Lauren, Karen, and my crew were present when I arrived, and Lauren was surprisingly quiet. I half expected Connor to sneak in at the last minute with his copy of The Connor Life in hand, but when I mentioned it to Chuck as he miked me up and put me in a chair, he gave me a devilish grin.
What was that about?
There were twelve interviews scheduled over the course of two hours, with only about five minutes between some of them.
The first two interviewers asked why Dixie wasn’t with me. After I told them she was still recovering from her trauma, they tried to bring up the fire that had killed Pawpaw and my aunt and uncle, but I quickly changed the topic. Luke had convinced us to try to get Trent to give an official statement before we made the truth public. I couldn’t help hoping we’d get him to sign a waiver so I could use the footage too.
The second interviewer was a perky blonde who looked like she’d drunk way too much coffee. “How much crime can one small town have?”
I gave her a cheesy grin. “I don’t really know, but it has a little bit less than it did yesterday.”
When we signed off, Lauren stormed over. “You’re not promoting the show enough. That’s the whole point of doing these things.”
“It feels pretty arrogant to say, ‘I’d tell you what happened, but you’ll need to wait four months to see it for yourself.’”
“Then I’ll do it,” she grumbled, and had the makeup person fix her up too.
Lauren slid into the chair next to mine with seconds to spare before the third interview began—a live one this time.
The interview started off pretty much the same as the others, with Lauren dropping obnoxious hints that viewers should tune in if they wanted the real scoop, but it took a turn when the new interviewer, a younger man named Brad, said, “I’m surprised Connor’s not with you to address the latest news.”
I turned to Lauren and gave her an acquiescent smile.
She shifted in her seat. “Connor wasn’t involved with this case.”
“I’m not talking about the case,” the man said. “I’m talking about the photos just posted to TMZ.”
Lauren’s eyes widened so much she looked like she had googly eyes. “Uh . . .”
I crossed my legs and rested my hands on my knees, giving the camera an inquisitive stare. “And what might those be, Brad?
“So this is the first you’re hearing of it?” Brad asked.
Lauren looked panicked, and Tony and Chuck were shaking as they tried to control their laughter. Obviously they knew about whatever Brad was talking about, and I was beginning to suspect they were behind it.
Go, Team Summer.
I tilted my head and said in the same voice a mother would use for her naughty child, “And what has Connor done now?”
“We have the photos here.” The screen switched from a view of the host to a slide show of Connor in various places in Sweet Briar. Connor eating a huge burger behind the train station. Connor smoking next to a dumpster behind Maybelline’s. A video of Connor chewing out a little old woman who had hired him to look for her missing cat. But the most damning of all were a few stills of Connor handing money to Rick Springfield, then taking a small pouch in exchange.
“Summer,” Brad said, “isn’t this one of the suspects you helped apprehend?”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s Rick Springfield. He died last night in a gunfire battle with the Bixley sheriff’s deputies.”
“Was Connor working undercover there? It looks like he’s making a drug deal.”
“Uh . . .” How should I handle this? “Connor Blake has had a well-documented on again/off again struggle with drug use, so I see no reason to comment on that, but as to whether that is a photo of an actual drug deal? Well, I really can’t comment on that either, Brad.” I gave Lauren a wink. “You’ll have to watch Darling Investigations in October.”
I’d just figured out what my crew had been up to while I was being interviewed at the sheriff’s office.
When we finished the interviews a couple of hours later, Lauren started to storm off, but stopped in the doorway and turned to glare at me.
“You think you got one over on me, Summer Butler, but revenge is a dish best served cold.”
“Lauren,” I said, sounding as exhausted as I felt, “can’t we just let this go? Aren’t you tired of all the animosity?”
She shook her head. “No one one-ups me and gets away with it.”
“She’s gotten away with it twice,” Bill said.
I shot him a glare that read not helping.
Lauren’s eyes narrowed to slits, then she stormed out the door.
As soon as she shut the door, I gave my full attention to my crew. “How on earth did you manage to get all those clips and photos of Connor?”
Tony laughed. “It was surprisingly easy.”
“I guess the lighter was from his cigarette habit,” I said. “What about the drug deal with Rick Springfield? We never found him that day.”
“We didn’t get that one,” Chuck said. “That was Connor’s crew the day before. Dee smuggled it to me.”
I hoped my guys never turned on me like that.
“We’ll have even more work now,” Tony said, and when he saw my confused look, he added, “While you were doing your interviews, Connor caught wind of the photos and stormed out.”
“He quit?” I asked in shock.
“Looks like it, and some people think they’ll pull the book.”
I wasn’t surprised. Looked like even Connor couldn’t live up to the Connor Life.
“Well, I know we’ve got a heavier workload now, but I say we take the rest of the day off. Get a fresh start tomorrow. Maybe Dixie will feel like comin’ in too.”
The guys all agreed, and soon I was alone in my office. I glanced up at the map on the wall, starting to believe I could make investigating a real profession, not just for the cameras. And maybe Luke could teach me a thing or two.
The bell on the door jingled, and I glanced up and saw Luke walking through the door in his uniform.
“Hey,” I said as I stood, my face flushing at the sight of him. “What are you doin’ here?”
“I saw your interview on Good Morning America, but after last night I needed to see you in person.” He walked toward me and gave me a long, soulful kiss. “I still haven’t recovered from your close call at the Jackhammer.”
“Thanks for showing up to save me,” I said.
“Let’s not make a habit of it.”
I didn’t plan on it, but then again, I hadn’t planned on it before either.
“I’m also here to see if you can get me a clip of that tape of Trent’s admission.”
“Yeah,” I said, walking over to my desk and opening the drawer. “Bill already sliced it and made a file.” I pulled out a flash drive and handed it to him. “I thought this wasn’t admissible in court.”
“It’s not, but I can still use it to coerce him into giving me a statement.”
“You’re gonna go after him?”
He gave me a dark smile. “You bet your sweet little ass I am. But I’m also here to try to convince you to file charges against Elijah for attacking you at the Dunbar ranch.”
I shook my head. “No way. He’ll file charges against me. You know I can’t risk it.”
“But that means the city is stuck with him.”
“Just gather more evidence against him,” I said. “It won’t be hard.”
“But how many innocent people will be abused by him before we get it?” Luke asked, then shook his head. “I understand, Summer, I do, but I’m still frustrated.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, darlin’, don’t be sorry. But until he’s gone, you need to watch your back, okay? And call me at the first sign of trouble with him. Got it?”
I smiled. “Got it.”
His phone began to ring, and he answered it, saying, “Hey, Amber.” He paused, and his eyes became as wide as silver dollars. “Two o’clock is good. I’ll
alert the DA.” He hung up, beaming.
“What was that about?”
“Trent Dunbar’s attorney called. They want to come in and give a statement about Troy’s involvement in the fire ten years ago, but he also wants to talk to the DA about workin’ out a deal for other information.”
“Other information?”
“About all his father’s underhanded dealings, including bribery to clear his sons’ names. The DA’s been looking to bring Roger Dunbar down, and Trent might be his ticket.”
Oh, crap. This was big.
“But before you think Trent’s being all altruistic, consider this: If Roger Dunbar’s in prison, guess who’s running his multimillion-dollar lumber empire?”
My heart sank. “Trent.” He was going to be rewarded for keeping his awful secret.
Luke sighed. “I was gonna invite you to lunch, but I’ve got to call the DA. Dinner tonight?”
Butterflies filled my stomach. “Yeah. I’m lookin’ forward to it.”
I drove out to the farm and had lunch with Dixie and Meemaw, but I was worried about my cousin. She wasn’t herself, but then, what had I expected? She’d been through hell.
We were lying on the sofa after lunch, watching a marathon of Gilmore Girls, when I heard a knock at the door.
She gave me a worried glance, so I hopped up and opened the front door, shocked to see Bill holding a large bouquet of flowers. He was even wearing a dress shirt and tie.
“Hey, Bill,” I said in surprise.
“Is Dixie up for company?”
I glanced around the short entry wall and stared at my cousin, who was now sitting up.
She grimaced, then nodded.
“Yeah, come on in.”
I stepped back and let Bill in, still in shock as I watched him make a beeline for Dixie. He sat down beside her, the bouquet still clutched in his hand, looking more nervous than I’d ever seen him. (He’d stared down the barrel of a gun and gotten shot, so that was saying something.)
“How you feeling, Dixie?”
“Better,” she said. “Tired.”
He nodded, then swallowed, his hand tightening around the flower stems. “Dixie, I know I’m not the most attractive man in the world—”
“Bill . . . ,” she said softly, sounding embarrassed.
“No, hear me out.”
She nodded, and her cheeks turned pink as she gnawed on her bottom lip.
“But I’m loyal. And thoughtful. And I cook without burning things.” He laughed, and she laughed too. “I can be a great boyfriend, and I know you just went through something horrible, so maybe you don’t want to even think about this now, but I want to be here for you, Dix. I want to be here holding your hand while you go through it.”
She looked up at him with unshed tears in her eyes. “Oh, Bill. I was so awful to you. Why would you want me?”
He shook his head. “Because you’re a beautiful person, Dixie Baumgartner, inside and out. You just need someone besides your family to help you believe it too.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“So will you give me a chance?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’d love nothin’ more than to have you here holdin’ my hand.”
He grinned, and I walked over and took the flowers. “Let me put these in water for you and give you two a little privacy.”
I took the bouquet into the kitchen and found Meemaw snapping beans.
“Meemaw,” I said, “you never said why you called for a family dinner the other night. Do we need to schedule another one?”
She gave me a long look before shaking her head. “And have another disaster? It’ll keep.”
I put the flowers in water and then headed out to the surveyor’s house. If I was going to remodel it to make it more livable, I needed to start a list of what needed to be done. Halfway down the dirt lane, my phone rang, and I was excited to see it was Marina.
“Marina,” I said. “How’s the world tour goin’? Where are you now?”
“It’s a disaster. I’m in Cambodia,” she said, sounding disgusted. “It’s hot, and they have mosquitoes the size of airplanes.” She paused and lowered her voice. “So tell me about sleepy little Sweet Briar, Alabama. I bet you’re bored to tears. Are you sorry for moving there yet?”
I’d escaped an alligator, was almost run down by a car, and was nearly shot by April Jean’s killer. All within a couple of days.
But happiness filled me when I took in the white and now-pink cotton fields that had bloomed for my family for nearly two centuries. Teddy, Dixie, and Meemaw gave me a sense of belonging I hadn’t felt in years. And when I thought of Luke . . . I could see a glimpse of a future we could create together, and it gave me hope.
Did I regret coming back to Sweet Briar?
A grin spread across my face. “Not a chance.”
I was here to stay.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Denise Grover Swank is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of the Rose Gardner Mysteries, the Magnolia Steele Mysteries, The Wedding Pact series, The Curse Keepers series, and others. She was born in Kansas City, Missouri, and lived in the area until she was nineteen. Then she became a nomad, living in five cities, four states, and ten houses over the course of ten years before moving back to her roots. Her hobbies include witty (in her own mind) Facebook comments and dancing in her kitchen with her children (quite badly, if you believe her offspring). Hidden talents include the gift of justification and the ability to drink massive amounts of caffeine and still fall asleep within two minutes. Her lack of the sense of smell allows her to perform many unspeakable tasks. She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity—or so she leads you to believe. For more information about Denise, please visit her at www.denisegroverswank.com.
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