Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance

by Melanie Atkins

  "Be seated," he said as he lowered himself into his chair behind the bench.

  With a worried sigh, Keegan reclaimed her place and pulled out her sketchpad and a single black pencil. Her hand flew over the paper as she quickly drew a rough outline of Rouse's hangdog expression. She'd color it in later. Then she sketched the prosecution and the defense, taking care to note Wicker's complete lack of emotion. He might as well have been a plastic doll folded into the chair behind the defense table.

  Keegan's nerves thrummed as Rouse explained what was about to happen.

  "Please stay seated and keep your comments to yourself, unless you want to spend tonight behind bars on a contempt charge," he continued, his bitter growl letting everyone know he meant business. He faced the jury. "Madam Foreman, have you reached a verdict?"

  "Yes, Your Honor." A somber woman with short salt and pepper hair came to her feet. "We have."

  "Thank you." Rouse turned to pin Wicker with a distasteful gaze as the bailiff ordered the defendant to his feet.

  Wicker rose, his face still devoid of emotion, and stared at the judge.

  Rouse turned back to the jury foreman. "What say you?"

  "On the single count of capital murder," the woman said in a grave tone, "we, the jury, find the defendant, Ronald Wicker, not guilty."

  A flurry of angry gasps rode the air. Keegan's stomach flip-flopped.

  "No!" a man on the next row exclaimed.

  Rouse banged his gavel and yelled, "Quiet!"

  A look of elation on his face, Wicker grinned from ear to ear and clapped his hands. Quincy slapped the smug bastard on the back and congratulated him, while Abington and his stunned co-counsel whispered to each other, then turned and glared at both Wicker and Quincy.

  Outraged whispers filled the courtroom, rising in volume until the judge banged his gavel a second time and shouted for order. The whispers died down, but didn't cease.

  "Let go!" A scuffle broke out on the row behind the defense table, and a man with a red face broke free of two men holding him down and leapt over the rail.

  "Don't, Dave!" another man shouted. "Stop him!"

  "You killed her in cold blood, you bastard!" Dave pulled out a gun and shot Wicker. The resounding blast echoed through the courtroom.

  Half the crowd screamed, and half hit the floor. Before Dave could fire again, the bailiff tackled him and wrestled the gun away.

  "No!" Dave cried, tears streaming down his face as he struggled against the bulky bailiff and the two detectives and one uniformed sheriff's deputy who jumped over the rail and joined him. "He killed my sister. He killed her, and you people just let him go. Goddamn it, get off me!"

  Keegan sat rooted to the bench, gaping in disbelief at Wicker lying on the floor behind the defense table bleeding out. Again, someone had done her dirty work for her.

  "Call nine-one-one!" Quincy yelled, pulling off his coat and pressing it to Wicker's side.

  Abington crouched beside him. "Already done."

  With shaking hands, Keegan dug her phone out of her purse and pressed Sheriff Blaylock's number. He needed to know what had happened, and this time she had no need to hide her identity. She was only one of a courtroom full of witnesses.

  The phone rang, but Rick didn't pick up.

  Her call went straight to voicemail.

  *****

  "What are you doing on my front porch?" Rick asked Mindy Ravens as he climbed the steps. He shifted his keys into the hand sticking out of his sling, pulled out his phone, and put it on silent so no one would interrupt him. Then he narrowed his eyes and glanced around. No vehicle. "How'd you get here, anyway?"

  "My cameraman is parked around the corner. Figured if you spotted the car with the WHBZ logo in your driveway, you wouldn't stop."

  "You're damned right." He turned back to her. "I wouldn't have."

  "Should we go inside to have this conversation?" She lifted a brow.

  He slid his phone back into his pocket and changed hands with the keys. "We're not going to have a conversation. I've said all I'm going to say to you about our open cases, including the armed robbery at the coffee shop and Dirk Woodward's murder. So you might as well go."

  "Sheriff, I--"

  "No comment." He found the correct key and stepped toward the door.

  She came to her feet. "Fine. I'll go if you want me to, but first you need to know I have information about your witness in the Woodward case you might find interesting."

  "What are you talking about?" His chest tightened, and against his better judgment, he swung around to look at her.

  A big smile stretched her painted lips. "Thought that might get your attention. I'm talking about Keegan Riley, of course. I suppose you wondered how she reacted so quickly during that armed robbery. I know I did."

  "Yeah, so?" Rick scowled. "I asked her if she'd ever trained as a cop, and she said no."

  "Ms. Riley told you the truth. She's never had any official law enforcement training." Mindy sidled closer, and he couldn't help but notice her too-sweet, flowery scent. "She has, however, taken four self-defense classes, six different martial arts classes, including karate -- she's now a brown belt -- and three firearms training courses within the past six months. That would explain how she knew what to do with the gun."

  "Seriously?" He gaped at her. A sick feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. "All of those classes in six months? Why in hell would she train so intensely?"

  "You don't know her backstory?" A gloating look in her eye, Mindy tilted her head. "Keegan found her sister Jenny dead in her kitchen six months ago, almost to the day. She swore Dirk Woodward did the deed, but you people never charged him."

  "She took those classes because she wanted revenge?"

  "That would be my guess." The reporter shrugged. "Think about it... and about the implications. You and Ms. Riley have been pretty chummy lately, you know. She even visited you in the hospital yesterday and got caught up in that nasty little kidnapping incident."

  "She came to see me because I asked her to stop by."

  "Oh, really, Sheriff?" Mindy lifted a brow. "Tell me more."

  "Not because I wanted to see her." He shook his head. "Well, I did want to see her, but only because I never finished questioning her the day before. I was feeling well enough, and I wanted to know why she was at the Kitty Kat Klub the night of Woodward's murder."

  "Well, now you know."

  "Yes, I do." He squeezed the keys so hard his hand hurt. "She told me she followed her boyfriend to the club that night."

  "Her boyfriend? Please." The reporter scoffed. "The woman doesn't have time for any social activities, much less a relationship. Her daily schedule goes like this: She goes to work, comes home, and then leaves again to either attend one of her many classes or visit her niece. Her parents are raising Jenny's little girl, Haley, and Keegan obviously feels a connection with the child. Probably because she comforted Haley the day Jenny died."

  Son of a bitch. Rick reeled from Mindy's statement but did his best not to react. That's what she wanted, and he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Instead, he concentrated on the throbbing in his shoulder. He needed a pain pill in the worst way.

  "Oh, dear. Did I surprise you, Sheriff?" The reporter's lips curved in a sly, knowing smile. "With all that's happened to you over the last couple of days, I doubt you've had much time to dig into Ms. Riley's background. Thought I might drop by and shake things up a bit."

  "Well, I appreciate the info," he gritted out, avoiding her gaze. "Sorry, but I need to go inside. It's time for my medication."

  "Sorry to be such a bother at a time like this. Of course you need to go." She backed away, a condescending look on her face. "I'll go so you can get some rest. I need to pay Ms. Riley a visit, anyway."

  "No." He bristled. "Leave her alone, Ms. Ravens. I mean it. She's part of our investigation. And besides, haven't you meddled enough for one day?"

  "Sorry to disappoint you, Sheriff," she said with a sneer, "but
I'm just getting started."

  He opened his mouth to retort, but reminded himself she was a reporter who could sink his campaign and ground his teeth instead. He couldn't wait until the damned election was over so he'd be rid of her poking around into his business.

  To his relief, she spun on her heel without another word, marched off down the steps, and turned the corner without another word. He stumbled a bit as he let himself into the house, cursing her all the while, and made a beeline to the kitchen so he could take his meds.

  Once he was done, he washed up as best he could one-handed and then went into his bedroom. Changing clothes was another challenge he hadn't anticipated. Pain arced through his shoulder once he took off his sling, and he decided to wait for the meds to kick in before changing out of the tee shirt Jonah had brought him to wear home. He went ahead and awkwardly shucked his pants, and his cell phone tumbled out of his pocket onto the floor.

  He scooped it up with a wince and checked the display.

  One missed call from Keegan.

  "Now what do I do?" he murmured, unsure if he should call her back. She might not have stabbed Woodward the other night, but according to the meddling reporter, attacking the man had been Keegan's plan until someone else had conveniently killed him for her.

  Rick lowered himself wearily onto the edge of the bed, dropped the phone onto the comforter beside him, and raked a hand through his hair. He needed a shower. Luckily, he had plenty of gauze pads, paper tape, and antibiotic ointment from an earlier injury, so he hadn't needed to stop on the way home to buy anything to dress his wound. The meds were starting to kick in, so he decided to go ahead and strip off his shirt and shower before calling Keegan back.

  If he decided to pick up the phone. Might be better to just let her stew.

  Chapter Eight

  "Hot damn." Henry Maillet banged his fist against his desk and grinned at Mindy like a crazed mule. "You swear to me every word of that is true?"

  "Yes, sir," Mindy said, relaying the rest of the information she'd gathered about Keegan Riley courtesy of the network of contacts she'd developed since going to work for WHBZ. The girl had a helluva lot to hide, but she hadn't done a very good job of it. "I've verified all of it."

  "Excellent. Please tell me Ms. Riley will be the top story on tonight's news."

  "No, but I do plan to use the info later," she told him. You greedy, disgusting pig. Being around him made her skin itch, and not in a good way. She'd been in his office for all of five minutes, and already she wanted to bathe. "I need to include it at a more appropriate time."

  "Why is today not a good day to let the folks in Keller County know what kind of woman their current sheriff is spending time with?"

  "Because she's a witness in a murder investigation, not his girlfriend."

  "How do you know? They seem awfully damned chummy to me."

  "I know, because that's what Sheriff Blaylock told me."

  "When did you go see him?" He cocked his head and sent her a disapproving look.

  She glared right back. "Half an hour ago. I wanted him to know the truth about Keegan."

  "You shouldn't have told him," Maillet snapped. "Now he can distance himself from her. Damn you, Mindy. What'd I tell you? I want that man to go down."

  "I remember every word you said, but I can't worry about your plans right now." Defying him scared Mindy, but she lifted her chin and plowed on. "My boss will have my ass if I go against the sheriff's wishes and say anything else about the case. I've already gotten into enough trouble by announcing the link between her and Woodward. I can't afford to lose my job."

  "I want that news leaked before the election, or you won't have to worry about doing anything that might cost you your job. I'll take care of that for you."

  "Don't worry, Mr. Maillet. We have plenty of time." She bit back an oath and did the math in her head. "Four months, to be exact. If you dirty up Keegan now, she'll have plenty of time to come clean, and the public will forget about her by the time election day rolls around."

  "Well, I certainly don't want that to happen," he snapped, "but I do want the info to taint Blaylock. I need all the help I can get. Dig deeper. Find something we can use now."

  "I'll do my best." She straightened her shoulders.

  He narrowed his eyes. "See that you do, honey, or you'll regret it."

  "Don't call me honey."

  "I'll call you any fucking thing I choose," he said, raking her form with his hungry gaze. He patted his lap and leered at her. "Come here, sweetheart."

  "No. And I'm not your sweetheart." Appalled by his disgusting request, she backed away from the desk. She used to strip, yes, but never once had she prostituted herself, and she wasn't about to start now, especially with him. Revulsion choked her. "I'm leaving, and if you try to stop me, I'll--"

  "What are you gonna do?" He jumped up, raced around the desk, and lunged for her. "Huh? You gonna hurt me? Threaten me? Fight me?"

  "Get away from me." She backpedaled, but not quickly enough. For a big man, he moved pretty damned fast. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back. She squealed in pain.

  He shoved her against the wall and held her there with his big, sweaty body. He smelled like unwashed flesh and woodsy cologne. His arousal dug into her hip. He palmed her breast with his free hand and gave it a rough squeeze before thumbing her nipple. Thank God he didn't reach inside her blouse. "I'll do anything I want with you. Got that, bitch? You're mine."

  "No, I'm not. Let me go." She held herself rigid. "I'm not some street slut; I'm a reporter. Get your hands off me, or I swear to God I'll go to the cops. Today."

  "Do that, and I'll shout your secret from the rooftops."

  "I-I won't, unless you push me." She swallowed, hard. "I promise."

  "All right." He squeezed her breast one more time, then released her and stepped back. He only put about an inch of space between them, and his sour breath still bathed her cheek. "I won't touch you, but if you don't come through for me... all bets are off. Do you understand?"

  "Got it," she snapped, her stomach roiling from his foul touch. She'd never let him put his hands on her again if she could help it. Next time, she'd come prepared.

  He stepped back another foot or so and straightened his jacket. "Go on. Get the hell out of my office before I change my mind. Just remember that I want you -- and you can bet I'll have you, come hell or high water, if you don't cooperate with me."

  "Your threats don't scare me."

  "Well, they should." He sneered. "This isn't the first time I've used sex as leverage, you know. So far, it's worked every damned time. I always get what I want."

  "Well, that tactic won't work with me. I find you far too disgusting."

  "Better shut your pie hole while you're ahead, Ms. Ravens." He edged toward her once again. "I'm not above forcing you against your will if I have to."

  "You're really threatening to make me have sex with you? And you want to be sheriff? No way will I ever vote for you." She turned toward the door. "Good day, Mr. Maillet."

  Goose bumps pebbled Mindy's skin as she slipped from his office and raced out to her car. She couldn't get away from him fast enough.

  *****

  I can't believe this. Not again.

  Keegan pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from ranting at Dave, whoever he was, as the paramedics wheeled Ronald Wicker out of the courtroom at a dead run. He wasn't dead yet, but he had certainly lost a lot of blood. Most of it had pooled under the defense table.

  "I-I couldn't just let him leave. He... he murdered her." Dave's sobs echoed through the courtroom. "Rebecca was my sister, and she... she deserved so much better. She deserved for that son of a bitch to die in prison."

  "Sorry, sir, but you'll have to come with us. Let's go." The deputy who'd helped the bailiff and the two detectives subdue and cuff the man now gripped his arm and led him toward the exit that led to the jail. He didn't fight them. He merely lowered his head and let them drag him away.

&nb
sp; No! Keegan wanted to shout. I was supposed to take out Wicker. Not you.

  How would she ever rid herself of her thirst for revenge if she never got to actually confront a target? Wicker had killed his wife and been acquitted, just like Dirk had murdered Jenny and weaseled out of the charges against him. Now Wicker had been attacked, too -- and in the courtroom, no less. She snatched up her satchel and followed the few remaining people in the courtroom to the door. She'd packed her duffel bag last night with all of her gear, and tonight she'd planned to do reconnaissance at his place.

  No need to do that now. Unless...

  She hurried down the hall to her office, slipped inside, and locked the door. Her nerve endings sang as she scanned her sketches into the computer and sent them off. Once she was done, she opened her bottom drawer and took out the file folder she'd stashed there before learning the particulars about the Wicker case.

  The folder contained the names of other men she'd culled from court files over the past few months. Men who had abused their significant others and gotten away with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. One had done a good number of hours of community service for slapping his wife around, but most of them had gotten off scot-free because the women had been afraid to testify. Sooner or later, one or more of those men would kill... and now Keegan had to decide which was most likely to do so.

  How else would she be able to eliminate the threat?

  She drew in a deep breath and ran her finger down the list with the worst of the bunch at the top: Steven Parker, an auto mechanic who lived out in the county near the Kiln. Parker was a brutal jackass who had put his wife in the hospital three times. The last time, she'd spent almost a week in ICU with a head injury severe enough that one more good blow just might kill her.

  Keegan's hands shook as she typed Parker's name into the computer. She often helped the court clerk, so she had access to the main database.

  Only took her a few seconds to dig up Parker.

  "Damn it," she whispered a moment later. He'd been picked up on an unrelated assault charge two weeks ago, and it must have stuck because he was now in the Keller County Jail.