"Please." She sat back in the chair. "I just can't--"
"I know." He blew out a frustrated breath. "I'm shaken up, too. You'll need to give your statement about this incident before you can leave, though. I'll need to head down to the station. After something like this, I'll have to fill out reams of paperwork."
"At least nobody died."
"Well, there is that." He let go of her knee and gingerly fingered the darkening bruise beneath his eye. "How does it look?"
"I wouldn't go on camera right now, if I were you," she said with a firm twist of her lips.
He snorted. "Well, that's rich. I'm supposed to tape a campaign commercial in the morning."
"You might want to wait a few days -- and avoid the reporters hanging out in the parking lot, if they're still there." She gnawed at her lip, and then met his eyes. "I suppose you still want to question me about the incident on Saturday."
"What do you think? I used the word raincheck." He pushed himself up to a standing position. "Tomorrow, after court. Assuming you have to be there again."
"Yes, I do. Unfortunately." She rose on shaky legs. In addition, she had a self-defense class scheduled for five-thirty tomorrow afternoon. Guess she'd have to call her instructor and reschedule. Damn it.
He pulled a business card from his shirt pocket and handed it over before glancing at the chaos still reigning inside the coffee shop. "Let's meet at my office. We won't have to worry about an armed robbery or the press there. Text me on my cell as soon as you're through at the courthouse."
"Okay." She glanced down at the card. He'd listed his cell number beneath his office number. "Just keep in mind that court might not be over until late, and I'll have to scan my sketches into the computer before I can leave. So--"
"Not a problem as long as I hear from you." He edged closer.
She nodded. "I understand. I-I'll text you. I promise."
"To make sure, why don't you jot down your cell number for me? That way, I can call you if you're late." He pulled another card from his pocket, flipped it over, and handed it to her along with a pen. She wrote down her number and gave it back. He smiled. "Thanks. I'm still depending on you to text me. If you don't, I'll send a deputy to find you."
"Don't worry, Sheriff. You won't have to do that." She backed away from him and looked around. Before she gave her statement to one of the deputies, she needed to find her purse.
Blaylock stopped her. "That was quick thinking a while ago, by the way. You handled yourself well. Have you had any law enforcement training?"
"N-no," Keegan said in surprise. Unless you count all the self-defense and weapons training I did to get ready to go after Dirk. She forced a wary smile. "Guess I've just watched a few too many TV cop shows. You were outnumbered, and I reacted."
"Well, I appreciate it. You probably saved my life." He gripped her hand and pinned her to the floor with his intense gray gaze. "Thank you, Keegan Riley."
"You're welcome." A fresh surge of adrenaline made her pulse sing as he dropped her hand. At least, she hoped adrenaline was the cause and not the way he was looking at her.
"Ma'am?" One of the deputies strolled over to her, a metal clipboard clutched in both hands. "I need to get your statement. If you'll please have a seat on the couch--"
"Let me grab my purse first."
"Okay." He bobbed his head.
Her face burning, Keegan glanced at the sheriff one last time, then hurried back to the table she had vacated during the robbery. Her bag still sat on the window ledge where she had left it. She snatched it up and checked her wallet to make sure no one had rifled through it during all the excitement. Her cash was still there, and nothing else appeared to be out of place.
By the time she lowered herself onto the sofa, her pulse rate had returned to normal. Or rather, almost normal. Nothing about this afternoon had been normal at all.
The deputy walked up and sat beside her.
She didn't want to have to answer his questions, but at least this time she didn't have to lie. All she had to do was tell the truth about how Sheriff Blaylock had taken on two armed men when he wasn't even carrying a gun himself. How he'd risked his life to take down those men.
Yet her own words scared her half to death.
If the sheriff would take on two armed men with no gun in his hand, what would he do if he learned the real reason she'd been at the club that night? I've never been a great liar, and I have less than twenty-four hours to work on my story.
Keegan's stomach roiled as she finished giving her statement to the young deputy.
*****
Rick didn't take his eyes off Keegan the entire time she spent giving her statement. Her earnest look trapped him in a haze of confusion. She hadn't appeared that sincere earlier this afternoon when he'd spoken with her. Of course, he hadn't had time to ask her but one question here at the coffee shop before the armed robbery, and that made him curious.
Had she been about to lie to him? Or had he intimidated her so much she'd gotten nervous? The wet behind the ears kid interviewing her now couldn't be a day over twenty-five, if he was that old. She didn't appear to be threatened by him in the least.
"Didn't mean to scare her half to death," he murmured as he scrambled out of the way of the exiting EMTs. Damn it. Keegan was a witness, not a murderer. He had to remember that.
"Sheriff?" Bryce Tompkins, one of Keller County's four robbery detectives, entered the coffee shop and made a beeline for him. The few customers who were left, including Keegan, were all busy giving their statements, and not one of them paid him any attention.
"What went on in here, sir?" Tompkins asked with a frown. "Whatever it was, the press must know you're involved, 'cause Mindy Ravens is lurking outside."
"Well, aren't you just a ray of freaking sunshine." Rick put out his hand, and the burly detective gave it a shake. "I had to deal with that split-tongued woman the other night at a murder scene, and today she's followed me around like she's expecting me to do something exciting. I don't relish talking to her again."
"Then I suggest you sneak out the back door."
"Good idea." He scowled toward the plate glass window. "Too bad I parked out front."
"I'll be happy to drive your car around back when you're ready to leave."
"Now you're talkin'." Rick grinned. "Thanks, Detective. Knew I kept you around for a reason."
"Hey, I don't have a problem kissing up to the boss." He smirked. Then he eyed the barista, who sat at one of the tables with her hand over her eyes. "What happened to her?"
"Pistol-whipped. The EMTs didn't cart her off to the hospital, so I guess she's okay. Just some butterfly bandages. The guy whacked her pretty good, though, and she went down like a sack of potatoes. She's probably got a concussion."
"Ouch. Bet that hurt." Tompkins eyed the spider-webbed mirror behind the counter. "Anybody shot?"
"No. Just the mirror. The second guy's gun went off when his partner and I slammed into him." He sighed. "Long story. Two gunman, one terrified barista, and a shop full of customers."
"Apparently you saved the day."
"Well, I had to do something." Rick dragged a hand down his face. "I'm the sheriff."
"And you're running for re-election." The detective grinned. "This'll be all over the papers and the Internet by dawn. Should send your numbers through the roof."
"Maybe so, but I don't care. I'm just glad we caught the guys and nobody got hurt."
"Ditto." He nodded and pulled out a pad and pen. "Now, lead me through what happened step by step. We need your story, too... as you well know."
Rick led him over to a table where he could still keep an eye on Keegan. His heart rose into his throat when he took in her weary, bedraggled appearance and realized he was partly to blame. He'd shoved her up against her car and cuffed her in the rain less than two hours ago. Yet even with air-dried, unkempt hair and tired eyes, she radiated a quiet inner strength. He wished he hadn't been so hard on her.
"Just a witn
ess," he murmured to himself.
Tompkins settled into his seat and lifted a brow. "What was that, Sheriff?"
"What? Oh, nothing." He jerked his attention back to his own statement about the armed robbery. "All the trouble started after I bought a cup of coffee."
The detective lifted a brow, and for the next five minutes sat quietly taking notes as Rick related his account of what had happened, ending with Keegan snatching up the pistol and him cuffing the only conscious gunman. He let Tompkins know Keegan was still here.
"That one, huh?" Tompkins bobbed his head toward her. "Wow. She's a looker, even though I'd say she spent some time out in the rain this afternoon. Who is she?"
"A witness in a murder case. Dirk Woodward."
"The guy stabbed at the Kitty Kat Klub on Saturday?"
"Yep."
"Wow." He furrowed his brow. "She was here with you?"
"That's right." Rick leaned closer and lowered his voice. "I needed to ask her a few more questions, and she begged me not to make her go down to the station. This is what I get for going against protocol and agreeing to her suggestion. Damn it, I never do stuff like this."
"I've done it a time or two myself, hoping to put the person I was interviewing at ease. It usually works pretty well. Hope the press doesn't get wind of your little field trip, though. They'll have you screwing a witness in a homicide investigation before you can even say your name."
"No kidding." He caught the other man's eye. "Nothing like that's going on, Detective. I swear. The meeting was on the up and up."
"Take it easy, boss." Tompkins put up both hands. "I don't doubt that for a minute."
"Just so you know," Rick said, his cheeks burning at the implication. "Please don't tell anyone else about it either, okay? Nobody knows. Except you, me, and Ms. Riley, of course."
"Certainly not, sir. I won't say a word."
"Thank you." Rick sat back and glanced over at Keegan. Or rather, at the spot where she'd sat on the couch. The deputy who'd taken her statement now stood alone beside the monstrous piece of furniture. He turned back to Tompkins. "Give me a second, will you?"
"Sure, boss." The detective rose and picked up his pad and pen. "We're done as far as I'm concerned. I have everything I need from you."
"Thanks, Tompkins. Stop by my office if you have any more questions."
"Will do." He quirked his mouth and angled across the room toward the barista, who now sat with her head cradled in both shaking hands.
Rick walked over to the deputy standing by the sofa. "Where'd Ms. Riley go?"
"Who?" The kid raised his head.
He glared at the young man. "Keegan Riley. She just gave you her statement."
"Oh, yeah." Apparently growing antsy, the deputy shifted. "She just left."
"I see. Well, that's fine as long as you were done." He clapped his hand on the young man's shoulder and peered down at the silver name bar on his chest. "Thanks, Jones."
"Anytime, Sheriff." The kid grinned. "A lot of excitement for one day, right?"
"Too much." He edged away. "Keep up the good work, son."
Eager to get the hell out of there, he told Tompkins and the other deputies on scene that he needed to go. Tompkins promised to wait around and talk to the owner, who was on his way. Then without another word, the robbery detective headed outside to get Rick's car and drive it around back so he could avoid Mindy Ravens. Maybe this time, she wouldn't follow him.
The barista had slapped a sign on the door saying the shop was closed as soon as the EMTs deemed she was okay, and that plus a deputy stationed outside had kept the reporter and her crew from venturing inside after all the excitement died down.
Rick checked on the barista again before he exited the store. She claimed her head ached like a bitch, but appeared to be otherwise okay.
Thankful for that, he considered calling Keegan to check on her, but decided against it. She'd been pretty shaken up and probably needed time to decompress. Not only from the robbery, but also from the way he'd blindsided her outside the Kitty Kat Klub. She'd promised to come in to talk with him again tomorrow after court, and that would have to do.
"Damn it," he murmured when he realized he was disappointed he wouldn't get to see her until then. Why that was true, he didn't want to know.
Yet even as he pulled out of the narrow alley behind the Jumping Bean, he couldn't get her out of his mind.
*****
Keegan leapt to her feet the second the deputy told her she was free to go. The sheriff was busy talking to an investigator, so she took that as her cue to get out of there before she had to face him again. He'd treated her well enough once he'd taken off those stupid cuffs, yet she didn't relish him raking her over the coals again right now. She had to meet with him tomorrow anyway. No point in adding to her torture. She picked up her purse and walked out of the coffee shop without looking back at him. Just the thought of him made her hair stand on end.
She hadn't taken two steps out the door before Mindy Ravens, the evening anchor on WHBZ, waylaid her. "What happened inside the coffee shop this evening, ma'am? A robbery? A shooting? You were inside, so I'm sure you can tell us what happened."
"I-I'm sorry, but I can't talk right now." Keegan whirled and scurried toward her car.
Talking to the press was the absolute last thing she needed to do. If the reporter somehow identified her, she might unearth the connection between Keegan and Jenny, and the sheriff would have a field day. Keegan needed to get away fast.
"Ma'am, please." The nosy heifer followed her to her car. "Just give us a statement. What went on inside the Jumping Bean today?"
Keegan ignored her and pulled out her keys.
"I only need a few words." Mindy fired Keegan a practiced smile and motioned for her cameraman to step closer. The reporter's eyes never left Keegan's face. "You were inside the Jumping Bean when the armed robbery took place. What can you tell us about the incident?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, come on, ma'am. Another customer who left the shop told me Sheriff Rick Blaylock played the hero and took down both alleged gunmen all by himself. Did you witness this incredible feat?" She shoved her microphone in Keegan's face.
Alleged, my hind leg. Keegan resisted the urge to tell the woman to get lost and instead focused on the image of the strapping sheriff tackling the robber that danced across the screen inside her head. "Yes, I did. He was... very brave."
"The customer also told me a woman matching your description snatched up a weapon one of the robbers dropped and helped the sheriff get the suspects under control." Mindy lifted one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "Was that you, ma'am?"
"I'd rather not... no comment." Keegan's cheeks flamed.
Mindy moved the microphone so close it bumped Keegan's nose. "You picked up that gun and held the robber at bay, didn't you, ma'am? What's your name?"
"No. Comment," Keegan repeated, her nerves at the breaking point. She pressed the key fob and shouldered the reporter out of the way so she could open her car door.
The man with Ravens sidled around to the front of the vehicle and trained his camera on her. Mindy edged inside the arc of the door and got in Keegan's face again. "You know, if you did help Sheriff Blaylock subdue the alleged armed robbers, you're to be commended. Why won't you talk to me? Do you have something to hide?"
"You know, Ms. Ravens... no. Never mind. I've said all I'm going to say to you." Firing the woman another heated glare, Keegan slid into the car and grabbed the door handle. "Now, please move so I can close my door."
"Just one more question, please. I heard that--"
"No more questions!" Keegan yelled, anger winning out over her desire to keep her temper under control. She bumped the reporter's backside with the inside of the door. "Now, please get out of my way. I'm not going to ask you again."
"Fine. Be sure to watch our ten o'clock news on WHBZ. I'm filling in for Megan Murphy." She stepped back, and Keegan slammed the door.
Adrenaline fired throug
h her like lightning as she started the car and skidded from the parking space. If she could floor the gas and run over that meddlesome reporter, she'd feel a whole lot better. She bit back the urge for retaliation and hurtled from the lot. Better to just go home, soak in a hot bath, and down a couple of glasses of wine instead of getting arrested.
So true. I'm in enough damned trouble already.
After the day she had endured, getting home and unwinding exactly the way she had imagined was heaven. She actually fell asleep in the tub as the water cooled and only woke up when her chin dipped beneath the surface and she spilled her wine. Smirking at her lack of grace, she climbed out of the chilly water and toweled herself dry.
Eager to get to bed, Keegan quickly donned her favorite soft cotton nightshirt, brushed her teeth, and applied moisturizer to her face. Brushing out her tangled hair hurt, but she suffered through it and soon climbed between the sheets. Her heart skipped a beat as she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Mindy Ravens had urged her to watch the WHBZ news at ten. She longed to see if they'd used any of the footage of her trying to fend off that witch, yet she was terrified to find out if they had. She hated being in the spotlight.
Twenty minutes later, she climbed into bed and settled herself against the headboard so she'd have a better view of the TV. Her stomach churned as footage about the armed robbery ran in the number one spot thanks to Sheriff Blaylock's heroics. Then all at once, Keegan's face filled the screen and the anchor prattled on about how Keegan had helped the sheriff thwart the alleged armed robbers.
"You've got to be kidding me," she cried with a moan. "I look like something the cat dragged in. I can't believe she actually--"
"WHBZ news sources have identified Sheriff Blaylock's savior as Keller County court artist Keegan Riley, whose sister was stabbed to death last year in a case of domestic violence."
"Oh, my God." Keegan sat up and gaped at the screen.
With a devious smirk, Ravens continued, "Keegan Riley accused her sister's fiancé, Dirk Woodward, of murdering Jennifer, but investigators for the sheriff's department were unable to find enough evidence linking him to the crime, so he was never brought to trial."
Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance Page 8
