by Rita Herron
Who was on the phone with John? Did he have bad news about Honey?
Hastily she buttoned her blouse, then raised her hand and knocked on the adjoining door. When John opened the door, he’d straightened his own clothing, and wore his professional expression, his gaze not quite meeting her eyes.
“John, is something wrong? Was that call about Honey?”
“No,” he said. “It was my father.”
Sam frowned at the distance she felt between them.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
He gave a clipped nod. “He wants me to come to Atlanta to meet some political constituents.”
“I see.” Did that mean he was planning to leave Butterville soon? If so, she wouldn’t see him again.
The thought sent an odd ache through her chest—this might be the only chance she had to be with him. “John,” she said softly. “Do you want to come back to my room?”
He finally lifted his head to look at her. A seed of hunger flared bright and hot, but he held back, regret passing across his face. “Get some sleep, Sam. We need to get an early start tomorrow.”
Sam stared at him for a long moment, her heart racing. She’d practically asked him to make love to her and he’d turned her down. Why? She sensed he wanted her. His body couldn’t have lied.
And if that phone call hadn’t interrupted them, they would be in bed. So what had changed?
Hurt and confused, she went to her room and shut the door between them. But as she crawled in bed and closed her eyes, she dreamed that he would join her.
FATIGUE WEIGHED ON JOHN the next morning. All night he’d been plagued with questions about the case, and fantasies about making love to Sam. He showered and dressed, then knocked on Sam’s door. When she answered, she was already dressed, her expression cool.
Damn. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss that iciness right out of her. But they had work to do.
The sooner he solved this case, the sooner he could leave Sam and Butterville behind.
They ate breakfast in strained silence, then he drove to the police station and dropped off the bullet casings he’d collected at the parking garage the night before.
“Where to now?” Sam asked, all business.
“To Judge Wexler’s house to question his wife.”
Sam lapsed into silence again as he drove, and guilt nagged at him. He’d meant to do the noble thing the night before by not taking advantage of her, but judging from the lackluster look in her eyes, he must have hurt her.
Well, hell. He was trying to protect her. Not hurt her.
But he was damned however he handled it.
His mood soured as they approached the Wexler property. His father would be in his element dealing with the judge’s power and money, but distaste filled John’s mouth as he parked in the circular drive, and he and Sam walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. Again, the housekeeper greeted them and showed them inside.
“We need to speak to Mrs. Wexler,” John said.
Louisa nodded, and showed them to the living area, then disappeared. A few minutes stretched out, then Portia Wexler appeared draped in diamonds and a designer tennis outfit, a haughty air about her as she strode toward them. Louisa placed a tray of coffee and china cups on the coffee table, and Portia poured a cup and offered it to him. John declined, and so did Sam, so Portia added sweetener then sipped it herself.
John introduced them and explained about his investigation.
Portia offered a fake smile. “Yes, my husband mentioned that you were here yesterday.”
John cut to the chase. “The judge said that you knew about his affair with Honey Dawson.”
A flicker of resentment sparked Portia’s eyes before she masked it. “Yes, that was a mistake. But it didn’t last long.”
“Did you ever meet Honey?” John asked.
She shook her head. “No, no reason. Teddy broke it off himself, but she came back and tried to milk him for money.”
“We heard that Honey broke it off,” Sam said.
Portia’s eyes turned cold as she faced Sam. “You heard wrong.”
“You’re aware that Honey had twins,” John said.
Portia took another sip of coffee. “She claimed they were Teddy’s, but I didn’t believe her for a second. She was a gold digger who just wanted money. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t gotten pregnant so she could blackmail him, and no telling how many other men, for money.”
Sam clenched the chair edge and John laid a hand over hers to keep her from pouncing on Portia.
Barely suppressed rage tinged her voice when she spoke. “Judge Wexler said that he wanted to raise the twins as his.”
Portia flicked her hand up in a dismissive gesture. “Yes, well, Teddy has a soft spot for children, and if he did turn out to be their father, we agreed to raise them.”
“But you still don’t think the twins are your husband’s children?” Sam asked.
“No,” Portia said with an air of confidence. “The timing was off. And after all, men were a dime a dozen to Honey.”
“Where were you four nights ago?” John asked.
Portia traced her finger over the edge of her delicate china cup. “Having dinner with my son Teddy.”
“So if you don’t think your husband fathered the babies,” Sam said, “then who did?”
“Like I said, Honey had a lot of men. Before she seduced my husband, she was apparently involved with someone named Reed Tanner.”
“How do you know Tanner?” John asked.
Portia scoffed. “The maniac showed up here asking about Honey and the babies. And then he assaulted my son, Teddy. If you ask me, he’s a menace to society and should be locked up.”
John considered her answer. Reed Tanner’s name kept popping up. John definitely needed to talk to him. If Tanner was the father of those babies, maybe Teddy and Portia were telling the truth. Maybe Tanner had come after Honey and the twins.”
“If he hurt Honey,” John said, “why would he be asking you and Teddy about her?”
“I have no idea,” Portia said. “Maybe she faked being hurt, and dumped the kids so she could go hook up with some other man. I can’t see her being a decent mother.”
Sam tensed again, her claws protracting as if she were ready to attack.
But Portia’s theory held some credence.
What if Honey had been totally freaked out by having children? The responsibility could have overwhelmed her as it obviously had her mother, and she could have dumped one baby on one person, then the other on Sam so she could continue her party lifestyle, maybe even go back and try out for the cheerleading spot again.
THAT GEORGIA COP and Corley broad were asking way too many questions. They had to be stopped.
But first, they had to lead him back to that baby girl. As long as she was out there, she could make trouble for him, could mess up his life.
And nobody was going to do that.
Honey Dawson should have listened to him. Should have done everything he’d said. Should have taken the money and run.
Hell, at least Honey was gone now.
But he had to finish the job so those brats wouldn’t come back to haunt him.
Chapter Sixteen
“I can’t believe everyone is being so hard on Honey,” Sam said as they drove toward Springton to Reed Tanner’s family ranch. “I know she liked men, but everyone just wants to throw the blame on someone else.”
John made a sound low in his throat. “Sam, that’s generally the way police work goes. It’s rare for a suspect to admit up front that he’s a killer or criminal. They try to throw off the police.”
“Well, it’s not fair.”
John squeezed her hand. “You see a lot of unfairness in your work, Sam. How do you deal with it?”
She bit her lip. “I try to get justice for the kids. That’s all I can do.”
“I know,” John said, frustration wearing on him. “Sometimes, though, it doesn’t feel l
ike enough.”
She sighed and turned to look out the window as they drove to Springton.
Immediately, John noted the differences between the Wexler Ranch and Tanner’s. Instead of a mini-presidential mansion, Tanner’s house was light blue with fading paint. No expensive white wood fencing, either. Barbed wire roped off the land and no animals were in sight. The property looked run-down and deserted. Weeds choked the land, flowerbeds badly needed tending, and a rusted pickup truck had been left in the middle of a field. He spotted a cattle grate in the gravel drive with a wrought-iron entrance sign with the name “Double Kay Ranch” painted on it. More barbed wire fencing stretched around the pastures, and a weathered, whitewashed barn with a corral sat to the side.
He pulled down the drive and parked. “Let me lead the questions here, Sam. We don’t know if Tanner is being framed by the Wexlers or if he is dangerous like they suggested.”
“Fine,” Sam said, that wall he’d erected the night before standing like a mountain between them.
They climbed out and walked up the steps to the porch, but before he could knock, the door opened and a tall broad-shouldered man walked out.
No servants here. And not a friendly greeting at all.
The movement he’d detected inside when he’d parked? Apparently Tanner had been watching for visitors, on the alert. Defensive.
Which raised John’s suspicions. And judging from the expression on his face, Tanner had pegged him for a cop, and he didn’t like or trust the law.
The man obviously had something to hide.
“Reed Tanner?” John asked.
“Yes.”
“John Wise. Samantha Corley. We need to ask you a few questions.”
“You’re cops?”
“I am.” John flashed his badge. “Ms. Corley works as a children’s advocate.”
Tanner’s throat tightened. A sign he was nervous in John’s book.
He had to push for more. “As I understand it, you don’t live in this area any longer.”
“Right. I moved about a year ago. To San Francisco.”
John pressed his lips together and nodded slightly, maintaining a cool expression. “And what brings you back?”
Tanner tensed his shoulders, a movement so small he probably didn’t even realize he’d made it, but a telltale sign of stress.
“I’m tying up some loose ends.”
John swallowed back his irritation. “Loose ends? Explain.”
Tanner glanced over the flat expanse of pasture as if he was trying to organize his thoughts. The real estate sign swung slightly in the breeze. “I’m putting my mother’s ranch on the market.”
“You said you moved a year ago. It’s taken that long to decide to do this?”
A lone minute passed while Tanner mentally put together his story, a ploy John had seen before.
“My mother’s death was very traumatic,” Tanner said. “I’ve needed time to get used to the idea.”
John stifled any emotion he might feel for the guy. Sentiment had no place in a criminal investigation.
But Sam spoke up, in a low heartfelt voice. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Reed nodded his sincere thanks.
John wasn’t so sympathetic. “I hear you and Honey Dawson had a relationship before you left Texas.”
“We did.”
“Were you aware that she gave birth to twins a few months ago?”
Another shuddered look as if he intended to head John off at the pass. “And you’re wondering if they’re mine?”
John arched a brow. “Are they?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you know about the babies.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “Honey contacted you about them?”
Tanner paused, a silent debate on how to answer warring in his eyes. Answering yes would only lead to more questions. Answering no would foster suspicion about how he’d learned about the twins. “I got a note from Honey.”
Sam piped up. “You haven’t seen her? Talked to her?”
“No.”
John traded a look with Sam. He didn’t buy it. “What did the note say?”
“That she had twins. I don’t remember the rest.”
“I’ll bet.”
“We have located one of the children.”
A slight twitch of Tanner’s eyes revealed his interest. “Where is she? Where did you find her?”
“How did you know the baby we’ve located is a girl?”
“Just a lucky guess.”
“Where is the other baby, Tanner?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know, or you’re not telling?” John asked.
Sam peered past him as if trying to see in the front window of the house.
“How did you know I was in town?” Tanner asked.
“We talked to a friend of yours.”
Tanner narrowed his eyes. “A friend? What friend?”
“Theodore Wexler Junior. It seems the two of you had a reunion at his condo last night.”
“A reunion? That’s what he called it?”
“You did a number on his nose. And I can see he got a few licks in, too.”
Reed’s hand shifted as if he had to resist the urge to bring his hand to the bruise under his eye. “If you want to look at someone who could hurt Honey, Teddy Junior would be a good place to start. Not here.”
“Interesting. He said you might tell us that.”
“Gee, if a Wexler said it, then you know it has to be true. What else did he say?”
“He said the two of you talked about Honey and her babies last night at the party. He said that you went into a jealous rage.”
Reed’s gaze twisted back to the house for a second as if he was hiding something inside. Or someone.
“I have no reason to be jealous.”
“Really? That’s not what he said. He told us you’ve had it in for him ever since he beat you out for quarterback in high school. He said your animosity extends to his father.”
Tanner remained silent, the wheels obviously turning in his head. He knew they were talking about the judge.
John continued, “And his stepmother told us you visited her. She’s confirmed everything he said.”
“So why are you here? To arrest me?” Tanner asked.
“We’d like to take a look inside the house.”
“Get a warrant.”
Dammit. John wasn’t surprised at his response, but he didn’t like it. “You’re making yourself look guilty of everything Teddy Wexler Junior accused.”
“You’ve given me no way around that.”
“Just tell us the truth,” Sam said in a low, soothing voice. “Help us find Honey. Help us find her baby. Please.”
Sam’s plea seemed to diffuse Tanner’s defensive attitude slightly.
“I’m looking for Honey, too. That’s the real reason I’m here. I’m worried something has happened to her.”
“Why?” John asked. “What prompted your worry?”
A moment of silence, then Tanner answered as if he had no choice. “A few days ago, Honey came to my boat in San Francisco, but she left before I arrived. I haven’t been able to find any sign of her since.”
“So you saw her a few days ago?” John said in a hard voice.
Tanner looked him square in the eye. “No. I never saw her. I haven’t seen her since I left the Dallas area a year ago. I’m looking for her, too.”
“So you were in San Francisco?”
“Yes. I flew here two days ago.”
John still didn’t trust him. He could have chased Honey to Atlanta. “And you went nowhere else in between?”
“No. I took a flight straight here.”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
Tanner dug out his wallet and pulled his baggage claim ticket and handed it to him. “I filed a report with the San Francisco police the day before I left, and I hired a private investigator to help look for Honey. She was with me on the flight.”
So both Wexler and Tanner claimed they’d hired private investigators. “What’s her name? Can we talk to her?”
“J. R. Dionne. But she’s not here at the moment. I can have her call you if you give me a number.”
John narrowed his eyes, then thrust the baggage claim back into Tanner’s hands. “If you’ve been looking for Honey, tell me what you’ve found?”
“Judge Teddy Wexler thinks the babies are his. He says he wants to raise them. And he has lawyers looking for Honey.”
Hearing Tanner’s theory about the judge didn’t surprise John in the least. He didn’t like anything about the snotty judge. “Is there anyone else you can think of who might want to hurt Honey?”
Tanner rubbed the back of his neck. “Neil Kinney.”
John clenched his teeth. The stalker’s name again. He needed to see just how much this man knew. “What is his involvement with Honey?”
“One-sided. He started by peeping in her windows and following her everywhere she went. He moved on to rifling through her underwear drawer. He did time for burglary for that one.”
Had Tanner tracked him down? “Where is he now?”
“Here. He was following us yesterday. He drives a green pickup with a big dent in the hood.”
John didn’t know if Tanner was telling the truth or trying to deflect suspicion from himself. But he sure as hell had a reason to suspect Kinney.
“Tell me one thing,” Tanner said.
John focused intently on him, as did Sam, but as they’d discussed in the car, he took the lead. “What?”
“The baby girl. Is she okay? Is she safe?”
Genuine concern tinged the man’s voice. This time Sam answered.
“Yes,” Samantha said. “And I can assure you, she’ll stay that way.”
Tanner looked down at the dirty gravel under his feet. “Thanks.”
John sighed. Whether or not Tanner was the father of the babies, he seemed relieved that little girl was okay.
Obviously Tanner was another one of the men Honey had loved and left. And if Tanner really cared about the babies, had he hired a private investigator to get them back? Had Honey been running from him, Wexler or Kinney?