"He did it. I know he did," Keegan muttered as the reporter paused to take a breath.
Ravens cocked her head. "In a related incident, Woodward was found dead early Sunday morning in a parking lot across the street from the Kitty Kat Klub, a location notorious for violence. Sheriff Blaylock attempted to shut down the strip club when he first took office, but the club's owner retained an attorney and successfully blocked his efforts."
"I'd love to strangle that bitch right now." Keegan clenched the covers so tight her fingers ached. "Maybe I can make her my next target."
The camera focused on the club, and then switched to a tape of Mindy standing in the empty parking lot. They'd probably shot this segment tonight after leaving the coffee shop.
"None of the intrigue surrounding Dirk Woodward appears to be connected to today's armed robbery, of course," she said, "but WHBZ News is determined to dig deeper into this story, so tune in to our reports later in the week to learn more."
The station switched to a commercial, but Keegan was too busy coming up with a way to get back at the reporter to pay much attention. She was still fuming five minutes later when her cell phone bleated from its nightly perch on her combination charging station/alarm clock. Before she could even reach for it, her house phone rang, too.
"Holy cow." She drew her brows together and snatched up both phones. The Caller ID on her house phone read, WLKP, the call letters for another network's affiliate in a nearby town, while her cell phone displayed what she guessed to be from a cell phone in Keller County. Her stomach tied itself in an intricate knot. Only a few people had her cell number, and one of them was Sheriff Rick Blaylock. She didn't know if the number on the screen was his or not. His card was hidden somewhere deep inside her purse.
She hung up the house phone without answering it, and then reluctantly accepted the call on her cell. "H-hello? Who is this?"
"Sheriff Blaylock, Ms. Riley. I was surprised to see you on the news tonight."
"Me, too. I just--" She broke off, dropped back against the headboard, and closed her eyes. Could this day possibly get any worse? "Mindy Ravens ambushed me outside the coffee shop. I noticed you somehow managed to evade her."
"Yeah, I did. One of my detectives brought my car 'round back so I could leave through the rear exit. I had enough fun with that fool reporter the night of Dirk Woodward's murder. Didn't want to talk to her again, even though she's been sticking to me like glue."
Keegan's stomach dropped the floor.
Oh, dear God. After that report, he knows about Jennifer... and my connection to Dirk. Mindy Ravens just broadcasted our connection over the airwaves and broadband for all the world to see. That woman should be locked up somewhere.
"Ms. Riley?" The sheriff's deep rumble held a hint of irony. "Funny how you forgot to mention your connection to Woodward when we spoke this afternoon."
"I-I didn't get a chance to tell you much of anything then, did I?" she snapped, her frayed temper reaching the breaking point. "If you remember, our conversation was rudely interrupted when those two jerks pulled their guns and held up the coffee shop."
"You know I remember." He paused. "We also spoke at the scene of the crime earlier in the afternoon, near the Kitty Kat Klub, and you didn't say a word about your sister or Dirk Woodward then, either."
"I didn't have time before you slapped those cuffs on my wrists."
"Are you saying you were going to tell me?"
"Well, I--" Irritated, she halted again. Of course she hadn't been planning to tell him, but to say it aloud made her sound like some sort of criminal, when Dirk and the man who had killed him were the ones who had committed murder. She hadn't killed her sister's fiancé, even though that had been her plan, and yet she wanted to hug the man who had because Dirk had deserved to die. She frowned. "I can't really say."
"I would've found out eventually anyway, you know. Surely you realize that."
"Of course I do." She wet her lips. Yes, he would've found out -- but not tonight. She would have at least had time to regroup and come up with a plausible story. After everything that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours, she could barely remember her own name.
He hesitated. "Ms. Riley--"
"It's Keegan, remember?"
"All right, then. Yes. Keegan." He muttered a muffled curse, and then paused. "Look, I know you didn't kill Woodward, because one of the surveillance cameras captured his murder on video. My investigators are busy looking for the man who stabbed him. Still, I need to know if you arranged for that guy to kill Woodward in retaliation for what happened to your sister."
"No!" Her heart pounding, Keegan threw off the covers and jumped to her feet. "I'd never even seen that guy before. He just came storming out of the club and ran straight at Dirk."
"Why were you there in the first place that night? You never told me."
"Aren't we meeting at your office tomorrow?" She raked a hand through her hair and marched across the floor, the nervous energy bubbling up inside her making her whole body buzz. "Why can't we talk about it then? I was about to go to bed. It's been a trying day, and I need to get some rest--"
"Fine. I get it." He blew out a heavy sigh.
She paced back toward the bed. "Then you'll wait to finish my interrogation?"
"You must need time to come up with a story I can believe."
"What?" The accuracy of his words threw her for a loop. She halted. "No."
"I need you to tell me the truth, Keegan."
"I-I know." She swallowed back the urge to end the call and plunged ahead. "But why does it matter?"
"The truth always matters."
"Not necessarily." She sank down onto the edge of the bed. "Why do you want to know why I was there? I saw the murder and can testify against the man who did it. Isn't that enough?"
"Not exactly. I need to know if you're a credible witness."
"Oh."
"Yeah. 'Oh'," he said. "If the defense can tear you apart, you won't help our case one damned bit."
"I understand." She put a hand over her eyes. What in hell am I going to do?
He hesitated. "Think about that overnight and then text me tomorrow like you promised. I expect to hear from you as soon as Judge Rouse recesses for the day."
"Of course." Keegan dropped her hand. "Goodnight."
"'Night, Keegan." The rough timber of his voice sent a chill rippling through her, and not because of her precarious situation. He disturbed her on a molecular level, stirring her senses into a whirlpool of confusion and kicking her good sense right out the window.
In an attempt to process their conversation, she sat on the bed with the phone in her hand for a good twenty minutes after ending the call. No matter how much she stewed over it, she could only come up with one conclusion: She either had to come up with a believable cover story or admit she had gone to the Kitty Kat Klub that night to kill Dirk.
"I sure as hell can't tell him the truth," she murmured, her stomach roiling at the prospect of seeing him again. "So I have to come up with a story he can swallow."
Just what that might be, she had no idea. A lie, certainly, but which one?
Keegan glanced at the clock.
Ten-fifteen. She had to be in court in less than twelve hours. No time to think then for sure, if she wanted to keep her mind on her job. So she needed to come up with something now.
The boyfriend story? Maybe. She gnawed her lip and forced herself to envision every possible scenario.
This was going to be one long, lonely, irritating night.
*****
Worn to a frazzle, Mindy Ravens finally left the television station a little before midnight and headed home. She had a headache and was stiff from hunching in front of her computer monitor for the last hour searching for dirt on Keegan Riley.
Just as she reached her street, her phone buzzed to announce she had a new text message. She pulled into her driveway and picked up her phone. The text was from Henry Maillet.
"Just frea
king great," she murmured in a tired voice. The man was relentless in his quest to bring down Sheriff Blaylock. He'd zeroed in on her Achilles heel in a hurry and was using it to force her to help him. She blinked back tears. "The bastard's only doing it because he knows he can't do the job. The public knows this, and won't elect him unless he ruins Rick Blaylock."
Mindy brushed the moisture from her eyes. She hated helping Maillet, but couldn't find a way around it. If the truth about her former life ever got out, she'd not only lose her job; Maillet knew enough people in the news business that he could also blackball her and ensure she'd never work in the industry again. So even though she believed the sheriff was an honorable man doing a good job, she had to keep her opinion to herself and do everything Maillet said.
Her stomach swirled as she opened his text.
Look for more dirt re: Woodward-Riley-Blaylock. Call me tomorrow.
"Damn you, Maillet," she whispered, a fresh spate of tears filling her eyes. "I don't know what the hell else I can find. Blaylock didn't work the Jenny Riley Case."
A cloak of weariness enveloped Mindy as she slid her phone into her purse and climbed from the car. Before she reached the door, her phone buzzed again.
She halted on the porch, took a deep breath, and dug out her phone.
Another text from Maillet.
Mindy? Did you get my text?
"Damn it. Of course I did." Boiling with fury, she answered him.
Yes.
She threw her phone back into her purse and unlocked her front door. If only she hadn't buckled under to his threat. Yet what else could she have done? He had information she needed to keep hidden, and he had a job only she could do.
Her stomach ached as she went inside, shut the door, and flipped the deadbolt. She hated hurting the sheriff, but she had to put herself first. Otherwise, Maillet would blackball her in the industry, and she'd never get another job as an anchorwoman.
I can't let that happen.
Tears filled her eyes as she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a drink.
Chapter Five
"Three days after that guy stabbed Woodward, and I still have no freaking idea who he is," Rick murmured to himself early Tuesday. He'd had to dodge Mindy Ravens again on his way to work this morning, and he was getting damned tired of it. The woman must never sleep.
In an effort to think about something other than the annoying reporter, he keyed up the surveillance video from the Kitty Kat Klub yet again and riveted his gaze on the computer screen. Every time he viewed that tiny bit of digital evidence, he hit the same dead end: The guy never once looked up at the camera, even though Rick kept willing him to turn around.
"Come on, man," he murmured. "Slip up just once. Please."
"Problem, Sheriff?" C.J. Bowman halted in Rick's open doorway. His eyes widened. "Whoa. What in hell happened to you?"
"What?" Rick frowned, then remembered the way his face had looked in the mirror this morning when he'd shaved. He fingered the bruise beneath his eye. It had turned dark purple. "Oh, yeah. Stopped an armed robbery yesterday, and got this for my trouble."
"Hope the other guy looks worse." The detective stepped through the door. "Are you working that case right now?"
"No. Robbery's got it." Rick sat back in his chair. "I'm working this one. I need an ID on the jerk who murdered Dirk Woodward -- yesterday."
"Is that the guy stabbed at the Kitty Kat Klub on Saturday?"
"Yeah. The scumbag attacked him almost directly under the streetlight, and I still can't see his damned face. The video's too hazy." He motioned for the detective check it out. "I even had Tiffany come in and look at it again before she rolled out today. She laughed at me."
"You can't see what's not there, chief. Although tech might be able to clear that up."
"Yeah, I hope so. I'm gonna send it over later today." He sighed. "Don't have much choice, because I struck out at the club, too. Only one moron paid with a credit card that night, and he left early. Everybody else paid cash."
"Do you blame 'em?" C.J. stepped around the desk as the video played out for the hundredth time on Rick's computer.
He laughed. "Hell, no. It's a strip club. Most of their patrons are probably either married or in a relationship. I'm sure their significant others wouldn't be thrilled to learn where they were spending their time."
"What about the witness you found?"
"Well..." He glanced up at the detective. "It's a long story that ends with the coffee shop robbery. She's the one who saved my ass."
"No freaking way." The detective gaped at him.
He nodded. "Oh, yeah. She didn't hesitate, didn't say a word. Just snatched up that Beretta as if she'd done it a thousand times and got the job done. Easy as pie."
"Seriously? Is she a cop?"
"No. She's an artist." He rubbed his brow. "She sketches trials for Keller County Court."
"Holy shit. A court artist? Really?"
"Yeah, I saw her in court yesterday when I sat in on part of the Wicker trial, and she didn't say a word about witnessing that murder." Rick sighed and sat back in his chair. "She's pretty good at what she does, and she also knows how to handle a pistol. Makes me wonder."
"Maybe her dad taught her how to shoot. Or maybe a boyfriend."
"It's possible." He shrugged. "Anyway, she's coming in for another interview after court today. I'm hoping she can tell me something that'll help me find that guy."
"Why was she at the Kitty Kat Klub that night in the first place?" C.J. cocked his head. "A woman by herself, hiding in the shadows. It's weird, if you ask me."
He scowled. "That's a damned good question. One she's skated around and managed not to answer so far. I'll wring the truth out of her today, though. I have to."
"Having her tell the truth would be a good idea." The detective smirked. "I caught you on the news this morning. Clips from the past week and comments about the campaign. I missed the part about the robbery."
"I suppose you saw the one of me from the other night at the Kitty Kat Klub telling Mindy Ravens I couldn't answer any of her questions about the Woodward murder."
"That was one of 'em. She also mentioned you somehow managed to evade her yesterday after the armed robbery, so she didn't get to interview the hero of the day. That ticked her off."
"Of course it did. And she was telling the truth." He exited the file containing the video and got up. "Tompkins caught the case and offered to bring my car around back so I wouldn't have to deal with Ravens. I took him up on it. I also avoided her this morning, too. Talking to her twice in one week is too much for me."
"I don't blame you. Unfortunately, Henry Maillet is spreading that all over town."
"Yeah, he is." Rick stretched, and his back popped. He grimaced at the sharp pain. "This morning, I've had calls from every news outlet in the county, plus one from the Clarion-Ledger up in Jackson. Everybody wants a quote about the crime rate in Keller County."
"Wow, boss. Talk about publicity. I thought you were a hero after thwarting the robbery, but if all that's going on, too... well, maybe not." With another smirk, C.J. came to his feet.
Rick grinned. "I was a celebrity for about five minutes after the armed robbery. Now I'm a pariah because we haven't been able to find Dirk Woodward's killer."
"Hell, it's only been a few days."
"Doesn't matter." He dragged on his coat. "I'm up for re-election. That means I have to solve cases and play the hero."
"Remind me to never run for sheriff."
"If you do, you're an idiot." Rick snatched up his keys and rounded the desk. He halted and studied C.J. "Wait. Do you need something? Is that why you came by my office?"
"No, sir." With a wry grin, the detective shoved his hands into his pockets. "I actually... um, just stopped by to harass you about the story Mindy Ravens did on you last night. Nothing personal, but I really only wanted to have a little fun."
"At my expense? You must think I'm about to be drummed out of office."
> "Um... no?" Obviously puzzled, C.J. cocked a brow. "Why would you think that?"
"Well, you still work for me, and here you are pulling my chain. Not smart, Detective."
"Oh." He paled. "Sorry, sir. I thought we were friends, not just co-workers. My bad."
"Yeah, we are. Which means now I'm yankin' your chain." Rick clapped the detective on the back, laughed, and angled for the door. "Get some work done today, will you? I have to go make a commercial. I tried to beg off because of the bruises on my face, but Willa wants me to do it anyway. Says it's proof I'm in the thick of things and makes me look tough."
"Yeah? In my opinion -- and you should take it for what it's worth -- it makes you look like you just got mugged." C.J. sneered. "But if anybody can pull it off, Sheriff, you can. With Willa's help, of course. She's pretty good at bending your words and making them make sense."
"Well, thank you. I think." He saluted C.J., and then reluctantly left the station. He was supposed to meet Willa at her office at ten o'clock.
He hated being on camera, especially looking like this, but would suffer through it to dispel the lies Mindy Ravens had spouted after first touting him as a hero. According to her, he was incompetent, despite having brought down the two armed robbers without being armed himself; unavailable, although he'd done countless interviews with her over the past four years; and unconcerned about the safety of the citizens of Keller County, even though he'd worked his ass off to bring down the crime rate. If not for the sudden spike in violent offenses this summer, he'd have a damned near-perfect record.
Halfway to Willa's office, his cell phone rang. Irritated the call had interrupted his thoughts, he punched the button on his Bluetooth headset.
"This is Sheriff Rick Blaylock. What can I do for you?"
"Good morning, Sheriff." The woman paused. "This is Mindy Ravens, with WHBZ."
"How'd you get this number?" His anger flamed hot. "I don't give it out to many people, and I certainly never gave it to you."
"I got it from one of the club patrons you questioned about Dirk Woodward's murder. Apparently, you gave the man your card. He told me, and I asked him to give it to me."
Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance Page 9