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Blazing Summer (Darling Investigations Book 2)

Page 32

by Denise Grover Swank


  One of Connor’s camerapeople told me to sit in a client chair in front of the window while the others set up light filters. While the reality segments were all about capturing things in real life—even if it took six takes—the couch interviews gave the illusion of comfort and intimacy while the interviewee spilled secrets. Apparently, people looked more trustworthy when bathed in filtered light.

  Within ten minutes, we were ready to go. Someone used the clapboard to start the scene. Almost immediately afterward, Connor walked around the camera and sat in the chair beside me. “I think this will go better if I’m sitting with her.”

  My eyebrows shot up, but I decided to save my protest for later.

  Connor leaned back in his seat. “Summer, I just want to ask you a few warm-up questions before we get to the meat of the story.”

  I glanced over at Lauren. “Isn’t a producer supposed to ask me questions? A.k.a. you?”

  She gave me a sarcastically sweet smile. “I thought you might feel more comfortable with Connor. Especially since you found me asking questions so onerous last time.”

  We spent the next hour of take after take of Connor trying to sensationalize every bit of Dixie’s arrest. Lauren continued to be frustrated when I didn’t give her what she was looking for—anger, outrage, tears—but I refused to cave, even when she threatened to call Schapiro and get me fired.

  I sat back in my chair and folded my hands on top of my crossed leg. “I’m not going to condemn my cousin, so if that’s what you’re lookin’ for, you’re wastin’ all of our time.”

  “We need a sound bite, Summer. Something to give the morning news shows.”

  “Well, why in the hell didn’t you say so?” I asked. “I’d be happy to give you a sound bite.”

  She gave me a skeptical look.

  I turned to the camera, and an idea came to me. “My dear cousin Dixie, who is also my assistant on Darling Investigations, was arraigned this morning on charges of possession of a controlled substance. There is a lot more to this story than the public knows, but I’d like to remind people that sometimes investigative work involves going undercover. I’d also like to add that my cousin takes her work very seriously.” I paused to let that sink in. “I assure you that when everything is resolved, Dixie will be cleared, and the people who were eager to condemn her will be eating crow.” I refrained from saying, And I will be gloating over every bite. Instead, I stood. “And cut.”

  “I want another take,” Lauren said, trying to regain the upper hand.

  “Don’t overthink it, Lauren.” I leaned to the side. “Bill. You and the guys ready to go get some lunch?”

  “Yeah,” Tony said emerging from the back. “We’re starving.”

  We walked out in silence, but instead of heading toward Maybelline’s—the gossip hub of the county—I led the way to the hole-in-the-wall pizza joint a few doors down. After we ordered our food at the counter, we found a table in the back. I looked around to make sure Lauren’s people hadn’t followed us. “Did you get ahold of Bruce?” I asked in an undertone.

  “I did,” Bill said, “but he was reluctant.”

  “I don’t get it. He seemed eager a couple of days ago. Did he finally agree?”

  Bill gave me a hopeful look. “He didn’t say no.”

  Tony grunted. “He said he wanted to think about it.”

  Had someone told him not to talk? I pushed out a sigh. “Dammit. Now we have nothing.”

  “No,” Tony said. “Springfield is our best suspect. We need to find out who his friends are and who he hangs out with.”

  “Aren’t those one and the same?” I asked.

  “Look who you just spent the last hour with,” Tony said.

  “Touché.”

  “And how are we going to find that out?” Chuck said. “Go ask his alligator?”

  My mouth twisted to the side. “We could go look through his house.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Bill asked. “What if he came home and found you? If he’s the one who killed April Jean and set up Dixie, you know he won’t bat an eye at killing you.”

  Chuck swallowed, and his voice came out in a squeak. “And anyone with you.”

  “I can ask Teddy who his friends are.”

  “He’s not going to tell you,” Bill said. “You need to find someone else who knows something.”

  “I’ll text Amber.” But five minutes later, Amber proved to be no help. I read her text and broke the news to the guys. “She says that she knows the sheriff has been called out to the Jackhammer a few times when Rick was involved in disturbances, but that’s it.”

  “What about going back to the crazy chicken lady?” Chuck said. “She might be able to help.”

  We all looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

  “We don’t need to ask anyone else for information,” I said. “We just got our answer.”

  “Huh?” Tony asked.

  “I told you!” Chuck said, pointing his finger at the guys.

  “Not the chicken lady,” I said. “The Jackhammer. Amber just said he’s gotten into trouble out there multiple times. And Teddy was lookin’ for him there last night. He must frequent it. And if he’s lying low and not showing up at his usual hangouts, we can still ask around about him. And when we talk to them . . . maybe we could offer a reward for any information that helps free Dixie. They’ll be more willing to talk.”

  The guys looked at one another for a few seconds before Tony said, “It’s actually a good idea.”

  “Then it’s set. We’ll start with collecting names at the Jackhammer, then we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

  “Summer Butler,” Deputy Dixon said behind me.

  I spun around in my seat to face him, hoping my fear over seeing him didn’t show. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Are you here to harass me, Deputy?”

  “I’m here to give you a personal escort to the sheriff’s department.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Bill stood and faced him. “Is she under arrest?”

  The deputy lifted an eyebrow in an amused sneer. “Should she be?”

  “What’s this about?” I asked, my heart pounding against my chest as I got to my feet.

  He reached for my arm. “Just come with me and you’ll find out.”

  I backed into the table, just out of reach.

  “Is she under arrest?” Bill asked with more force.

  Deputy Dixon’s eyes narrowed as he focused on Bill. “You wanting to join us?”

  “She has a right to know if she’s under arrest.”

  The deputy cocked his head and grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, now, she didn’t ask me, did she?”

  I squared my shoulders. “Am I under arrest?”

  He didn’t answer, just grinned like the fool he was.

  Another deputy walked through the door, scanning the small space until his gaze landed on us. He must have picked up on the tension, because he immediately said, “Is there a problem, Dixon?”

  “This one’s giving me sass,” he said, motioning to me with his shoulder.

  I wanted to rip this guy to shreds, but I remembered Luke’s warning from the day before. Be polite. Cooperate. “Actually, sir, Deputy Dixon is rudely insistent that I go with him, yet he refuses to say if I’m under arrest. Because if I am under arrest, I need to contact my attorney and ask her to meet me at the sheriff’s department.”

  The other deputy shot Deputy Dixon a glare before turning back to me. “You’re not under arrest. We just need a statement about what you saw before you reported the fire. We’re here to ask you to come in today to assist with our investigation.”

  While part of me was glad they were interested in my statement, I couldn’t help wondering if this was some kind of trap. What if they thought I’d made up my story to help Dixie get away with it? “I think maybe I’ll call my attorney anyway. Do you have a card so she can make the appointment?”

  He frowned and dug a car
d out of his shirt pocket. “I assure you that this is routine procedure, Ms. Butler.”

  I gave him a tight smile. “And while I would love to believe you, Deputy, your fellow officer has made that rather difficult.”

  Now the new deputy looked downright pissed at Deputy Dixon, and I had to admit I felt pretty satisfied.

  I took the card and read the name. “Thank you, Deputy Vincent. I’ll call my attorney when we finish here. You both have a good afternoon.”

  Deputy Dixon shot darts of hate at me, but the other deputy nodded. “We’ll let you get back to your lunch.”

  The two men left, and Bill and I took our seats.

  “What do you think they want?” Tony asked.

  “I’m certain they want to know more about what I reported to Luke and Garrett. Are they really taking this as a possible lead, or are they trying to say I’m covering for Dixie? Or maybe they think there are two suspects like I do . . . only they think it’s me and Dixie. Either way, I’d rather bring an attorney just to be on the safe side.”

  “So who are you gonna call?” Bill asked, sounding worried.

  Dammit. I was gonna have to suck up my pride.

  At six that evening, I left the sheriff’s department with Lindy Baker by my side. I’d just spent several hours in an interrogation room. Deputies had come and gone, asking me a wide array of questions and bringing me various mug shots to look at, which was an obvious attempt to lull me into complacency. I’d fully admitted that I’d never seen the guy’s face.

  The hot evening air felt like a sauna after spending the day in air conditioning, and from the way Lindy dabbed her forehead with a tissue, she must have been feeling it too.

  “Let’s sit in my car and discuss this,” she said in a brisk tone.

  I followed her to a small Honda and sat in the passenger seat as she turned the a/c on full blast. The hot air hit my face.

  “Don’t sugarcoat it for me,” I said. “Gut instinct—are they trying to make me an accomplice?”

  She paused for a moment. “Possibly.”

  I pushed out a breath and groaned. Not only had I wasted the entire day, but now I was a suspect too. This day just kept cycling from bad to worse.

  “I know you’ve been investigating Dixie’s case, but from this moment on, you need to stay as far away from the investigation as possible,” she said. “Otherwise you could be seen as tampering with witnesses. You could hurt her instead of help her.”

  “What?” My mouth dropped open. “But the investigation is part of my show.” Then a new thought hit me. What if that had been the plan all along? Was Connor involved in this somehow?

  “Right now they have nothing, so I don’t think you’re in imminent danger of arrest, but I think you should be careful. Stay away from Dixie’s case.”

  Dammit. “Do you think they believed me about Dixie being drugged?”

  “They might have been more receptive if y’all had reported it when it happened. Now it seems a little too convenient.”

  “But Teddy took her pee to the lab.”

  “And they said they would check into that, but for right now, she’s still the prime suspect, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they go after you for helping her cover it up.”

  Well, shit.

  “Oh . . . ,” she said. “There’s something else.” She lifted her phone and showed me her screen—a report from TMZ with the headline “More Trouble in Darlingland—Drugs, Arson, Murder, Oh, My!” She gave me a wry look. “That broke fast.”

  Lauren.

  I reached for the door handle and started to get out, but she called after me. “Summer.”

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh. She hesitated long enough that I turned, anticipating something bad.

  Her lips puckered like she’d taken a huge bite out of a lemon. “Luke’s a good man. Don’t let him get caught up in all this.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “Look, Luke’s a great guy—down-to-earth, thoughtful . . . very attractive, especially with his shirt off. I totally get why you’re interested in him.”

  Jealousy rose up inside me like a thunderhead. When had she seen him with his shirt off?

  “But Luke’s not a complicated guy, and he likes the rules. Needs them. That should be obvious enough since he’s the police chief.” She paused. “I can already tell you like to skirt them. So if you really care about Luke, ask yourself if being with you is going to make his life better or worse, because from where I’m sitting, you’re nothin’ but drama.”

  I had to admit that she was right, and I hated her for it. I hated her even more when I realized she’d made the entire speech without a shred of gloating. “Thank you for helping me with the sheriff’s department, and while you’re right about everything, you’re fired.”

  “What?”

  “I hope to God you were really telling me that as Luke’s friend and not his scorned lover, but the fact is that I can’t trust you, Ms. Baker, and if I can’t trust you, you’re worthless to me. Send me a bill for today, for the work you’ve done for Dixie and me, and we’ll find a new attorney.” I climbed out of the car. “And I’ll be telling Luke about this conversation, so I hope it was worth it.”

  I slammed the door and walked over to my truck. I sat behind the steering wheel for nearly a minute, embracing my self-pity. Then I realized Deputy Dixon was watching me from a window with a wide grin. He thought I was sitting here stewing over him. As if.

  I lifted my hand and gave him a one-finger salute (sorry, Luke, good sense be damned) and backed out of the parking spot. Where the hell was I going to go? I couldn’t face the guys right now, I didn’t want to see Luke, and the last thing I wanted to do was admit to Teddy that things were even worse than they’d seemed this morning. What I really needed was a drink.

  I was going to the Jackhammer.

  I turned right and continued out of town, grabbing my phone out of my purse and turning it on. The messages and missed calls began to roll up my screen, half a dozen of them from Luke. I’d texted and told him about the appointment, but I hadn’t told him where, or that it would take hours. First I needed to call the guys.

  Bill answered right away. “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding worried. The echo of his voice let me know he’d put me on speakerphone.

  “I’m okay for now.” Then I proceeded to tell him everything that had happened with the exception of my firing Lindy and why. “So y’all take off for the night, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Are you really giving up Dixie’s investigation?” Tony asked.

  “No, but I can’t risk hurting Dixie either,” I said. “I need to figure out a way around this, but I also need a drink, so I’m going to the Jackhammer. Maybe a few shots of whiskey will help me think straighter.”

  “Said no one the next day ever,” Bill said. “What if Rick Springfield’s out there?”

  “I seriously doubt I could get so lucky.” Then I hung up.

  I started to call Luke, but I couldn’t handle talking to him. I kept hearing Lindy asking me if I was making Luke’s life better or worse. I used my voice control to send him a text.

  I’m fine. Sorry to worry you. I need some time alone.

  The parking lot was fairly empty, but then it was only six thirty on a Wednesday night. I headed inside and took a seat on a bar stool as far from the door as possible.

  “What can I get ya?” a woman asked, her shirt unbuttoned far enough that I got a very good view of her cleavage.

  “Jameson. Two fingers. Neat.”

  She laughed and put her hand on her hip. “Bad day?”

  “The worst.”

  She grabbed a glass, gave me a generous pour, and set it in front of me. “Want me to open a tab?”

  “Might as well. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

  She tapped the counter and smiled. “I’m Brandy. Let me know if you need anything else.”

  I picked up the glass. “Don’t go far, because thi
s won’t last long.” The glass was empty in a couple of minutes, and I asked for another.

  She grabbed the bottle and poured another generous amount into my glass. “You might want to pace yourself.”

  I lifted my glass and took a long sip.

  She grinned. “Or not. I get it. Sometimes you just need to get shit-faced. You got anyone joinin’ ya?”

  I thought about Luke, and tears stung my eyes. “Not tonight.”

  “Bad breakup?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Ah . . . ,” she said, shaking her head. “Girlfriend, say no more.”

  I knew she had misunderstood, but I didn’t correct her as I sipped my whiskey. Just this morning I’d vowed to Luke to stubbornly fight for us. Was I really going to be a liar? But there was no denying I had the power to destroy him with my imminent arrest. Would he stick through it with me out of love? Honor and obligation? If he did, would he eventually hate me for taking away everything he’d dreamed of? Because there was no doubt if I was arrested as an accomplice, it could and probably would destroy his career. At the very least, it would destroy his credibility.

  I’d just finished my second drink when the door opened and Bill walked in. He scanned the room until his gaze landed on me.

  I patted the stool next to me. “Have a seat, buddy.” Then I patted it some more.

  “Oh, my God. Are you drunk already?” he asked in dismay.

  Brandy leaned her elbow on the counter, her eyes narrowing. “Is this the guy?”

  I stared at her for a moment, then realized what she was asking. I laughed. “No . . . this is my . . .” I almost said cameraman, then caught myself. “Bill.”

  Brandy grinned. “Welcome, my Bill. Your friend’s had two doubles already. You want to play catch-up?”

  He gave me a dubious look.

  “Billllll,” I said, “don’t let me drink alone.”

  He sighed, then sat on the stool. “Just give me a beer.”

  “And put it on my tab,” I called after her.

  She walked away, and Bill leaned closer. “Come on, Summer. What the hell are you doing?”

  “Isn’t obvious? I’m getting drunk.”

 

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