Deadly Commitment

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Deadly Commitment Page 7

by Kathy Harris

“No, please don’t. I’m fine. Really. I just need a few minutes to—” To remember where their conversation had left off. Seeing Ridge’s scowling face reminded her.

  “Are we finished with this little love fest?” The older man groaned from across the room and then tossed his phone onto the table. “I’d like to get through this interrogation before lunchtime.”

  “Interrogation? Is that what this is?” Danni huffed. “Perhaps I should call my attorney.”

  “You’re welcome to call your attorney, Ms. Kemp.” Ridge straightened in his chair and shoved his phone further across the table in her direction. “But I will tell you that we’re not prepared to charge you with anything today. We’re only trying to learn more about Mr. Evans. And, if you will calm down and answer a few more questions, we will be done soon.”

  “How am I supposed to calm down when I have no idea what’s going on?” She stared at the phone and then back at him. “I’m innocent of whatever you seem to be alleging and . . . and so is Rob.”

  “Is that so?” Ridge chuckled. “Well, you’ll need to prove that to me.”

  Caleb, who had retaken his seat a few feet from Danni, intervened. “Of course, we’d like to believe that’s the case.” He reviewed his notes and then looked back at her. “Let me make sure I understand something we discussed earlier. Are you engaged to marry Robert Evans?”

  Danni hesitated. How did you explain being engaged to be engaged?

  “Not officially,” she said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you or not?” Ridge’s cheeks burned red. “Frankly, Ms. Kemp, I’m almost as confused as you are.”

  “I don’t have a ring, but we’ve set a date.” That was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  Samuels cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “Okay, so you’re dating Mr. Evans. How long have you known him?”

  “Two . . . almost three years.”

  Ridge set his coffee cup down hard, and Danni jumped.

  “Do you use illicit drugs, Ms. Kemp?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Does Mr. Evans use illicit drugs?”

  “No!” She looked from Ridge to Samuels, hoping to find support in the face of the latter. When he didn’t respond, she added, “Well, not that I’m aware.”

  “Do you have a key to Mr. Evans’s home, Danielle?” It was Samuels this time.

  “Yes. Do I need to call my attorney?”

  “That’s up to you, Ms. Kemp.” Ridge pointed to the phone.

  “Danielle,” Samuels intervened again, “I’m sure this has been a difficult week for you. Your life was endangered by an intruder at the Rutherford. You’ve been told there’s a drug ring operating out of the condominium next door. And, unfortunately, that condominium is owned by your boyfriend.”

  Danni nodded.

  “We only have a few more questions.” He paused, presumably giving her time to object. When she didn’t, he continued. “Do you know if Mr. Evans keeps large sums of money in his home?”

  Danni swallowed. How did she respond to that? Did a money-filled briefcase count?

  “Sometimes.”

  Samuels and Ridge exchanged glances.

  “How much money?” Samuels leaned toward her.

  “I don’t know.” She looked away and then back to him. “I only know what Rob has told me, that he has some cash at his place. And . . .” She shifted her focus to the floor and steepled her hands. “And before he went out of town last week, he gave me a briefcase filled with cash to keep for him. He said it was money from one of his artist’s merchandise sales. And other things.”

  “Do you know how much money?” Samuels’s jaw tightened.

  “No.” She searched his dark eyes hoping to find reassurance. “I don’t, I’m sorry.” Why did she want so badly for him to believe her?

  “Aren’t you an accountant, Ms. Kemp?” Ridge asked.

  “I have a degree in accounting. I’m a restaurant manager.”

  “But you didn’t count the money that came into your possession?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t bother to open the briefcase. Rob told me it was cash. I simply stored it in my closet for his return. Just as he’d asked.”

  The older agent guffawed. “Do you really expect us to believe you’re so naïve? Why are you hiding drug money if you aren’t involved?”

  “It’s not drug money. It’s money from Rob’s business.” She looked to Samuels. “That’s what he told me.”

  “Danielle,” the younger agent said, sitting back in his chair, “I’m concerned for your safety. By now every thug in Nashville may know you’re hiding money in your home.” He shot a glance toward his boss, then back to her. “You need us on your side, not against you.”

  “But Rob isn’t—”

  Samuels held up his hand. “If we’re wrong, you’ll be helping prove his innocence.”

  Her resolve was beginning to fade, and her stomach began to churn. Why did everything with Rob have to be so complicated? She had no doubt he was innocent, but she wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for him.

  Ridge stood and walked toward her. “Ms. Kemp, there is only one way we can be sure you aren’t involved with this.” He placed his hand on the back of Samuels’s chair. “You need to agree to help us.”

  “How?” She looked from Ridge to Samuels and then back to Ridge. “What could I possibly do?”

  Ridge pulled a small box from the pocket of his jacket and placed it on the table in front of Samuels. “The thug who broke into Robert Evans’s condo told us he was sent to retrieve this. Most likely, he was also hoping to find money Evans had stashed.”

  “What is it?” Danni studied the box, which wasn’t much bigger than the one her necklace had come in.

  Ridge slid a small bag from the box. “Methamphetamine. Also known on the street as crystal meth, ice, and poor man’s cocaine. Its value is about $1,500.”

  “But how can you be sure it came from Rob’s place?”

  “We can’t.” Samuels admitted. “But we have good reason to think Evans’s drug ring boss believes he’s withholding from him.”

  The younger man gestured toward the bag. “And this corroborates that theory.”

  Danni sat silently, not sure what to believe. Everything they were alleging was theory. Samuels had just said so.

  “Your help could give us important information that may save lives, including Rob’s.” Samuels seemed determined to sway her. “As well as your own.”

  Danni settled back into her chair. “Do you really think I’m in danger?”

  “We hope not.” Ridge appeared to be sympathetic. “But your relationship with Mr. Evans, not to mention your proximity to him, puts you in a precarious position.”

  “The TBI will protect you.” Samuels leaned forward again. “And you can help us learn the truth about Rob.”

  “I don’t see that I have much choice. I’m not a criminal.” She glanced from one man to the other, hoping they believed her.

  Samuels nodded.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you. But I want you to understand, both of you.” She looked from Samuels to Ridge. “I’m only helping so I can clear Rob’s name. And my own.” She toyed with the pendant on the chain around her neck. “You will soon owe me—and him—a very big apology.”

  Ridge gritted his teeth. “Ms. Kemp, you have it all wrong.” He nodded to her necklace. “The money that bought you that was dirty. You’re the one who needs to understand . . . and to get your priorities straight. Too many innocent lives depend on it.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Pushing through the glass and steel door, Danni hurried from the lobby of the central precinct police building into the fresh air. Freedom at last. At least for the moment, until she could fully assess what had just happened.

  The noonday sun had chased away the morning chill, so she shrugged out of her sweater, threaded it through the handles of her handbag, and stopped t
o catch her breath. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

  Because more than the weather had changed in the last three hours?

  Everything she had counted on or believed to be true—her faith in the judicial system, the trust she’d had for Rob, and her ability to read people—had been hijacked by an unseemly stalker who had turned out to be a cop.

  None of that made any sense, even if Danni dared believe it, but enough rang true that it took her breath away. She already had doubts about Rob. But those were more about his ability to commit, not about his character. There was no way the man she had known for close to three years could do what those men had alleged.

  She straightened her shoulders and turned to the right, the closest route to Amoré and the normalcy she now craved. Her perspective would be better there. This place was skewed toward the criminal elements of life. And while law enforcement was a good thing, these people had no idea who Rob was.

  He was a consummate professional. And he didn’t like to get his hands dirty, period. Much less deal in something like illicit drugs. If Rob had a fault, it was his dedication to his work. And, while that might be frustrating, it wasn’t a crime.

  And to accuse her of being involved? She half coughed, half laughed. Samuels and his superior were operating off a ridiculous notion. They were operating on half-truths. Miscommunication. And, unfortunately, probably rumors. She shook her head. But how long would it take to straighten it all out?

  In the meantime, she had too much to do, starting with the Chamber lunch at the restaurant today. Jaycee had to be frantic by now.

  She checked her watch again. Half-past twelve o’clock. Jaycee would be beyond frantic. She would be furious.

  Danni’s pulse quickened. The panic—and doubt—was trying to return. Please God, not another fainting spell. They always came at the worst time, when she needed her wits about her the most.

  She inhaled a ragged breath. Then another. Breathing and exhaling deeper each time. She had learned how to fight this, at least when she knew it was coming on. Back in the interrogation room, she had been blindsided by Ridge’s accusations. But here, she could win.

  She grew stronger with every breath until she could finally move forward again. Halfway between the police building and Sixth Avenue South, the cityscape began to spin around her, and she reached out. But she had nothing to hold on to. Not a pillar, not a sign post, and certainly not Rob. He had put her in this place, and all she had to lean on was her own determination. And the belief instilled in her by her father that she could do anything she set out to do. That she was strong enough.

  She picked her way to the corner. Moving forward, despite her anxiety about what was ahead. The tiny spring buds and delicate green leaves on the trees to her left were proof life remained.

  Reaching the street, she hesitated, then turned to look back at the concrete and glass edifice where she had spent the last few hours. She drew in another breath and started across Korean Veterans Boulevard. She would prove to Caleb Samuels and Martin Ridge that she and Rob had been wrongfully accused.

  A car horn blared, bringing Danni back to the moment, and she jumped backwards onto the curb, motioning for the vehicle to pass. It might be better if she stopped thinking about the injustices of the judicial system and concentrated on what she was doing.

  Looking both ways, Danni hurried across the busy throughway into the shadow of the Music City Center. She had to decide what to tell Jaycee.

  Agent Ridge had warned her not to say anything about their conversation, even suggesting she could be charged with obstruction. He had also said telling someone might jeopardize their safety. The last thing she wanted was to drag Jaycee, or anyone else, into this mess. If only Rob had been concerned about the same thing. Of course if he had been in town, she might not have had this encounter with the TBI.

  She reached into her handbag for her phone. She would let Jaycee know she was on her way. But before she could send a text, the phone rang. It was the chef.

  “Where are you?” Jaycee had an edge to her voice.

  “I’m just leaving—”

  “I need you here as soon as possible. Michael didn’t show up for work. I’ve called and called him, but I can’t get an answer.”

  “Isn’t this the second time in a few weeks?”

  “Yes. And today of all days! You need to talk to him, Danni. It isn’t like Michael to let us down like this.” Jaycee’s voice drifted off. “Hold on, I’ll be right there.” She returned to the phone. “But right now, I have to finish serving the Chamber luncheon. How soon can you be here?”

  “I’m fifteen minutes away.”

  “See you then.”

  Jaycee hung up, and Danni quickened her pace. Jaycee would be lost without Michael’s help. The young man, almost ten years their junior and fresh out of tech school, had worked his way to lead server and “chief motivator” at Amoré. Michael inspired his team members like no one else. And his smile won over even the most dissatisfied customer.

  Thinking about her employees—and knowing Jaycee needed her help—was good medicine. Danni hurried down the sidewalk toward the Omni, leaving the morning’s problems behind her. She would think about them later.

  Right now the restaurant needed her more.

  “So what happened?” Jaycee blotted perspiration from her forehead and then tucked the dish towel into her apron strings, the luncheon now behind them.

  “You mean this morning?” Danni set another stockpot on the counter.

  Her friend rolled her eyes. “Yes, at the police station. What took so long? I thought you were just signing paperwork.”

  “It’s a mess.” Danni tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, buying time for her reply. “The man who broke into Rob’s condo has a history of drug problems, and they want to know why he chose that particular unit.”

  “You mean they think Rob is connected to drugs?” Jaycee continued to wash dishes.

  “Why would you even ask that?” Danni gasped. “You know that’s not true.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve always thought that man was up to something.” Jaycee glanced Danni’s way.

  “That’s not fair, Jay. They’re just concerned that word may have gotten out that he keeps money at his condo. And that he’s out of town a lot.”

  “What about the man who attacked you? Have you found out how he entered the building?”

  Danni could feel heat rushing to her cheeks. “Well, we didn’t talk much about that, but I’ve heard that our entry code somehow made it to the street. And the guard was in another part of the building when at least one of the men entered. That’s been corrected now.”

  “Are you comfortable with that?” Jaycee looked concerned.

  “I wouldn’t use the word comfortable, but I’m hopeful it could never happen again.” She folded her hands and changed the subject. “So how do you think the luncheon went?”

  Before the chef could respond, a server interrupted.

  “Ms. Kemp. A police officer is here to see you.”

  Danni froze. What could they possibly want now?

  “Ms. Kemp?” The young girl repeated.

  “D-did he say why he was here?” Danni stuttered.

  “He didn’t say, ma’am. He’s at the front door.” The server nodded toward the dining room and walked away.

  Jaycee arched her brow. “Aren’t you the popular one?”

  “This is starting to get ridiculous.” Danni glared at the chef and took off for the front.

  When she arrived, she was relieved to see a uniformed officer she hadn’t met. Hopefully that meant his visit was unrelated. “How may I help you, officer?”

  “Does Michael Ryan work here?”

  “Yes.” Danni glanced to her right and saw Jaycee had joined them. “However, he’s not working today. Is there a problem?”

  “I’m sorry to have to inform you, ma’am.” The man removed his hat. “But Mr. Ryan was found dead this morning. He was outside his apartment building.�
��

  Danni gasped. “How? What happened?”

  The officer pointed to a nearby table. “Please. Have a seat. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Caleb settled onto a bench at a table near the back of the crowded restaurant. Von Elrod’s was Ridge’s favorite place for lunch and, even though German food didn’t set well with Caleb, he had agreed to meet his boss here.

  The parking was scarce, but the prices were reasonable, and most importantly he wanted to keep his boss happy. At least long enough to get his blessing for Caleb to stay on the Evans case.

  Because his cover had been broken, Ridge might prefer to relieve him. But for reasons Caleb didn’t want to disclose that option was not acceptable. If his gut was telling him correctly—and he could usually rely on it—this case was bigger than anyone at the TBI could even imagine. In fact, Caleb suspected Robert Evans was in deeper than even he realized. Evans was a pawn in a very deadly game.

  Danielle Kemp was a pawn too. But unlike Evans she was an innocent one. At least that was Caleb’s opinion.

  He thought back over the interrogation. Ridge might not agree with him, but Caleb had confidence in his ability to read people. He had studied Danni’s body language, the subtleties of her expression. Either she was a great actress or she had no idea who—or what—her boyfriend really was. And she was loyal enough to want to defend him. Perhaps to a fault.

  Caleb ran his hand through his hair. No doubt Danielle Kemp had captured his interest, but not just because she was beautiful. She reminded him of his family back home. Small town, hard-working people. Good people with good values.

  In the weeks he had been undercover, he had seen how she treated others. Better yet, he had seen how they responded to her. It was obvious her staff at the restaurant respected her. And she went out of her way to be courteous to everyone, from the concierge to the security guards at her high-end condominium.

  Danielle Kemp may live and work among the elite in town, but beneath the fancy façade of designer clothes and high society, Caleb believed she was a woman with strong values. She was of a different ilk from that boyfriend of hers.

 

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