted her to see me that way, but I understood she couldn’t.” He turned an imploring look toward Sam. “I decided that I’d take whatever Honey had to give me. Anything, just to be near her.”
The poor guy, Sam thought. Honey had no idea how she affected men. That she broke their hearts when she moved from one to the o
ther.
“What happened, Jimmy?” Sam asked.
The bailiff sighed and blew into his hands. “We met when she testified against the grand jury last year. But she was seeing someone else, some guy named Reed Tanner. Only he moved to California, and Honey was upset so we spent one night together.” His faraway smile told Sam it was a fond memory.
“But Honey wanted more,” Jimmy continued. “She wanted that cheerleading spot and money and…all the things I couldn’t give her.”
“Did you know that Honey’s stalker was out of prison?” John asked. “Did she say anything about hearing from him or seeing him?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that creep was out of jail. But he sure freaked Honey out. He was a psycho.”
John and Sam exchanged looks, and Sam’s stomach clenched.
“Is there anyone else you can think of who would hurt Honey?” John asked. “Did she have any other enemies?”
Jimmy fidgeted with his ID again, hesitating. “Yeah. This girl on the cheerleading spot. Honey said she was jealous as hell of her, and that they were fighting for the same spot.”
Sam closed her eyes, imagining the situation. The men loved Honey, the women hated her.
“What was her name?” John asked.
Jimmy tapped his mouth, thinking. “Seems like it was Tiffany something. Oh, Tiffany Maylor. Her daddy had a boatload of money. He’s in jewelry or something like that.”
John scribbled her name on his notepad. “How about the judge?” he asked. “Did he and Honey ever have a personal relationship?”
Jimmy jiggled his leg again. “Yeah. After we were together that night, they had an affair. But Judge Wexler was an ass to Honey, and she broke it off. I overhead the judge and his son arguing about Honey one day after he found out she was pregnant.”
“So the judge’s son knew about the twins?” Sam asked.
Jimmy bobbed his head up and down. “Yeah, and he didn’t like it. Said they weren’t the judge’s and that the judge should get rid of Honey.”
“The judge wanted her to keep quiet about the babies and the affair?” John asked.
“Yeah.” Jimmy shrugged. “Honey was afraid he would try to take the twins away from her. He owns half the town here and has enough power to do it.”
“Is he the father of the twins?” John asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” Jimmy said. “Could have been that Tanner guy’s, I guess, that is, if they’d hooked back up. But Wexler thought the twins were his.”
“Judge Wexler lied to us,” Sam said.
John muttered a low curse. “Yes, and we’re going to talk to him again.”
“Do you think the judge would hurt Honey to get to the babies?” Sam asked.
“Maybe,” Jimmy said in a pained voice. “He puts on a charming face, but anybody who’s seen him in court knows he’s ruthless.”
“So, now we have four suspects,” John said. “Honey’s stalker, Neil Kinney. Honey’s rival for the cheerleading spot. Judge Wexler. And Wexler’s son, Teddy Jr.”
“This is unbelievable,” Sam whispered. “And we need to talk to that guy Reed Tanner.”
“We’ve certainly got our work cut out.” John turned to Sam. “First, let’s talk to the judge again. The fact that he lied to our faces suggests he’s hiding something. And if that gorgeous wife of his found out about the judge’s extracurricular affairs, we can add her to the suspect list.”
Sam gritted her teeth. Honey had gathered a lot of enemies since she’d left Butterville. Which one of them wanted her dead?
Chapter Thirteen
John grimaced. Honey Dawson had gotten herself in one fine mess. If they found her alive, he was tempted to shake the little vixen for tossing Sam into the middle of her problems.
“Do you know where we can find Reed Tanner?” he asked.
A muscle twitched in Jimmy’s jaw. “No. But he still owns a ranch around Springton, I think. Where are the twins now?”
John glanced at Sam, silently warning her not to say too much. At this point, he didn’t know whom they could trust. “The baby girl is safe,” John said. “We don’t know about the little boy. Do you know where he is?”
Jimmy began to pace again. “No. Gosh, I don’t understand why Honey didn’t come to me. She knew I’d do anything for her. I would have taken care of her and the twins.” He halted and ground his toe into the carpet. “But Judge Wexler, he treated her like a tramp. He tried to bribe her to get rid of the babies. And God knows, he has enough money in his pockets to do it. Everyone around these parts knows about the Wexler Ranch. He’s got two outdoor pools and an indoor one, tennis courts and a damn football field in back that he built for his precious son Teddy Jr. so he could practice when he was in high school.”
“Jimmy, please let us know if you hear from Honey, or if you learn something that could help us,” Sam said.
“Of course.” Worry strained his features. “Let me know when you find her. I can’t stand to think that anything bad happened to her or those babies.”
John left him his card, and the two of them headed back toward the judge’s chambers.
“I don’t understand why Judge Wexler lied,” Sam said. “Didn’t he realize that Jimmy would tell us about the affair?”
“Jimmy works for the judge,” John said. “Maybe Wexler thought he would be too afraid to talk.”
“Jimmy obviously cares enough about Honey that fear didn’t stop him.”
“Yeah, Jimmy was a wealth of information,” John said with a brisk shake of his head.
They arrived back at the receptionist, and John cleared his throat. “We need to see Judge Wexler again.”
The receptionist gestured toward the door. “You just missed him. He left to go home.”
John frowned. “Then we need his address.”
She hesitated, but John leaned against the desk, his tone commanding. “This is an official police investigation, miss. I’m sure the judge would want you to cooperate.”
Her brow pinched together, then she scribbled Wexler’s address on a sticky note. He took it then led Sam out of the building. Sam lapsed into silence on the way to the Wexler Ranch, while John considered the number of suspects they were racking up. Hopefully, Detective Arnold would locate Neil Kinney. Meanwhile, he wanted to talk to all the other players in Honey’s little drama.
The Wexler Ranch was just as he’d expected—impressive. The white house looked stately, like a miniature White House, the fence and corrals made of white wood instead of the normal steel pipe coral fencing and electric/barbed wire used for the pastures.
The arrogant man was flaunting his wealth.
That arrogance suggested he would probably do anything to keep his secrets and preserve his reputation. That ten thousand dollar deposit in Honey’s account would have been a drop in the bucket for him—maybe he’d tried to bribe Honey not to tell his wife about the affair or the twins.
And if Honey had stepped in his way and decided to do that…
“HE’D BETTER TELL US the truth this time.” Sam reached for the car door handle. The sun was beginning to slip and cast shadows across the rolling green pastures as they parked in the circular drive and walked up to the door.
“I doubt he’ll admit to hurting Honey,” John said. “But maybe he’ll slip and implicate himself. I want to talk to his wife and son, too.”
Sam’s worried gaze swung to his. “You’re right. If one of them knew about the affair and babies, they might have tried to shut Honey up.”
John rang the doorbell and they waited in tense silence until the door opened. A maid wearing a nametag that read Louisa greeted them. “How can I help you?”
John flashed his ID. “We need to speak to Judge Wexler.”
“He just arrived home. Can I tell him who’s calling?”
“He knows who I am,” John said.
Sam studied the foyer. The inside was gilded with expensive crown moldings, ornate rugs, paintings and furnishings. The ri
chness of his mansion astounded her.
A second later, the judge appeared, this time without his judge’s robe, although still in a pricey designer suit. He cradled a glass of bourbon in his hand and steered them toward his study. Rich paneling surrounded the room with a state-of-the-art computer system and desk dominating the area. Built-in cherry bookcases held an assortment of law journals and leather-bound books.
“You knew we’d be back,” John said.
The judge shrugged, then gestured toward the built-in bar. “Would you like a drink?”
“No,” John said. “We want answers.”
“Why did you lie?” Sam asked.
“You came to my chambers and asked private questions. I have a reputation to protect.”
“But you knew we’d find out the truth,” John said. “That you and Honey had an affair.”
The judge sighed wearily and sank into his leather chair. “That was a long time ago. It’s been over forever and was a mistake.”
“Does your wife know?” John asked.
The judge sipped his bourbon. “Yes. But that stupid bailiff is the one you should look at. He was obsessed with Honey and hated any man that even looked at her.”
“That’s not the way Jimmy tells it,” John said. “Jimmy said that he heard you and your son arguing about Honey’s pregnancy. That you tried to bribe her to get rid of the babies.”
Anger flashed in Wexler’s eyes, and he drummed his fingers on the desk. “That’s not true. I thought the twins were mine and wanted to take care of them, to raise them the way a Wexler should be raised. Then Honey just up and disappeared.” The ice clinked in his highball glass as he drained the rest of the bourbon. “I even hired a private investigator to find her, but so far, he hasn’t reported anything.”
“So you admit that you had an affair, that you think the twins are yours and you want them?” John asked.
Judge Wexler set his glass down with a clink. “Yes.”