"You goddamned son of a bitch," the stranger growled.
Dirk shoved him. "Get the fuck away from me."
"No effing way." The man pulled out a knife and drove it deep into Dirk's big belly. He yanked up on the blade, and with a surprised groan, Dirk dropped to his knees. The stranger twisted the knife before jerking it free and wiping it on Dirk's shirt. "That'll teach you to screw with my woman, you pig."
With a bitter laugh, he left Dirk to bleed out and jumped into a battered black pickup truck parked only a few feet away. Seconds later, he roared off into the night, spewing gravel as he whipped from the parking lot.
Keegan looked around, hoping someone else had seen the attack, but the area was empty. Even the couple making out against the wall had disappeared.
"Damn you, Dirk." Even though she'd been about to kill him herself, she dashed over to him and pressed two fingers to his neck. He had a weak, thready pulse and was fading fast. Blood poured from the wound in his gut.
He opened his eyes. Even though they were glazed with pain, a flash of recognition, topped by resignation, crossed his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but only emitted a watery surge of red-tinted liquid. It dripped down his chin to pool on his chest.
"I know you killed Jenny, Dirk." Keegan leaned in close. "Why'd you do it? She loved you with all her heart. This is your chance to come clean and tell the truth."
"Help... me..." he sputtered, more blood dripping from his lips.
Keegan dug out her phone, called 911, and gave the operator Dirk's location. Not because she wanted to, but because her own moral code wouldn't allow her to stand by and watch him bleed out when she hadn't stabbed him. She owed Haley that much.
Crazy, maybe... but it made sense to her.
"Your name, ma'am?" the operator asked as Dirk gurgled again. "Ma'am?"
No way. Hand trembling, Keegan ended the call.
Dirk blinked slowly, the blood on his lips glinting as he attempted to speak. Did he want to confess? Probably not. The bastard wasn't wired that way.
He closed his eyes, and she switched her gaze to his broad chest.
Was he still breathing? She couldn't tell and didn't care, but at least by calling for help she'd given him a fighting chance. That's more than he'd done for Jenny.
The wail of a siren sliced through the too-quiet night.
Afraid she'd already hung around for too long, Keegan re-pocketed the phone and came to her feet. Time to go.
She glanced down at Dirk one last time, cursed his vile soul, and then dissolved back into the shadows. Her enemy was down without her having to dirty her knife. She'd thought Dirk's death, or rather, his imminent death, would satisfy her, and yet somehow she still felt empty. The immense hole torn in her heart when he'd murdered Jenny continued to gape wide. Keegan didn't know if she'd feel any better if she'd been the one to stab him, but now she'd never know.
"Where's my retribution?" she murmured to herself. "My revenge?"
A Keller County Sheriff's Department cruiser raced down the street. Desperate for anonymity, Keegan pressed her back to the cool brick wall.
A female deputy climbed from the car and strode toward Dirk's prone form, her hand resting on the butt of her pistol. She was confident and strong, her determined stride telling the world she wasn't afraid of anything, not even in this seedy location.
Keegan shivered. She wanted to be that strong and confident one day. Confident enough to be a good role model for Haley. She might not have custody of the child, but she often visited her niece, if only to give her mom and dad a break. They'd lost Jenny, too, and deserved some time to relax. Raising a grandchild, especially one as young as Haley, was hard work.
The deputy halted near the body and looked around, her narrow-eyed gaze landing on the area where Keegan hid before moving on to scan the parking lot.
Keegan held her breath until the cop glanced away. She didn't want to be associated with Dirk or the crime, even though she'd called for help. Better to remain in the shadows, out of sight, until the cavalry arrived. Then she could slink back home and decide what came next.
The deputy finally gave up on finding a witness, dropped to her haunches beside Dirk, and pressed two fingers to his thick neck. The look in her eyes told Keegan he was gone.
Good.
Dirk's death made her heart sing, and yet so many other cruel men still lived. Men who hurt women they supposedly loved and then worked the system so the DA never brought charges against them. Men who deserved to die the same way Dirk had.
Keegan clenched her hands. I'll be more than happy to oblige them.
Along with that thought, a strange new warmth spread through her. Finding abusive men who beat the system would be no problem, since she worked in the court system. All she needed was a little more strength and self-assurance. A little more luck.
Then maybe she'd finally find the vengeance she craved.
The deputy rose and spoke into her shoulder mic just as another KCSO cruiser pulled to a stop at the curb. Afraid the second officer might search the area more thoroughly, Keegan turned and slipped back through the inky darkness to the Kawasaki.
Tomorrow was a new day. A new day to find another target.
For Haley.
*****
"That you, boss?"
"Yeah, Abby." Keller County Sheriff Rick Blaylock cringed because he knew what was coming. Abby Bowman, his newest investigator, was working a case at a tourist venue down near the beach, and dispatch had just ordered her to another crime scene.
She hesitated. "I'm still working the shooting at Trader Tom's. Can't get away for a while. Is anyone else available to head to the other scene?"
"Unfortunately, no. Mitch is running down that witness for court in the morning. I can't spare him right now. Jonah's on vacation, Cash is at the hospital with Tessa, and Brody's on his damned honeymoon. You two are the only ones on the schedule tonight."
"Call C.J. I'm sure he's asleep, but he won't mind helping out."
"Are you kidding me? He's just worked eight days straight without a break." Rick shook his head. Abby had married C.J. Bowman a little over a year ago, right before she'd made detective. "If I wake him on your recommendation, he'll never let you hear the end of it."
"That's okay." She laughed. "I'm used to his crazy rants."
"I'm sure you are. Still, I don't enjoy abusing my men. I'll take this one."
"Sheriff--"
"Don't worry about it, Detective. I don't have a reason to hurry home."
"What about Boozer?"
"I dropped him off at Mom and Dad's this morning. They keep him every day while I'm at work anyway. Won't matter if he stays overnight."
"Well, if you're sure..."
"I've got it, Abby. Heading down to the Kitty Kat Klub right now."
"Yes, sir. Tell Tiffany we're still on for drinks on Saturday."
"Sure thing, Detective." With a wry chuckle, he ended the call.
He didn't usually work cases, but a surge of violence had accompanied the hot July weather and the department was extremely short-handed. Wouldn't hurt him to pick up the slack. Might even give him a little extra exposure if the press got wind of it. He was up for re-election, and with crime on the increase, the public would no doubt appreciate seeing their sheriff put boots on the ground and get down and dirty with the criminal element.
Hell, he hoped they'd appreciate it. His main opponent in this year's election, Henry Maillet, had already spent a bundle criticizing Rick for three back-to-back shootings by a couple of his SERT officers -- members of the Sheriff's Emergency Response Team -- even though the Board of Review had deemed them all to be good shoots, followed by Captain Frank Wainscott's subsequent resignation. Wainscott, a twenty-year employee of the KCSO and a five-year member of the Board of Review, had kicked up a ruckus during the investigation and then had a complete meltdown in Rick's office when he'd confronted Wainscott about it.
"The whole world's going to hell in a hand basket," Ric
k muttered to himself as he trekked outside to his department-issued SUV. "Why do I even want to stay in office?"
He didn't know the answer to that question, but he did know he wanted to continue to serve Keller County. Thus the trip across town to the department's latest crime scene.
The blue lights atop Deputy Tiffany Ransom's cruiser helped him zero in on the body, in a small gravel parking lot across the street from the Kitty Kat Klub. Rick would love nothing more than to shut down the city's strip clubs, but the courts had stalled the campaign he'd started when he'd first been elected and the county attorney had advised him to drop the issue.
He parked at the curb behind Tiffany's ride and got out. She met him on the sidewalk.
"Sheriff?" She frowned. "Didn't expect to see you down here tonight. Where's Mitch?"
"Out chasing a reluctant witness. If he doesn't find the guy, our case will fall apart in court tomorrow."
"Guess I shouldn't expect him to make it home in time for breakfast, then."
"I'd say no."
"Figures." She blew out a weary sigh. "I'll be glad when Jonah and Tripp get back. Have you heard from Cash? How's Tessa?"
"Doing okay. Just a broken arm. Could've been a helluva lot worse since that delivery truck T-boned her Mazda."
"Don't I know it. I've worked several liked that." Tiffany frowned.
Rick looked past her at the victim on the ground. He was a big guy. "What do we have?"
"A Caucasian male in his late-thirties with a jagged wound to the gut. He appears to have bled out quickly."
"Ah, Christ."
"According to his driver's license, his name's Dirk Woodward. Lives in the Briarcrest Apartments out near the mall."
"I know the place." Rick squinted at the strip club across the street. "Was he a patron?"
"My guess is yes, but I don't know for sure. Nobody's there right now. The place closed at one, and the employees apparently cleared out pretty quickly."
"Figures." He glanced at his watch. One forty-five. "Have you called CSU?"
"Yes, sir. They're on the way. Surprised you beat 'em here."
"I was still at the office doing paperwork." He walked over to the body and dropped to his haunches beside it. Blood had soaked Woodward's white knit shirt and pooled on the ground beneath him. The man's eyes were closed, and he had his right hand bunched into a fist. By the amount of blood, Rick figured Tiffany was right about him bleeding out fast.
A white CSU van roared up, and Rick came to his feet.
Tiffany met the techs beside the van and gave them a brief overview of the scene. "The sheriff's working this one, so you guys had better be on the ball."
"Howdy, Sheriff," Ben Hanson, one of the techs, called out. "Long time, no see."
"Evenin', Ben. Figured it was time for me to get out from behind my desk and do some actual police work."
"That wouldn't have anything to do with the election coming up, would it?"
"Maybe. We are pretty short-handed, though. Somebody has to pick up the slack." Rick bobbed his head toward the building as Ben walked up. "Make sure you search the area for the murder weapon. I'm guessing a knife, but don't really know for sure."
"Yes, sir."
"The strip club has security cameras on each corner of the building, and the one on the right looks like it's aimed this way." Tiffany jabbed her thumb toward the camera in question. "See? I'll find out who owns the club and run 'em down in the morning. I'll do my best to get my hands on that tape."
"I appreciate that, Deputy." Rick met her eyes. "You jonesing to make detective?"
"Not really, sir. I just want to do a good job." She ducked her head, spun on her heels, and marched off toward her cruiser.
"Wrong answer, Tiffany," he murmured to himself with a chuckle. "You do want to make detective, so you'll be Mitch's equal. Get a little more experience, and you just might."
"Excuse me, sir?" From his spot crouched beside the body, Ben lifted a brow. "Are you talking to me?"
"No. Sorry." Rick's face heated. He gritted his teeth and stepped closer to the tech. Focus, damn it. Hasn't been that long since you've been in the field. Pay attention.
Ben glanced back down at the body. "I agree that the murder weapon was probably a knife, but the ME's report should tell us for sure. Where's the coroner? He usually beats us here."
"I don't know, but you can bet I'll find out." Rick pulled out his cell and called dispatch.
The operator picked up right away. "Mr. Pendergast is on his way, Sheriff," she assured him. "He was still at work finalizing the flowers for the Wicker funeral tomorrow when I called."
"All right, May. Thanks." Rick ended the call and looked at Ben. "He's on his way. Hope the crime lab's worked through some of their backlog so they can get to this one pretty quick."
"I wouldn't hold your breath." Ben came to his feet with a wry smile on his face. "You know how things work up in Jackson."
"Unfortunately, I do." He opened his mouth to comment further, but snapped it shut when Ralph Pendergast roared up the street in the coroner's van. Behind him was a small white Chevy with the letters WHBZ and the TV station's colorful logo emblazoned on one of the side panels. Rick groaned. "I also know how the press works."
"Shit." Ben glanced down at the other tech, who was on his knees beside the body collecting samples of the blood pooled beneath it. "Make it fast, Tom. We've got an audience."
"Screw 'em. I'm working as fast as I can." Irritation creased Tom's forehead.
"Hey, Tiffany." Rick hustled over to the scowling deputy, who stood beside her cruiser's open trunk. "We need to get a perimeter up. Those people--"
"Will be all up in our business if we don't." She lost the frown as she completed his sentence and held up a roll of crime scene tape. "No worries, Sheriff. I'm on it."
"Good. Thanks." With appreciative bob of his head, he left so she could get to work and stalked over to the curb to head off the reporter.
He'd expected a newbie to exit the car, given the time of day, but Mindy Ravens, the tall, statuesque brunette who manned the anchor desk every night at six on WHBZ, climbed out instead. To top it off, Mindy wasn't alone. A cameraman got out of the passenger seat, opened the back door, and dragged out his equipment.
"Damn it," Rick muttered to himself. He longed to rage at the man, but plastered a smile on his face for the reporter's benefit and held out his hand. "Ms. Ravens, I'm surprised to see you out here tonight."
"Well, hello, Sheriff Blaylock." She shook his hand, disdain on her face, and eyed him with curiosity. "I'm surprised to see you, as well. Hoping for a moment in the spotlight as Keller County's premier crime fighter?"
"Not exactly." He stepped in front of her before she could slink any closer to the body. "This is a crime scene. I need you to move to the other side of the street."
"Bob," Mindy called out, her eyes never leaving Rick's as she got her cameraman's attention. "Hurry and get some footage of the deceased before the sheriff--"
"Please move back, ma'am." Tiffany elbowed her way past Mindy with a strand of crime scene tape, raising it until it almost brushed the reporter's nose before lowering it and looping it around a light pole about ten feet away. She continued on to a tree at the back of the small lot.
Obviously affronted, Mindy turned to the cameraman. "Hurry and get that footage. Now."
"Nope." Rick stepped in front of the man to block his access to the scene. "You can get all the footage you need from across the street."
"Actually, we can't. Right here would be--"
"Never mind, Bob." Mindy stepped up to the line of crime scene tape, whirled around, and raised her microphone to her mouth. "Get this instead."
"All right." Bob took a few steps back and aimed the camera at her smiling face.
"Ms. Ravens, I don't think--" Rick scowled, but she ignored him.
"I'm Mindy Ravens of WHBZ Live One News," she said facing the camera, "and we're live at a crime scene near the Kitty Kat Klub, an adult venu
e on the outskirts of Hunter's Bayou, where a murder allegedly took place less than one full hour ago."
"Ms. Ravens, I need you to do your report across the street." Rick clenched his teeth. "Either move right now, or I will arrest you."
"I'm here with Keller County Sheriff Rick Blaylock, who's running for re-election on an anti-crime platform." Mindy turned and pinned Rick with a coy look. "Sheriff, what can you tell us about tonight's alleged murder?"
"No comment," he snapped, anger blazing through his body. "This is an active crime scene, ma'am. I need you and your cameraman to move across the street so we can finish processing evidence."
"So you do have evidence in this case?"
"No. Comment," he bit out again, emphasizing each word for highest impact. His first instinct was to throttle the bitch and physically tow her across the damned street, but that would cause a scene and wind up on the news for sure. So he gave her his best blank expression and pointed at the other curb. "Please do as I ask, Ms. Ravens, so we can do our jobs."
"Do you have any suspects in this case yet, Sheriff? Or are you just grasping at straws?"
"All right, that's it." Rick whirled on her.
Chapter Two
Fighting the urge to tear Ms. Ravens limb from limb, Rick growled a curse he hoped she couldn't hear and summoned Tiffany to his side with a jerk of his hand.
Her hand still wrapped around the roll of tape, the deputy hurried over. "Yes, sir?"
"Deputy Ransom, please place Ms. Ravens under arrest." He pulled a pair of handcuffs off his gun belt. "I'll take care of her friend."
"No, wait! That won't be necessary," Mindy cried, backing down from her demand. Her throat jerked as she swallowed. She waved at the cameraman, stepped off the curb, and pointed across the street. "We'll be right over there if you decide to give me a statement."
"Not going to happen." He folded his arms and stood his ground until the reporter and her lackey ambled across the narrow street.
Rick released a heartfelt sigh and dropped his arms. Thank God he hadn't had to arrest them, because that would have set really set tongues wagging and gotten his opponent riled up.
Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance Page 2
