by Lee Taylor
When Chloe sank onto her seat with a triumphant smirk, Rita Davidson rose to her feet and approached the bench. Her quiet dignity was in direct contrast with ADA Richards’s fulminating charges and histrionic delivery. Holding the serious judge’s gaze, she said quietly, “Your honor, in her twenty-six years, Ms. Trouble has never been accused of so much as running a traffic light. Rather, she is a professional woman who created a women’s shelter that has literally saved hundreds of women and their children from the horrors of domestic abuse. In addition, as the ADA noted, she is supported by the most outstanding members of our law enforcement and legal entities. To that point, to insinuate as the ADA has that Sheriff Titus Trouble, Deputy Sheriff Tanya Trouble, or District Attorney Zane Wilder would in any way compromise their professional obligations is as transparently false as it is malicious. In addition, we will unequivocally prove that Ms. Trouble is innocent of the crime with which she is charged. For the reasons I stated above, I request that the court set bail so that Ms. Trouble can go home to care for her two small children while we prepare a defense worthy of her obvious innocence.”
Judge Fisher’s hooded gaze confirmed the seriousness of the issues confronting him. Speaking carefully, he acknowledged the eager ADA. “I concede that Ms. Trouble has high-level support from leaders in our community that could give her an advantage.” Turning to the solemn defendant’s attorney, he said, “However, I also agree with you, Attorney Davidson, that even in these challenging circumstances it is outrageous to question the integrity of Sheriff Trouble, his deputy, or that of our illustrious district attorney. That said, because the defendant is charged with a capital crime and is potentially a flight risk, I’m setting her bail at one and a half million dollars.” Rapping his gavel sharply, the frowning magistrate rose from his chair and strode from the courtroom.
Rita made a production of putting her papers in her briefcase and snapped it closed, then led Tatiana past the flushed ADA over to where Zane, her father, and her sister were waiting. Painting a smile on her face, Rita greeted the serious trio with an audacious wink. “That was easy. I trust you agree. Round one to the good guys.”
****
“What can I say, Zane? Attorney Davidson was impressive in the courtroom today. And yes, given what we are up against, we need the toughest attorney possible to represent Tatiana.” Titus added equivocally, “Even if she is a little full of herself.”
Tanya laughed. “C’mon, Dad, admit it. Rita hit a ten-strike today. She made Chloe Richards look like a schoolyard bully who’d been schooled by the king, or in this case, the queen of the yard. Rita Davidson is a master, and I for one am grateful that Zane hired her. Besides, Dad, you deal with Tara and, heck, with me on a daily basis. When did you start disliking ballsy women?”
Titus shrugged and allowed a reluctant grin to momentarily lighten his somber mien. “Perhaps, my inner chauvinist is showing itself. With a woman as beautiful as Ms. Davidson, it would be nice to see a tad of humility, perhaps even deference, rather than blatant arrogance.”
Zane quirked a brow and shared a knowing grin with Ryker. The team had congregated at Tara and Griffin’s house so Tatiana could say good night to her children. Knowing the depth of Titus’s despair, the last thing he wanted to do was pile on, but Zane couldn’t help tweaking the stern sheriff. Deciding a little humor wouldn’t hurt the gloomy group, he pinned a thoughtful gaze on Titus. “I dunno, Sheriff. I think Tanya is onto something. Something that Ryker and I know only too well. That is how challenged big, strong, overbearing men feel when confronted by an uppity woman who is as beautiful as she is impertinent.”
“Yeah, Titus, what’s up?” Patting Tanya’s butt, Ryker said with a grin, “Hell, man, you work with my woman on a daily basis, and you know damn well behind the scenes you encourage her uppity side.” He winked at Tanya. “Methinks your father might be intrigued with our formidable attorney. You know how much we arrogant men like to take on ballsy women.”
At that moment, Marcie appeared in the doorway. She hesitated and then ran to Titus. Resting against his knee, she gazed up at him and murmured, “I came to kiss you good night, Grandpa.” Dressed in her pink and white princess pajamas, with her fiery cloud of curls and shining emerald eyes, the little girl gave Zane a glimpse of what Tatiana must have looked like when she was five years old. Seeing the moisture welling in Titus’s eyes as he reached for the precocious moppet, Zane felt his chest tighten. He knew that Tatiana had told her children their father had died—although she hadn’t revealed he’d been murdered. Tatiana and Tara had decided that until they had a better sense of what would happen in the next few days, Marcie and Max should stay with Tara.
After giving her grandfather and Tanya a good-night kiss and hugging Griffin and Ryker, Marcie came to a stop in front of Zane. She hesitated and then said with a disconsolate sigh, “I don’t think our deal worked, Mr. Zane.”
Having a good idea what was troubling the pensive child, Zane pretended ignorance. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees and met her anxious gaze. “Hmm, I’m not sure I understand, Miss Marcie.”
“Remember you said we were going to work together to see if we can make my momma smile more?”
“Yes, I do remember. That was our deal.”
Before he could continue, she pronounced sadly, “It didn’t work, Mr. Zane. My momma hasn’t smiled once since she came to see us today.”
Zane reached for her and lifted Marcie onto his lap. “I’m sorry to hear that, honey. But you know that your momma has a lot going on in her life right now.” Tipping up her chin to meet his gaze, he added carefully, “So do you, Miss Marcie.”
The little girl leaned against him and after a long moment asked tremulously, “Is it . . . okay . . . if I’m not very sad that my daddy died?”
Zane managed to keep his response even. “Given everything that’s happened, Marcie, I can understand why you feel confused. But, sweetie, know that whatever you are feeling is very much ‘okay.’ ”
Her lips quivering, Marcie nodded sadly. “My daddy was mean to my momma. He made her cry. And . . . and he scared me and Max.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Marcie.” Debating how to continue and aware that all the adults in the room were silently studying them, Zane blew out a troubled sigh. Rising to his feet, he anchored Marcie on his hip. Tipping up her chin, he met the little girl’s teary gaze. “How about you and I go see how Max and your momma are doing? Sometimes even if you don’t feel like smiling, it feels good to be with people who love you.”
“Do you love my momma, Mr. Zane?”
Hugging her tight against him, Zane shot her a soft smile. “Yes, sweetheart, I do. Very much. I also love you and Max. Shall we go and tell your momma that? How about we make that our new deal, Miss Marcie? Even if she doesn’t smile, I bet it will make her feel better.”
He was grateful when the little girl perked up and said firmly, “I like that, Mr. Zane.” She added hopefully, “Maybe if we keep hugging her and telling her we love her, after a while my momma will start smiling again.”
****
“How is she doing, Zane?”
Blowing out a hard sigh, Zane shrugged. “About as well as can be expected, Ryker.” He sank down onto the sofa. “Fortunately, Tara convinced both Tatiana and Tanya that tonight is the perfect night for a Trouble sisters sleepover. I agreed. Tatiana is numb from fatigue and frantically worried about Marcie and Max. She said she needs to be here with them.”
Griffin added, “I’m glad that Tara convinced them all to stay. And while she has a right to be concerned about the kids, I gotta believe, after listening to that conversation you had with Marcie, Tatiana may not have to worry about that little sprite. By the way, big guy, that was masterful. You connected with that kid better than any of us could.”
Titus agreed. “Griffin’s right, Zane. Once again you said and did exactly the right thing to comfort Marcie and I’m sure Tatiana. I . . . I appreciate the hell out of you, man.” When Zan
e waved a dismissive hand, the stern man tugged at his chin and didn’t try to hide his distress. His voice was barely audible. “Frankly, I’m not sure how any of us, especially my daughter and grandchildren, are going to survive this tragedy.” He added bitterly, “Goddammit, the worst part of it is that fucking Loomis is no doubt laughing in his hopefully fiery grave. More than anything, that son of a bitch wanted Tatiana to suffer. And I’ll be fucked if that isn’t exactly what is happening.”
Zane rose to his feet and pinned a hard frown on the sheriff. “I think you’re onto something, Titus.” Including Ryker and Griffin in his penetrating gaze, he added, “Look, we know how Loomis was killed. Fuck, in a way we also know why. You don’t shoot a guy’s dick at close range unless you’re making a damned big statement.” Looking from one to the other of the men staring at him, Zane was intense. “Listen, men. I think it’s high time the four of us get down to dealing with the questions I’m convinced only we can answer. One being how the hell did Tatiana’s pistol—the murder weapon—end up at the site? It’s obvious if she had shot him, she wouldn’t have left her pistol there. And if that isn’t bizarre enough, why was his cell phone found next to him—open to a recording in which Tatiana threatens to shoot the fucker? Obviously, Loomis was setting her up. But somehow he got caught in his own trap.” He paused, then nodded. “Perhaps the real issue is who decided that Loomis deserved to die more than Tatiana did.” He stopped pacing and turned to face the now fully engaged men. “Or hell, men, maybe the issue is who decided that both Loomis and Tatiana deserved to go down? And was passionate enough to ensure that they did?” Not hiding his growing excitement, he added, “Given that we know how and likely why he was killed, how about we head over to the B n’ T, where we do our best thinking, and address the question that only we can answer. Who the hell did what every one of us would have given our left nut to do—that is, kill the fucker? And even more significant, who wanted to frame Tatiana in the process?”
Chapter 30
Let’s face it, men. Zane is on target. Just the idea of shooting a guy in the nuts is cringe-worthy for the best of us. Shit, the thought has my jewels hunting for a place to hide.”
“You’re right on, Ryker. The method to the madness of this kill is telling. We’ve all been dancing around the obvious conclusion. That is who has the most reason to shoot the guy’s prick off?”
“Other than Tatiana, Zane?” Titus asked grimly.
“Yes, Sheriff, other than Tatiana.” Reaching for the bottle of Maker’s Mark, Zane refilled their glasses, then arched a thoughtful brow. “As Ryker said, aiming for a guy’s nuts isn’t a go-to move for a guy. Yeah, we’d kick him in the balls with relish. But shoot off his dick? Ah, no. It’s too fucking personal. Hell, just the thought makes a guy squirm. Think about it, men. If a man has a gun, he goes for a kill shot. He aims between the eyes or for the heart, not for the fucker’s prick. No, to be specific, shooting a guy’s dick off is a sexual act, a crime of passion. Hell, in the case of Loomis, I don’t think killing him was the perp’s primary goal. Rather, the perpetrator wanted to wound Loomis, make him suffer. Make him pay for an ignominious act.” Taking a large swallow of his booze, Zane asserted, “Which brings us to the obvious conclusion. In my mind it was the action of a clearly wronged woman.” At their grunts of agreement, he continued. “Yes, like Tatiana or one of the scores of other women Loomis surely wronged.” He was quiet for a long moment and then added carefully, “Or . . . one he specifically wronged in an unforgiveable way.”
Titus met his hard gaze and nodded in agreement. “You’re right, Zane. Let’s face it, at some level, we’ve all known the truth from the beginning. In my mind, it had to be a woman as unhinged as Loomis was. A woman who hated Tatiana as much as she loved Loomis. The woman who screamed her hatred for Tatiana from the rooftops. Who insisted the reason Tatiana turned her over to Child Protective Services was because she’d stolen Loomis from her.”
Zane agreed with a confirming grunt. “Yeah, the wigged-out woman, who was crazy enough to believe that Arnold not only loved her but he would abandon his Tatiana-mania for her.” He was quiet for a long moment, then leaned forward, not hiding his mounting conviction. “Until the asshole did something so reprehensible, so crushing, he convinced her otherwise.”
Glancing around the crowded tavern, Zane raised up in his chair and quirked his head at the table in the back corner of the bar. He rose to his feet with a nonchalant shrug belying the deadly intent flaming in his eyes. “Guess the best way to find out what the asshole did that was so unforgivable . . . is to ask her.”
****
“Hello, pretty lady. Mind if I join you?”
Meeting Savannah’s bleary-eyed stare, Zane smiled at her. When the clearly inebriated woman didn’t refuse, he reached for a chair and sank down next to her. Setting his half-full bottle of Maker’s Mark on the table, he raised a questioning brow. When she just glared at him, he leaned over and refilled her glass. Struggling to determine who he was, Savannah’s frown deepened.
“Hey, aren’t you the hotshot district attorney, the one who’s shagging that Trouble bitch?”
Zane shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Although I think you’ll discover, if you ask around, I’m not exactly known for being a one-woman man.” He looked her over, paying overt attention to her surging breasts that were doing a damn good job of escaping her risqué halter. He added with a wink, “If anything, I’ve worked hard to maintain my rep as a connoisseur of beautiful women. Frankly, the more the better.” Sipping on his whiskey, he added, “Besides, from what I hear, unless the sheriff can pull a fast one, that daughter of his is in a shitload of trouble.”
Slurping a man-sized gulp of the strong alcohol he’d poured for her, Savannah pinned him with a hard stare. “You aren’t wrong on that one, hotshot. I have it on good authority that the Trouble bitch is going down, and no one, including her sheriff father, can save her.”
Topping off her glass, Zane shrugged. “So I hear. Although I’m not sure why she’d want to kill him. My understanding is that Loomis was crazy in love with his former wife. Would have done anything to win her back.”
Savannah puffed up like an angry adder, her cheeks flaming with anger. “That’s a goddamned lie. He despised her. I know that for a fact. He . . . he told me that.”
As she seemed to consider what she’d said, Savannah’s expression changed from one of anger to fear. Knowing what she was facing, she was so pitiful, Zane almost felt sorry for her. Wanting to see if he could get her to open up, he pretended surprise. “You may be right. I understand that whoever shot him did it with Tatiana’s gun. Are you saying that she was trying to get him back and when he refused, she shot him?”
Visibly swallowing, Savannah betrayed her confusion. “I . . . I’m not sure. But . . . I think that could have been what happened. He might have told her . . . that he never loved her. Or . . . maybe he laughed at her . . . ”
When it was clear that the befuddled woman was pulling back, Zane nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm, if she really loved him like you said, that would have been hard to take.” He shrugged. “While I’m not one for falling in love, I can see why if you really loved someone and were sure that he loved you, it would hurt like hell if he laughed in your face. It might even be seen as an excuse, a rationale . . . to . . . at least to hurt him . . . bad. Hell, maybe even shoot him.”
Savannah looked up at him, her red-streaked eyes flaring with excitement. “That’s what Blondie said. That sometimes shooting someone can be an accident . . . can even be a good reason . . . ”
When she flushed, then plopped back in her chair, her expression clouding with uncertainty, Zane topped off her glass and took a chance. “You’re right. I’ve seen judges rule shootings as accidents on a number of occasions. Is that what you think happened to Loomis? He was shot by accident . . . that she didn’t really mean to kill him?”
Rearing up in her chair, Savannah glared at him. “How the fuck would I know? I o
nly know that redheaded bitch is going down.” She grabbed the glass and emptied it in a couple of noisy gulps. Rubbing at her watery eyes, her voice hardened. “No one, including her father and sister, can save her. According to my important friend, they’ve got her coming and going. Hers were the only fingerprints on the gun and I personally heard her tell Arnie she was going to shoot him.” Her lips curved in a salacious grin. “Plus, I’m going to tell the judge what a vicious woman she is. She lied about me and got that fucking CPS to take my kids just because she knew her ex was hot for my ass, not hers!”
“Hmm, you’re going to testify at the trial?”
“You’re damn right I am. And according to the woman who’s helping me, my testimony is going to be the final nail in that haughty bitch’s coffin.”