Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association)

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Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) Page 16

by Olivia Jaymes


  “Leroy Wilson can kiss my lily-white ass,” he pronounced flatly. “He wants me to be a fucking hero with no budget and no trained deputies. He couldn’t find anyone else to be the sheriff of this backwater piece of shit town for what they pay me. If he wants my badge he can fucking have it.”

  “Calm down, Griffin.” An older gentleman with a lined face and silver hair was climbing the deck stairs. “No one wants your badge, least of all me. Leroy’s just blowing off steam like he always does. He likes to stir things up, you know.”

  “Hey, Otis.” Price shook hands with the older man. “You make it okay through that line of reporters?”

  The man named Otis smiled and sat down in Griffin’s recently vacated chair. “I pointed my truck in the direction I wanted to go and heaven help those who get in the way. They moved.”

  Otis held his hand out to her. “Hello, my dear. Councilman Otis McClintock. You must be Jazz Oliver.”

  “I must be,” she answered weakly, shaking his hand. “How bad is it?” She nodded toward the front of the house. Somewhere at the end of Griffin’s long driveway were a bunch of reporters hell-bent on getting a story.

  “It’s bad. I fear you are not going to get to leave here without your picture being taken. Is that a problem? I heard you’re an actress. Isn’t there a saying about no such thing as bad publicity?”

  Once glance at Griffin’s thunderous expression and she knew there wasn’t anything she would do to keep them both out of the papers. She didn’t care what opportunities it cost. Nothing was worth the misery he was obviously in.

  “I’m not sure that saying is accurate,” she said quietly, watching Griffin carefully. Right now he had his back to all three of them and was staring over the placid lake. Finally he turned around, his features set in stone.

  “Do I have your support, Otis, to run this investigation as I see fit? I won’t tolerate any interference from the council members. I mean it.”

  Griffin’s tone was one that brooked no nonsense and Otis seemed to pick up on it. He nodded vigorously even as he picked up an abandoned piece of toast and bit into it.

  “Of course, of course. This is your baby. I just need one favor.”

  “What’s that?” Griffin asked suspiciously, one eyebrow lifted in question.

  “Find the person that did this quickly. Today, if possible. Every day that passes makes us look more like some pissant town with a Barney Fife sheriff. People don’t want to visit or open businesses in places like that.”

  Jazz’s eyes went wide at the Barney Fife comment but as usual Griffin showed amazing control. He barely batted an eyelash but his teeth were gritted together in anger.

  “Might I remind you that it was you who brought these people here? It was you that said nothing bad would happen. I told you that I was understaffed but no one fucking listens to me around here.”

  Otis stood and brushed the toast crumbs from his shirt. “Make this go away,” he said bluntly. “I’ve got deals in the works and this is putting them in jeopardy.”

  “Are you threatening Griffin?” The incredulous words popped out of Jazz’s mouth before she could stop them. He looked like somebody’s grandfather, for heaven’s sake.

  “Of course not.” Otis smiled charmingly, but this time Jazz wasn’t in the mood to be swayed. “I simply let him know how important it is to get this cleared up as soon as possible. I love Griffin like a son.”

  “I’ve seen how you treat family,” Griffin snorted. “Count me out. But the message is received. No one wants this put to bed more than I do. Soon. If you want to be any help, call your buddies in Missoula. I need our evidence to go to the front of the line at the state lab. We can’t do much without it. This murder will be solved by forensics. No one is lining up to confess.”

  “Consider it done.” Otis bowed his head and headed toward the stairs. “Thanks for breakfast and good luck getting out of here. Do you want me to call Adam or anything?”

  “I’m the goddamn law in this town. We’ll get out of here.”

  Otis chuckled and disappeared around the corner of the house. Griffin pointed to Price.

  “You stay here with Jazz. I’ll get the nosy bastards outside to follow me into town by promising them a statement. When they’re all gone, get her out of here.”

  Jazz stood up to protest. If anyone should throw themselves on the sacrificial altar it was her. The show was the reason all this had happened. She might not have personally brought the show here but she was a part of the problem.

  “I’ll get them to follow me,” she urged. “You stay here. I can deal with this.”

  “You can deal with this?” Griffin was looking at her like she was insane. “You said before you’ve never even been in a tabloid until now. This is my town, and you’re my responsibility, Hollywood.”

  “I don’t want to be your responsibility,” she bristled, not liking that term in the least. “I can–”

  “Easy, honey. I meant that in a good way.” Griffin held up his hands in surrender. “Let me take care of this.”

  “Uh, can I suggest something here?” Price broke in. “I’ll drive my truck to the other side of the lake and wait for you there. You take your boat and escape across the water. I’ll drive you into town and you can pick up one of the SUVs there.”

  “That’s the first smart thing I’ve heard all morning,” Griffin sighed. “What about the press though? What will they do?”

  “Eventually they’ll figure out they’ve been tricked and they’ll head into town,” Jazz responded. “Then we’ll have a whole new problem trying to duck them.”

  “Why would we do that?” Griffin’s brows were pulled together in a frown. “We’ve got nothing to hide. I’m not ashamed that I spent the night with you. Are you ashamed of me?”

  “No, not at all,” she denied and his expression cleared. “I was just thinking of you, that’s all.”

  “The genie is out of the bottle, honey. No sense in trying to stuff it back in. It just makes us look like we have something to hide.” Griffin ran his fingers through his short cropped hair. “While we’re in town we need to get your stuff from the hotel.”

  “Why?” She wasn’t following Griffin’s train of thought clearly. There was no other hotel in Hope Lake to move her to, not that it would make any difference. They’d find her no matter what.

  “You’re checking out. I can’t protect you when you’re away from me. You’ll stay here until this madness is over.”

  Was the man that didn’t like women interfering and getting their things all over his house asking – no, telling her that he wanted her to move her stuff in? Even if it was only for a short time? This was personal growth for Griffin Sawyer.

  “That means that I’ll have stuff in the bathroom.” She tried to suppress a smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I might have stuff in your closet too. I may even want to watch something on television.”

  “For the love of fucking God, let’s just get your stuff. But just so we’re clear, I control the thermostat,” he warned, his tone disgusted as Price burst into laughter.

  “Holy shit, she knows what you’re like, bro,” he said, holding his sides and a grin on his face. “I can always take her to Mom and Dad’s if you can’t handle having a female guest.”

  Griffin did that growling thing again where he didn’t know what to say, or maybe he knew but the words were too rude. He pointed to the stairs and Price loped off with a wave.

  “Give me about twenty minutes then get in the boat.”

  Griffin’s grim expression didn’t change as he scooped up the plates and headed into the kitchen.

  “Come inside,” he commanded. “And wipe that smile off of your face. It’s not that damn funny.”

  Unable to control her mirth, she trailed after Griffin, her hand covering her mouth but it failed to mute the gales of laughter. She was about to move in – albeit temporarily – with the most avowed bachelor she’d ever met.

  And it was that damn funny
.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Have we heard anything from the lab? If not, give them another call. Also, bring me those statements we took yesterday from the contestants and crew. I want to go through them again.”

  Griffin barked out orders as he and Jazz walked through the station. They’d managed to escape the house without tipping off any reporters but it was a short-lived situation. He would have to make some statement to the press today about the state of the investigation.

  “Sit here, Hollywood, and I’ll have Adam get your statement.”

  Adam bustled over from the coffeemaker. “I’m on it, boss. I did call the crime lab and we’re tenth in line, and the statements are on your desk.”

  “Phone again in a few hours. Otis is supposed to call in a few favors from his friends in the capital. Jazz, give Adam your statement and then I’ll have him drive you to the hotel to check out.”

  “Do you always do this?” Her head was tilted to the side but she was smiling.

  “Do what?” He really didn’t have time for twenty questions today.

  “Order everyone around like a general. Does this usually work for you?”

  The little vixen was actually laughing at him again. She’d already made it known that she found their situation amusing. She should be damn grateful that he felt responsible for keeping her safe from the press but mostly she seemed to find it funny. He was the one that was going to be sharing his home for the foreseeable future but no one seemed to care about his sacrifice.

  Of course he could send her to his parents’ house but then the press would just hang out there and Griffin wouldn’t put his mom and dad through something like that. No, she would have to stay with him and he would just have to bite the bullet and deal with it. It probably wouldn’t be for that long.

  “Yes, it does work,” he responded before turning to Karla, his administrative assistant. She ran the office and took his messages. Not well, but then like most people in this office, Griffin had taken what he could get for the money. Maybe he could use some of the television cash and hire more office help. “Karla, do I have any messages?”

  The tall and skinny brunette shoved a stack of papers in his hand. “Several. By the way, I quit.”

  It was only with her words that he even noticed that she had her purse slung over her shoulder and a sour expression.

  “What do you mean you quit? What’s wrong today?”

  Karla had various complaints, mostly to do with the hours, working conditions, and the pay. She didn’t like her desk. She didn’t like the sound of a ringing phone. She didn’t like talking on the phone. And she didn’t like making coffee.

  “I’ve been dealing with a phone ringing off the hook since the minute I got here,” she huffed.

  “That’s your job,” he reminded her tightly. He had damn near come to the end of his patience and that was saying something.

  “Not anymore. You don’t pay me enough to do this.” Turning on her heel, Karla was out the door without a backward glance.

  “Good riddance,” Adam muttered. “What a royal bitch. I didn’t want to say anything, boss, but that woman was simply unpleasant in every way she could be.”

  Griffin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “You should have said something before. She was walking a thin line with me anyway. If I knew she wasn’t treating you guys well I would have let her go.”

  “She’s gone now.” Adam shrugged and sat down next to Jazz who had silently watched the exchange. “Let’s get going, Jazz, so you can get out of this craziness.”

  Griffin left Adam and Jazz to it and went straight back to his office, closing the door behind him. Flipping through the messages, he had a few from the local news reporters that he knew personally and a few from journalists he’d never heard from before. He picked up one message and started to smile. Jared. Hopefully he had some information that would help the investigation.

  Picking up the receiver, Griffin punched in a few numbers and waited for Jared to answer.

  “Monroe.”

  “Hey, it’s Griffin. I got your message. Tell me something good, buddy.”

  “I’m about to tell you something you are not going to like,” Jared warned. “That guy Wayne you had me check out. You said he was ex-military. He’s not ex-anything. His real name is Wayne LaDuke and he’s employed by The Latest magazine. You know the one where you and Jazz are front and center? Looks like you’ve got a fox in the henhouse.”

  Griffin clutched the phone tighter in his hand, wishing it was Wayne’s neck under his fingers or maybe even Tony’s. He didn’t like being made a fool of and those two had done a number on him. Griffin had known in his gut there was no way Wayne could have been in the military but he’d trusted Tony’s bios. How many of them were smoke and mirrors?

  “I know just what to do with a fox. Anything else?”

  “Yeah, that Tony guy, the producer-director? Seems he’s got something of a temper. He’s been arrested twice for domestic battery with a former girlfriend. Charges were dropped, and from what I’ve been able to find the network buried the story.”

  “That’s very interesting. Seems like I’ve got a couple of people I need to talk to again.”

  “I don’t envy you this case. It’s hard enough to solve a crime but to do it with a bunch of reporters watching you? That’s bullshit.”

  Griffin couldn’t agree more but the situation was what it was. “I know, but there’s nothing to be done now. No sense closing the barn door if all the horses are out. I’ve got to make a statement to the press sometime today too. Shit, I hate this. A week ago my life was normal.”

  “Normal is a state of mind,” Jared retorted. “Listen, I need to run. I’ve got a full workload here and all this research as well.”

  “I really appreciate your help. I owe you a steak dinner at King’s.”

  “You bet I’ll collect. See you.”

  Jared hung up and Griffin sifted through the rest of the messages. They could all wait. He stood and opened his office door to yell for Adam to bring in the current suspects for a second interrogation but was shocked to see Jazz at Karla’s desk. Cradling the phone between her head and shoulder, she was typing something into the computer.

  “What’s Jazz doing?” Adam was standing at the printer hopefully completing Jazz’s statement. “Is that her statement?”

  “Yep, all she needs to do is sign it.” Adam grinned and puffed out his chest with pride. “She volunteered to stick around and help in any way she could so I put her to work at Karla’s desk. I think she’s doing a pretty good job.”

  If Jazz hadn’t yelled at anyone or made bad coffee she was already doing better than Karla ever had, but this kind of work probably wasn’t her idea of fun. He waited until she hung up before leaning down so his palms were on the desk, their heads close together.

  “Hollywood, what are you doing?”

  He kept his voice low. His business wasn’t everyone else’s business.

  She looked up, merriment in her eyes. “Helping. What does it look like? No wait, don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want an honest answer. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I do have some rudimentary computer skills and I’m good with people. So far I’ve answered three phone calls and no one yelled or anything.”

  “Okay, I know what you’re doing—why don’t you let me in on the why you’re doing it.”

  “You need the help.” Such a simple statement but it made Griffin’s heart twist in his chest. Her expression was honest and direct, those blue eyes wide and innocent. She simply wanted to make his day a little easier.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? I can have Adam take you back to the house,” he offered, trying to give her an out. She didn’t have to do this if she didn’t really want to.

  “And just sit there doing nothing or watching television?” Jazz wrinkled her cute little nose. “No, thank you. I’d rather be busy. Are you okay with it?”

  Her uncertain expre
ssion about did him in. He smiled reassuringly and patted her hand. “Of course you can stay. I’m thankful for the help. It’s going to get crazy around here.”

  She nodded as the phone rang again and he turned his attention back to Adam. “Get Tony Albright, Gordon Schofield, Danny Molton, and Wayne LaDuke, better known as Wayne Larker, in here. I want to talk to them. Bring them in the back door.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” Adam dropped the statement on Jazz’s new desk and picked up his keys from the file cabinet. “What are you going to do about the reporters outside?”

  “I’m going to make a goddamn statement, that’s what I’m going to do,” Griffin grated. If he gave them some information, they just might leave him alone. “Now.”

  Adam scurried out of the front door and Griffin stood there thinking about what he was going to say. And not say. A great deal was riding on his ability to hold things together around here and keep control.

  “Are you really going to make a statement?”

  Jazz’s soft voice pulled his from his unpleasant thoughts. “I have to. They’re like rabid dogs out there. They won’t be satisfied until I throw some raw meat at them.”

  “Raw meat? I’m not sure I like the sound of that, Griffin.” Jazz tapped a pencil against a pad of paper, her expression one of concern. “Do you want me to be there with you when you do it?”

  “Yes, both you and Levi. Maybe Peggy as well. You know, in the military they would have called this a diversionary tactic.”

  “Diversion?”

  Griffin smiled as his thoughts became clear in his mind. He knew what to do and say. He had Uncle Sam to thank for it.

  “Call the hotel and get Levi and Peggy here. I’m going to give the press some homework. I might as well put them to work since they’re here.”

  “You’re starting to scare me.”

  Laughing at the dry tone in her voice, Griffin simply shook his head. “On the contrary, for the first time today I’m starting to think clearly. Just watch, Hollywood. Today we throw the dogs a bone and let them keep busy fighting over it.”

 

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