by Quinn Avery
“I don’t know…I just can’t seem to shake this cold.”
As she hung up, Grayson nudged the door open. With the sight of his handsome, unassuming smile, Bexley nearly crumpled to the floor. For the first time since they’d parted ways, she yearned for his comfort, and wished he’d wrap her in his arms…tell her everything would be okay. Even though she was strong enough to take care of herself, she had to admit there were a lot of situations she wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for her network of friends. If it weren’t for Grayson in particular.
His brow wrinkled as he closed the door. “What’s wrong?”
Glancing at the two white Pollo’s bags clasped in his fist, her stomach growled. In light of Brewer’s news, she’d forgotten Grayson’s promise to deliver her favorite. “It seems I’m what the kids now days call ‘hangry’.” She met his gaze. “Did you get the footage?”
He set the bags on her desk and nodded. “At first the manager tried to give me the runaround. Once I flashed my badge, he was quick to accommodate my request.”
Bexley ran her bottom lip between her teeth, releasing it with a quiet pop. “I’m working on a new theory, but I don’t want to say anything until we’ve watched the feed. I want your feedback first.”
“Sit down and eat,” he commanded. “I’ll get it going on your laptop.”
She dug into the first bag, grinning with the sight of Pollo’s familiar handwriting scrawled in black grease pen on the first taco she grabbed. For mi amiga Bexley with extra queso. Have a nice day. :)
She wasn’t surprised to find her favorite pineapple flavored Mexican soda in the second bag alongside Grayson’s favorite lemon-lime. She set the remaining two tacos on the other side of the desk, and began indulging in her delicious taco while Grayson stuck a USB stick into the side of her MacBook. With a few quick clicks, Grayson had the security footage up and rolling.
Four different angles appeared on a split screen. Two appeared to show opposite sides of the stage where chairs were arranged for the audience, and two more recorded different areas backstage. At the time of the recording, the facility was empty aside from a handful of clothing racks.
“Kiersten didn’t have access to the venue until eight o’clock that morning,” Grayson explained as he sat across from Bexley, “so that’s when they started the recording.”
“This will take hours to review,” Bexley grumbled.
With a taco in hand, Grayson bent forward to type something into the computer. The digital clock displayed at the top of the videos sped up until minutes became seconds. “Holler if you see anything, and I can slow it down or go back.”
While chewing the last of her taco, Bexley rubbed at her aching temple and checked her phone to see if Brewer had replied. She didn’t know how long she could be locked inside her office with Grayson before she lost her mind. It wasn’t her style to sit around when there were cases that needed solving.
“You need to look into a desktop monitor, Bex. Staring all day at this little screen is going to give you migraines. I can have the IT guy at the station hook you up.”
“I can manage,” she said before slugging down her soda. She kind of dug the fact that he was still looking out for her welfare, but she could have Red set her up with better equipment.
She opened the file she’d created for Kiersten’s case and angled it for Grayson to see. “These are the three main players we want to keep an eye out for.” She pointed at the picture of Nick in uniform that Red pulled off PS Security’s website. “This is the security guard assigned to the earrings.” She thumbed through the papers until she found a headshot of Simone. “This is the model who wore them.” Then she found one of Travis’s mugshots. “And this is the model’s brother. His involvement in this heist is under question.” Her eyes flickered back to her laptop as Kiersten appeared on the footage. “We can’t rule anyone out at this point, but my money’s on these suspects. It’s possible they were even working together.”
Grayson nodded. “Noted. How’s Kiersten holding up?”
“She sent a text earlier to see if I had any new information, and commented that she was feeling optimistic about my involvement. I have a feeling she only said it as a way to assure herself I have more skills than a talking dog and his stoner friend.”
Grayson reached across her desk, curling one of his large hands around hers. “Don’t you dare start doubting yourself again,” he scolded with a hard look. “We’ve been through this too many times. Solving cases is your calling, Bex. No one who does it for a living is perfect.”
Warmth from his touch zinged up her arm, settling in her spine. It was the spark of assurance she’d been wanting since he stepped inside her office. It was also a glimpse of what she could have if she’d stop being too stubborn to give him another chance. Her mouth became dry as she held his stare, wondering if she was crazy for resisting the love and affection of a kind, hardworking man.
She intended to ask him if he wanted to come by her place later when her cell phone dinged several times, interrupting their moment. She withdrew her hand from Grayson’s to find a string of texts from the burner phone she’d given Brewer.
Moonlight Falls park @ 5 tonight
Behind the maintenance shed on south end
Make sure u r not followed
Finally, Bexley thought, feeling a rush of relief. At least he was alive.
Then there was a knock on Bexley’s office door. By the firm, swift sound, Bexley knew to expect J.J. to come breezing through the doorway. What she wasn’t expecting was the stern look her boss threw her before realizing she wasn’t alone. He dipped his chin in Grayson’s direction as Grayson paused the video.
“Good to see you again, son,” J.J. drawled. “What brings you by?”
“He’s helping me on a case,” Bexley blurted. She wasn’t comfortable telling him that she’d neglected all her other cases to assist not only one, but two friends in need. Besides, she suspected by the gleam in J.J.’s eyes that he hoped the detective was there on personal business. “What can I help you with, J.J.?”
“Got the Currie County Sheriff’s office on the line.” Tugging at the diamond stud in his ear, the old man tilted his head. “They’re callin’ to inquire about your involvement with Brewer Hawkins. Somethin’ about you payin’ a visit to his room at Big Dick’s Inn?”
Bexley’s stomach clenched. Shit. So much for Big Dick’s discretion.
Heat rushed through her cheeks when she felt the weight of Grayson’s stare. “You and Hawkins?” he asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
Refusing to entertain the question, her eyes remained steady on J.J.. “I have nothing to hide,” she insisted, despite the glaring lie. “We’re friends.”
She was relieved Grayson couldn’t witness the look of doubt taking over J.J.’s expression. The way his eyebrows raised, she was certain he already made the connection between Brewer and her “friend’s” involvement when she had asked about researching a death in Mexico. “Then I’m guessin’ you already know about the warrant out for this friend’s arrest? They’re requestin’ you pay a visit to their office to answer a few questions.”
Expecting Grayson to lay into her about the company she kept in his absence, she was shocked to hear him say, “Considering your track record with Sheriff Blair, it sounds to me like you better pay Luke a visit first.” He drummed his fingers against the desk before he stood. “I’ll drive.”
Although Bexley was convinced Grayson had volunteered to come along because he wanted to hear the details of her “relationship” with Brewer, she was grateful for the suggestion. She was even more thankful when Grayson let her know he’d wait in the lobby.
By the time she sat across from Luke in the Jacobs & Johnson Law Firm downtown, he had already placed several crucial calls and received an email from the sheriff’s office.
“I can’t make sense of this,” he told Bexley, running a hand through his thick, jet black hair while studying a piece of paper. “I dug a
round a little, and cashed in on a few favors to get more information. According to this, the request for the search warrant on Brewer Hawkins’s motel room was verbally made by the acting district attorney. In the application submitted to the judge, it states the request was made by the sheriff after an anonymous tip was called in.”
Bexley held a hand to her mouth, feigning surprise. “You’re telling me the powers that be in Papaya Springs may be hiding something? The horror.”
Luke looked up at her, his friendly brown eyes shining with amusement. “I guess that’s not exactly a new flash. But why hide the origin of the request?”
“Hmmm. Considering the stellar elected officials the city attorney represents, it also wouldn’t be a revelation to learn there were ulterior motives involved.”
“Would you be referring to Mayor Hoffman?” Luke asked, quirking a lone eyebrow.
“What if he decided to come after me again? What if he knows I’ve been spending time with Brewer? You can’t sit there and tell me that would be out of character, all things considered.”
“I can agree with you that the mayor might be holding a grudge against you considering your history, but you’re beginning to sound a little paranoid.” With a sigh, Luke steepled his fingers together. “Bex, if there’s anything else I should know about your involvement in Brewer Hawkins’s case, now’s the time to disclose everything.” Leaning back in his chair, his eyes flashed in the direction of the hallway. “As my client, this conversation will remain confidential.”
Bexley was well aware that in addition to dating her best friend, Luke had a long-running friendship with Grayson. She was also confident that Luke was a professional, and wouldn’t indulge in gossip.
“Brewer’s become a good friend, but more importantly, he’s my client,” she admitted. “I was hired to investigate something…unrelated to the drugs they found in his storage unit.” She paused, scraping her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well, at least I first assumed it was unrelated. I was convinced the Brewer Hawkins I’d been spending time with wasn’t capable of any wrongdoing. Now…I’m not so sure. Either way, I can’t tell the sheriff everything I know about Brewer’s situation. At least not until I’ve looked into a few things.”
“How deep are you into this thing?”
“Maybe not as deep as Wille Nelson’s love for weed, but close.”
Tapping his fingers against his chair, Luke briefly pressed his lips together, deep in thought. “Do you know his current whereabouts?”
“As of this morning, no.”
“Before that?”
She flashed a stiff smile. “Is pleading the fifth to your own lawyer a thing?”
With an unsatisfied grunt, Luke pressed a button on his office phone. “Sharon, call Sheriff Blair’s office to let him know I’m bringing Bexley Squires in for questioning, then reschedule my next two appointments.”
“I’m on it,” Sharon’s bright voice answered through the speaker system.
While adjusting his sky blue designer tie, Luke slowly rose to his feet. “We both know that son of a bitch will try his best to prod you into saying something to incriminate yourself. Do me a favor, and don’t say anything unless I scribble a reply on my notepad.”
“I’ll do my best,” she answered truthfully, trailing behind him to the doorway. “Although keeping my lips zipped when it comes to defending myself isn’t exactly my forte.”
Hand on the doorknob, Luke turned to face her. “I mean it. Don’t provoke him into holding you any longer than necessary.” His brows lowered. “Kiersten is counting on you to save her from the mess she’s in.”
“You’re sweet to worry about her, but I’m getting close,” Bexley promised. She wrapped a hand around his arm and gave a gentle squeeze. “Focus on getting the sheriff off my back, and I’ll focus on getting my hands on those earrings.”
8
In the sheriff’s lair, Grayson and Luke both stood behind Bexley as she checked in with the front desk. She had to admit she drew courage from the fact that the two men supported her no matter what, although her conscience grew heavier every time she caught one of Grayson’s terse smiles.
Deputy Danks breezed past, stopping in his tracks when he noticed them. The young deputy greeted Luke and Grayson before he turned to Bexley, his youthful features lifting with a wide smile. “Long time no see, Squires. What brings you here this time?”
“Pictures with the sheriff. I figure I’ve been spending enough quality time with him that we may as well send out Christmas cards together. You know, to save on postage.”
With the sound of several men’s deep laughter, Bexley looked over her shoulder as Mayor Hoffman exited the sheriff’s office, surrounded by his cronies. The mayor’s dark eyes locked with Bexley’s, and his jolly expression morphed into a triumphant sneer.
“Anyone else feel a rush of pure adoration?” she asked.
“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Luke warned.
“Too late,” she answered through gritted teeth. “He’s already festering in it…like a leper.”
Mayor Hoffman continued to hold Bexley’s stare for a moment longer before he strolled out with his small entourage in tow. In that moment, Bexley was certain that some way, somehow, the mayor was behind the reason she’d been called in for questioning.
Next to exit the room was Grayson’s supervisor. Lieutenant Baker’s expression became perplexed when he spotted Grayson. Bexley hadn’t seen him since his daughter almost died of alcohol poisoning, courtesy of the sisters at Kappa Kappa Delta. He’d put on a considerable amount of weight since their last encounter, appearing grossly obese, and his dark beard had almost completely turned stark white.
“I thought you were taking the day off, Rivers,” Lieutenant Baker scoffed.
Grayson shrugged. “I’m here on a personal matter.”
“I gathered as much.” The lieutenant’s gaze honed in on Bexley. “I was told you’ve been keeping questionable company.”
“What’s questionable is the way you’re assuming Brewer Hawkins’ culpability,” Bexley retorted, dipping her chin. “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
The lieutenant grunted before turning back to Grayson. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He promptly left. Sheriff Blair became the lone man remaining from the conference. The portly man leaned against the door frame of his office, watching Bexley while scratching his chin. She half expected him to twirl the edges of his dark mustache like the villain in a silent film.
“He’s all bark and rarely bites,” Deputy Danks whispered, patting Bexley’s shoulder and chuckling as he walked away.
“Here’s hoping he’s up to date on his shots,” Bexley muttered.
In the same interrogation room in which Bexley had been questioned after being kidnapped, drugged, and accused of performing egregious harm to a falsified victim, Sheriff Blair stood rigid behind the metal table. He nudged the edge of his cowboy hat upward, revealing his neatly trimmed hairline. “I’m assuming you brought counsel because you have something to hide.”
Bexley held her hand to the side of her mouth. “You know what they say about assumptions, Sheriff. They make an ass outta you and—well, in your case—you.”
With a harsh cough, Luke elbowed Bexley’s side. He then scribbled on his notepad and held it up for her to read.
zip it! seriously!
“It’s my understanding you’ve become…close…with Brewer Hawkins,” the sheriff drawled, crossing his arms. “Would this happen to be on an intimate level?”
“My client’s relationship with Mr. Hawkins is of a professional nature,” Luke answered in a sharp tone. “Accordingly, she won’t be commenting on their privileged communications.”
Sheriff Blair didn’t acknowledge him in any way as he continued leering at Bexley. “I’ve been told you’re spending a curious amount of time with Mr. Hawkins. In fact, you were witnessed entering his motel room on several occasions. Are you going to sit there a
nd pretend you don’t have any knowledge of his criminal activities?”
Bexley propped an elbow on the table and twirled a lock of her brown hair. “Sounds as if you’ve been keeping close tabs on me, Sheriff. Either you’re jonesing to catch me doing something unsavory—and I’m assuming it’s on behalf of someone with sinister motives—or you’re building up the courage to ask me out.” She batted her eyelashes. “If it’s the latter, that would explain why you’re still single. Stalking is never the right way to win a girl’s heart.”
Luke pinched the backside of Bexley’s bicep, causing her to squeak.
The sheriff’s face turned dark red as he held Bexley’s stare, stabbing his pointer finger against the table. “What were you doing inside his motel room on Sunday evening?” he demanded. “Are you simply hiding the fact that you’re sleeping with a criminal, or are you also involved in trafficking those drugs?”
Luke pushed away from the table and stood. “This isn’t an interrogation, it’s straight-up harassment. Unless you’re going to charge my client with something substantial, we’ll be on our way.”
Bexley stood along with Luke, throwing the sheriff a terse look before they headed for the exit. She was sure he’d validated her fear that the mayor had been watching her every move. But how much did they know? Would they charge her with harboring a fugitive?
“I’m onto you, Squires!” the sheriff yelled behind them.
From the sharp look Grayson shot her in the hallway, she almost wondered if he’d heard their entire conversation. “Everything good?” he asked through a clenched jaw.
“He doesn’t have anything on her,” Luke answered. As the trio started back toward the parking lot, he side-eyed Bexley. “Try to lay low. You don’t want to give anything that’ll make the sheriff more suspicious. And let me know if I can do anything that would expedite Kiersten’s case.”
