Hopefully they would take the bait.
* * * *
Griffin stood at a makeshift podium in front of the sheriff’s station. Surrounded by reporters holding out microphones along with a couple of satellite trucks and cameras, he appeared to be calm, cool, and completely in control. Jazz, standing just behind him and next to Levi and Peggy, couldn’t help but admire his self-possession. If this bothered him, and she was pretty sure it did, it didn’t show in the least.
“Do you know why we’re here?” Levi whispered in Jazz’s ear.
“It’s exciting just to be on the news. I hope my mother sees this,” enthused Peggy. “This is really cool.”
Jazz wasn’t as convinced. She’d always dreamed about being in the spotlight, but now that it had happened it wasn’t nearly as exciting as she’d imagined. In fact, having all these cameras stuck in her face really kind of sucked. It wasn’t glamorous at all.
“I’m not really sure,” she admitted. “Griffin wanted us here while he makes a statement about the case.”
“Poor Sandy,” Peggy sighed. “So young and pretty.”
“Poor sheriff.” Levi nodded to where Griffin was waiting patiently while the crowd milled around him. Citizens of the town must have heard what was going on because the throng was growing exponentially. “He’s under a microscope. No one should have to solve a murder under those conditions. Especially not a private man like him.”
“Can everyone quiet down?” Griffin’s deep commanding tones boomed from the microphone and the crowd quickly hushed. He held up a piece of paper and began to speak. “I have a short statement and then I will take a few questions.”
You could have heard a pin drop on the pavement. He had their complete and undivided attention.
“My name is Sheriff Griffin Sawyer and I have been a resident of Hope Lake my entire life except for a couple of trips to Afghanistan. I have been the head lawman for the last five years. If you want to know anything more about me, my biography is on the town website.”
There were a few murmurings and Jazz was sure several people had just pulled out their phones and were searching for more information about the handsome sheriff.
“Yesterday afternoon the body of a young woman, Sandy Dunham, was found by two local men. Preliminary time of death from the coroner is estimated to be around noon. The medical examiner has not given an official cause of death but there were ligature marks around her neck and defensive marks on her body. Any DNA or trace evidence found has been sent to the state crime lab. Yesterday my deputies and I interviewed the contestants, producers, and crew of the show. After confirming the details, we were able to eliminate several people as suspects including the crew and the three contestants you see behind you. The investigation will continue today as we talk to persons of interest and receive information back from the lab.”
Griffin raised his head from the statement and looked out over what must look like a sea of faces to him.
“I will take a few questions.” A dozen hands shot up and voices rose until he held up his hands. “One at a time or this press conference comes to an end.”
Griffin pointed to one of the men in the first row. “How about you start?”
“Sheriff Sawyer, you say these people have been eliminated. On what basis?”
“Solid alibis,” Griffin replied, his expression flat but serious. “Levi Collins and Peggy Stahley were both with Deputy Adam at the time of the murder in the station house behind me. Jazz Oliver and I were in another town investigating another case. Next question.”
A woman pushed to the front, a microphone held out. “Sheriff, are you and Jazz Oliver having an affair?”
If Jazz had expected Griffin to be angry she was disappointed. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his features. It was as if the reporter had asked him the price of milk. It was that crazy patience and control he’d learned as one of ten kids.
“I don’t see what that has to do with the investigation but I’ll answer it anyway. Neither Jazz or I are married to other people, so the answer is no, we are not having an affair.”
“But are you sleeping together?” the woman persisted. “She was seen entering your home last night and no one saw her leave.”
This time an eyebrow lifted just a little and his silver eyes turned a flinty charcoal. He leaned forward so his lips were close to the microphone. “I’m only going to say this once so I want to be very clear. Jazz Oliver is under my protection. You can twist and turn that any way you want. You will anyway. Let me say something else while I’m at it. Hope Lake is my town. These residents depend on me to protect them, and nothing will keep me from doing that. If any of you get in the way, or harass the good people of this town, the information flowing from my office to you will come to a halt. A complete stop. Do we understand each other? Good. Next question.”
The crowd pressed forward and questions and answers were volleyed back and forth. The reporters seemed slightly more subdued after Griffin had given them the evil eye speech and no one referred to anymore hanky or panky—the questions focused on the investigation.
“One more question, Sheriff.” A tall man in the back raised his hand. “What was the motive for this murder?”
“We don’t know yet,” Griffin stated flatly. “That is still a question unanswered. Why would anyone hurt this young woman?”
The man scribbled frantically on his notepad and Jazz began to see Griffin’s genius. The press was going to dig into the background of Sandy, of course. If there was any dirt, they would find it, but that wasn’t the important thing. Griffin had given them something to grab and work with. He’d given them a bone to chew while he got on with the investigation.
Griffin held up both hands and took a step back. “No more questions. Thank you.”
Voices rang out with additional queries but Griffin ignored them all, corralling Jazz, Levi, and Peggy into the station. He pointed to the coffee machine and then back to the front door.
“Help yourself to some coffee while the reporters disperse. Unless, of course, you want to be in the papers or on TV. If so, you’re free to go.”
Jazz watched him head back to the interrogation room and she hurried to catch up with him, wrapping her hand around his heavily muscled arm.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
Griffin chuckled and smiled, those gray eyes no longer cold and hard. “While all the press was out front, I had Wayne, Danny, Tony, and Gordon snuck in the back entrance for a second session of questions.”
Jazz slapped her forehead at his underhanded yet ingenious moves. “It wasn’t enough that you sent them off to find someone with a motive for Sandy’s murder. You also tricked them.”
“Are you taking their side?” he asked with a widening grin and she shook her head. “I don’t need them sticking their nose into my case. All of these men might be innocent and I don’t want their lives torn apart by an overzealous reporter.”
“As I said, you are really starting to scare me.”
“I take that as a compliment.” He touched the brim of his hat in a mock salute. “Can you order some lunch from the diner? Just call there, they know the drill. Add whatever you want too. I’m going to be hungry when I’m done.”
Jazz decided she never wanted to tangle with Griffin when it came to the law. She’d stick to answering the phones.
He was too smart, too devious, and way too sexy.
Chapter Nineteen
Griffin’s interrogation with Danny had been boring but fruitful. With hardly any pressure, the young man had finally admitted to where he was midday yesterday. He’d been locked in his hotel room with one of the waitresses from the diner and they hadn’t been playing board games or watching television. Adam had been dispatched to the restaurant to bring the confused female to the station.
Griffin personally questioned her in his own office away from Danny. The trembling and crying girl admitted the deed and fearfully asked if anyone needed to know. It was a good question as the
waitress was dating a young man over in Harper and had been for quite awhile. When Griffin asked why she’d put her relationship in danger, she’d said she simply wanted a “brush with fame” as she’d phrased it.
Acknowledging the situation she was in, Griffin told her he’d try and keep it out of the press but it would go in the official case file. Hopefully none of the reporters would care what Danny’s actual alibi was, only that he had one.
Wayne was the next one brought into the room. Drinking a cup of coffee, the man sat across the table from Griffin, his expression one of extreme annoyance. Apparently he’d been in the middle of something when he’d been called to the station.
Too fucking bad.
“Do you have any objections to this interview being taped and then transcribed?” Griffin asked.
“No, let’s just get this over with. I have things to do.” Wayne’s fingers were drumming on the table top in a testy manner.
“I’ll try to be as expeditious as possible.” Griffin pressed the record button on the laptop. “For the record, state your name, please.”
“Wayne Larker.”
“Do you want to stick with that answer?” Griffin leaned forward and made sure their gazes met. After a long moment, Wayne looked down at the table.
“My name is Wayne LaDuke but it seems you already knew that. Not bad for a small town sheriff.”
“I do what I can,” Griffin answered, keeping his own words brief. This wasn’t about him and all about Wayne. “Tell me where you were and what you were doing between eleven and one yesterday.”
Some internal struggle crossed the man’s face but he finally blew out a long breath and slumped in his chair. “I was filing a story with my magazine over in Springwood. The coffee shop there has Wi-Fi.”
“Was it another story about me and Jazz?” Ice dripped from his voice and Wayne winced before answering.
“No, this one was about Danny and the waitress he was seeing,” he said, still staring at the table but at least the tapping of his fingers on the wood had ceased. Anger churned up Griffin’s stomach acid and he had to swallow down the rising bile in his throat.
“That young girl is going to be in your rag tomorrow?” he asked, keeping the pressure up with a hard tone to his voice. This man didn’t give a shit about the lives he played with, only caring about the payday at the end.
Shifting uncomfortably in the chair, Wayne nodded. “That and the murder. Shit, it’s my job, Sheriff.”
Every cell in Griffin’s body wanted to tell this man how sickening his actions were, how selfish and self-centered he was. But Griffin had too many years of practicing control to let it out. Instead he pushed away his disgust and continued the interview. His personal emotions were a luxury he couldn’t afford right now.
“Do you have anyone who can verify your whereabouts?”
Wayne looked up and nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. My editor and several people in the coffee shop. I ate there too. Cheesecake.”
“How did you even get there and what phone did you use? Tony took all of your phones.”
“I borrowed one of the crew trucks. They were all hanging out in the diner and no one was using any of them. All the keys were just sitting out on the production table in the office after they filmed Sandy’s departure.”
“The office? You mean the hotel room they’re using as a center of operations?”
“Yes, that one. No one was in there so it was easy, really.”
Wayne tugged at his collar as if it was too tight. Good, he should be uncomfortable considering what he’d pulled.
“And the phone?” Griffin asked, trying to keep the man focused.
“The box of phones he took from us are in that office unguarded. I slipped in, got the keys and my phone, went to Springwood because I heard it’s the biggest town around this area, filed my story, then slipped everything back before anyone noticed. Everyone was upset about Sandy so no one noticed me.”
Incompetence reigned. So much for keeping the competitors isolated and all that shit. Jazz hadn’t needed to steal Griffin’s phone. She could have stolen her own.
“I’ll check out your story,” Griffin nodded. “Now tell me what you know about Sandy and don’t leave anything out.”
Wayne heaved a put-upon sigh but began to speak. “According to what I’ve been able to find out, which isn’t much, is that Sandy is a college dropout who picked up her life and moved to New York to become a famous actress on Broadway. She’s never had an actual part and from what I’ve heard has no discernible acting, singing, or dancing talent.”
“Then what does she have?” Griffin asked, giving Wayne a hard look but silently cursing Tony. This didn’t sound like the cheery, sunshine filled bio that Griffin had read.
“Balls. Not real ones,” Wayne amended hastily. “She’s got confidence. She’s one of those people who can walk into a room of millionaires and think they’re inferior. That they’d be lucky to know her.”
“So she had rich boyfriends?”
Wayne shrugged. “She’s been photographed with some real estate tycoons. They’ll be in the paper tomorrow.”
“I want those pictures.” Griffin’s fingers tapped on the table. “Here in this office. Have your magazine send them to me. Today.”
“Yeah, whatever. Can I go now? That’s all I really know.” Wayne spread his arms wide as if he was helpless.
“One more question. Were you and Tony in on this together? Did he put you on the show to get publicity?”
“Fuck, no. Tony and my editor do not get along. Don’t know the whole story but they pretty much hate each other’s guts. I had to get on the show just like everyone else. Now can I go?”
“I’ll call over to Springwood and confirm your story. Don’t leave Hope Lake in the meantime,” Griffin warned, although he was pretty sure the reporter was telling the truth.
“I won’t,” Wayne laughed. “This is the story of a lifetime.”
Griffin shot the man such a look of dislike his smile immediately disappeared and he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I mean, I’ll just go back to my hotel room and read,” Wayne said quickly, his skin pale.
“Right. You’ll just read.” Griffin didn’t believe it for a minute but if the man was innocent, and Griffin was pretty sure he was, there was nothing he could legitimately do to stop him from reporting on the happenings in town or on the case.
Griffin stuck his head out of the door and motioned for Adam to escort Wayne out of the back entrance. Three people were sitting on the bench outside of the interrogation room, Tony, Gordon, and someone Griffin had never seen. Wearing an expensive suit and carrying a briefcase, the person could only be a lawyer.
“You’re next,” Griffin said pointing to Tony. “Let’s go.”
Tony stood right along with the man in the suit. Griffin knew where this was going. Tony had lawyered up. The man held out his hand.
“I’m Ambrose Tell, an attorney from Beverly Hills. The network asked me to be here to make sure that Tony and Gordon’s rights weren’t being infringed upon.”
Suuurrre. Just looking out for their rights.
Griffin shook the attorney’s hand and ushered them both into the office with Gordon trailing behind. Ambrose put his hand on Gordon’s shoulder and smiled. “I’d like my clients to be questioned together, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind, actually,” Griffin worked to keep his voice even despite the ever growing frustration he was feeling with this case. Every time he thought he’d found a lead the only place it sent him was a dead end. “It’s common practice for each person of interest to be interviewed separately.”
“And they were yesterday, I believe,” the lawyer responded smoothly. It was probably why he was making hundreds of dollars an hour. “But I’m afraid I can’t allow that to happen today. Together or nothing.”
Making sure his features didn’t reveal the argument raging inside of him, Griffin eventually nodded curtly and o
pened the door wider so they could all enter the room. He needed to talk to Tony and if that meant Gordon had to sit in, so be it.
While the three men settled into their chairs, Griffin stuck his head around the corner and hissed to get Jazz’s attention.
“Pssst.” Jazz looked up, her expression puzzled. “Did anything get delivered for me?”
Her face relaxed into a smile and she picked up a stack of envelopes and handed them over. “Just ten minutes ago. What are they?”
“Leverage,” he said and twisted around, looking through the papers one by one. With a satisfied smile, he re-entered the interrogation room and sat across the table from the three men.
“So,” he began, letting his gaze wander to each man and back again. Tony looked nervous, tugging at his collar, the attorney looked cool and calm, while Gordon looked angry as if he didn’t want to be there. “I haven’t been able to nail down your alibis for yesterday. Tony, according to your own network, you were on the phone from eleven to twelve. That still gives you time to commit the murder.”
“I didn’t kill Sandy,” Tony rasped, sweat popping out on his forehead. “I liked her. She was a good kid.”
“Then tell me where you were after the phone call.” Griffin needed to keep the pressure on Tony, never letting the man relax or feel comfortable.
“He was with me,” Gordon interrupted. “We were in Tony’s room going over the schedule for next week. That’s what I told you yesterday. Stop badgering him.”
The shorter man’s face was red, his hands in fists. It appeared Gordon was very protective of his boss.
“Is that true?” Griffin kept his attention on Tony, barely glancing at Gordon. It would be his turn eventually.
Tony nodded eagerly. “Yes. I just don’t keep track of the time very well. That’s Gordon’s job.”
The attorney stood, his chair making a scraping sound on the worn linoleum. “Are we done now, Sheriff? Both men have iron-clad alibis.”
Griffin looked from one man to the other and smiled. “What they have are each other. Each man is swearing the other was with him without any outside corroboration. That might be a strong alibi in Beverly Hills, but here in Montana it’s just words.”
Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) Page 17
