by Rebecca Deel
Meg breathed in a whiff of the first three, shaking her head after each. When she tried the last one, she froze. “That’s it.” She looked at the label. Sherwood. Like the forest. How appropriate.
“That’s our most expensive cologne.”
She named a price that made Meg wince.
“Would you like me to wrap this for your husband or boyfriend?”
“I don’t want to buy that.” The girl looked so disappointed that Meg didn’t have the heart to leave without buying something from her. She’d been a great help. “What have you got in musky scents?’
The smile reappeared on the counter girl’s face. She thrust the coffee cup back in Meg’s hand. “Sniff more of this and I’ll bring some for you to try.”
A few minutes later, as Meg stood by the cash register, the counter girl glanced up from Meg’s debit card with a startled look on her face. “You’re the woman who was attacked on the trail the other night with Sherri Drake.”
A knot formed in Meg’s stomach. “Yes.”
“I was so sorry to hear about Sherri. She was a nice lady.”
Meg glanced at her name tag. “You knew her, Lucy?”
Lucy handed back her card. “She came in every couple of months to purchase cologne for her husband.”
“Do you remember what kind? Was it Sherwood?” Did Ty wear that kind of cologne? She thought back to her interview with him, but he hadn’t stood close enough or she would have smelled that pine scent.
Lucy shook her head. “Oh, no. Sherri hated that kind of cologne. She always bought him British Wave. It’s a spicy scent.”
“Did Sherri come in recently?”
“No. Ty did, though.” She busied herself tidying the counter, color staining her cheeks.
“What happened, Lucy? Did he say something to you?”
The girl’s face twisted into a scowl. “He didn’t, but that woman on his arm sure did.” She bagged Meg’s purchase and scooted it in front of her.
Again? Meg felt sick. How could Ty do that to Sherri after all the promises he’d made the last time? “What woman?”
“Candy Wilson. Candy. What kind of name is that for a grown woman?”
Meg handed her business card to Lucy. “If you think of anything else about Sherri, Ty or Candy, call me.”
The girl studied Meg’s card. “You’re investigating?”
“Sort of. I’m helping a friend.”
Minutes later, locked inside the Jeep, Meg pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number now very familiar. “Can you meet me for lunch?”
“So, what’s up?” Rod bit into the chicken salad crescent Serena had put in front of him. Oh, man. He closed his eyes and savored the taste. It was a miracle Ethan didn’t put on tons of weight with cooking like this on hand all the time.
The bell over The Bare Ewe’s door tinged. Rod’s gaze automatically shifted to the front of Madison’s yarn store and surveyed the two women walking in the door. Doubtful the two blue-haired women were serious threats to security, he returned his attention to Meg.
“Thanks for meeting me here. I was afraid we might be overheard in a restaurant.” She took several swallows of her Coke before continuing. “I found the pine scent at the cologne counter at Flint’s.”
Somehow he wasn’t surprised. When Meg wanted information, not much seemed to stop her. “What was it?”
“Something called Sherwood. It’s the most expensive brand in the store.”
And not a cologne for a run-of-the-mill thief. He’d have to follow up with Flint’s and see if they could give him a list of customers who bought that brand. “Okay. What else did you learn?”
She paused in her chewing to stare. After she swallowed, she said, “How did you know there was more?”
“When a beautiful woman invites me to lunch, there’s got to be more than a product name she could pass on over the phone.”
“Beautiful?” she whispered. Her cheeks turned pink.
“I take that back.” He smiled at the disappointment in her eyes. “A better description would be breath-taking.”
Meg smiled. “With compliments like that, I’ll have to come up with other excuses for dates with you.”
“Dates?” Serena placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of Rod, her gaze shifting from him to her sister. A smile formed on her mouth. “Did I hear that right?”
“You aren’t supposed to eavesdrop, Serena.”
“Don’t change the subject.” Serena tilted her head. “Are you and my sister dating, Rod?”
He felt Meg’s gaze on him. How was he supposed to answer that? He didn’t want to hurt Meg. So he hedged. “It’s complicated.”
Serena grinned. “That wasn’t a no.”
Rod chuckled. “Okay, it wasn’t a no.”
“Serena, don’t you have somewhere to be? Like somebody’s kitchen?” Meg’s face looked flushed.
Her sister laughed. “All right, you win for now. I’ll leave the other sandwiches in the refrigerator if you want more, Rod.”
“These are great, Serena. Thanks.”
After Serena left, Rod turned his attention back to Meg. “What else did you learn at Flint’s, Meg?”
“I talked to the counter girl in the men’s cologne section. Sherri used to come in every few weeks to buy cologne for Ty.”
Rod pushed aside his empty plate and lifted the mug of coffee to his lips. “What kind?”
“British Wave, definitely not Sherwood. Lucy said Sherri didn’t buy that scent for Ty.”
“And?”
“And Ty came in to buy cologne for himself not too long ago, but he wasn’t alone and the woman he was with wasn’t Sherri.”
Rod set down his mug with a thud. “Ty was having an affair?”
“You’re not surprised, are you? This isn’t the first one.”
“It isn’t?”
Meg looked puzzled. “He had a relationship with one of his students.”
Try as he might, he couldn’t remember hearing about that. “You sure it wasn’t Kyle?”
“Kyle has so many women a new one wouldn’t make the news.”
The tension in his gut lessened at Meg’s disgusted tone. She knew about Kyle’s constant stream of women. “Ty’s affair made the news? When?”
“Almost two years ago.”
About the time Erin and Kayla died. No wonder he didn’t remember the story.
Meg’s gaze sought and held his. “I’m the one who wrote the story.”
“That’s why he threw you out yesterday?”
“Ty lost his job at Camden University because of my story. I guess he still harbors some hard feelings.”
Rod grunted. That was putting a mild spin on how Ty felt about Meg. “Who was the woman with Ty at Flint’s?”
“Candy Wilson.”
He wrote the name on his pad. “I’ll check her out.” His cell phone buzzed. “Kelter.”
“It’s Ethan. We got a hit on the Black Navigator.”
“Who?”
“Judge Wyatt.”
Rod’s hand tightened around his pen. “Any others?”
“No other matches, Rod.” Ethan paused. “Want me to meet you at the courthouse?”
“I’ll take care of it.” He ended the call and stood. “I’ve got to go.”
“What’s wrong?”
“We traced the license plate of the SUV that almost hit you yesterday.”
Meg jumped to her feet. “I’m going with you.”
“Meg.”
“Don’t feed me the police business line, Rod.” She grabbed her bag and shoved her chair in place. “I promise not to get in your way, but my showing up might rattle whoever was driving the SUV.”
“No.”
“Look, either you take me along or I’ll just follow you. That might not be too safe since I seem to inspire accidents near cars these days.”
Rod grimaced, but didn’t say anything more. He’d rather keep her close until he had the killer behind bars. After that, he’d fi
gure out what to do about the haunting journalist who had started appearing in his dreams.
Meg stared out the SUV’s front windshield. “What are we doing here?” The courthouse loomed in front of them, white columns rising three stories. She twisted in her seat.
“The SUV is registered to Judge Wyatt.” Rod opened the door and waited for her on the sidewalk.
Meg scrambled for her bag, hopped out and joined him. “What’s the plan?”
“You keep quiet. I’ll ask questions.”
“That’s it?”
“You have a better one?”
“Yeah, I get to ask questions as well. We tag team him.”
“Want to wait in the car, Cahill?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. No questions.” Unless, of course, she couldn’t help herself.
They climbed the courthouse steps in silence. Near the top, a crowd of people surged down the stairs. One man knocked into her in his haste to get down the stairs. Rod slipped his arm around her back to steady her, but didn’t move it until they reached the hallway outside Judge Wyatt’s chambers.
In the outer office, Rod explained to the judge’s assistant that he needed to see Wyatt on police business. After a couple of minutes, the assistant motioned them into Wyatt’s inner sanctum.
The judge’s black robe hung on a coat tree in a corner of the office. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined the walls. Meg envied the book space, but not the volumes in his collection. All law books.
“Detective Kelter, what can I do for you?” Wyatt nodded in greeting to Meg and motioned them to the seats in front of his desk.
“You own a Black Navigator, plate number NJR 378?”
Alarmed, Wyatt got to his feet. “What’s wrong? Did someone hit my car in the parking lot?”
“Your SUV was involved in an incident yesterday.”
“What kind of incident?”
“It came within inches of hitting Miss Cahill.”
The judge sat abruptly. “Where? When?”
“In the square around 4:00 yesterday afternoon.”
“I was in court at that time, Detective. My bailiff can verify that.” He turned his gaze to Megan. “Are you all right, Ms. Cahill?”
“A few bruises, sir.”
Rod pulled out his notepad. “Who has access to your keys, sir?”
“My wife and my son.” He rubbed his jaw. “My wife is out of town visiting her mother in California. She’s been gone since Sunday morning.”
“Then I need to speak to your son, sir.”
“Of course, but I insist on being with Tommy when you question him. He’s still a minor.”
“It was an accident. You’ve got to believe me.” Tommy Wyatt’s dark eyes radiated fear.
Rod sat beside the sixteen-year-old boy on the couch. “Tell me what happened, Tommy.”
“Mom left her keys here when she flew to see Grandma. I saw them on the counter and took them.” He hung his head. “One of my friends gave me a ride to the courthouse.”
“You took my car for a joyride?” Judge Wyatt’s voice rose.
Tommy flinched.
Rod shot the judge a glance and held up his hand like a traffic cop. “What did you do when you arrived at the courthouse?”
“I took the Navigator for a spin around the block a few times.”
“Bet it drives like a dream.”
Tommy glanced at Rod, a plea for understanding on his face. “It’s so smooth.”
“Gas pedal responds easily?”
Red suffused the boy’s face. “Too easy. I meant to speed up a little, but I guess I pressed down too hard.”
“Detective, I’ll pay any medical expenses or damages caused by my son. I’d take this as a personal favor if you’d go easy on the boy.” He glared at his son. “I guarantee he won’t be driving anything faster than a bike for the next six months.”
“You were lucky, Tommy.” Rod’s gaze held the boy’s. “If you had hit Ms. Cahill, you might have critically injured her or even killed her, and leaving the scene of an accident is a crime. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir.” Tommy hung his head. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Cahill.”
Meg patted his knee. “I’m just glad it wasn’t an irate reader.”
“Have you taken a driver’s education course?” Rod asked.
The teen shook his head.
Rod stood and turned to the judge. “Enroll him in a course by the first of the year. I want confirmation that he completed the program. If he drops out or fails, I get his license until he passes. Deal?”
Relief washed over the judge’s face. “Thank you, Detective. Tommy will deliver the proof of passing or his license to you himself. I owe you and Chief Blackhawk.”
Outside, Meg said, “That was nice of you. You could have caused that boy a lot of trouble.”
“Nice?” Rod jerked the passenger door open. “That boy hurt you, could have killed you. I wanted to pound his face into the dirt.”
She smiled wryly. “Judge Wyatt would have objected to that.”
Rod lifted her into the passenger seat. “You were so lucky.”
Meg’s hand cupped his cheek. “It wasn’t luck. It was you.”
He pressed her hand with his for a moment, stepped back and slammed the door.
Ethan sank deeper into his chair. “The judge’s son?”
“Yeah.” Rod ran a hand through his hair. “Joyride around the block. He hit the gas too hard. I told Wyatt that his son had to enroll in driver’s education and pass or his driver’s license was mine.”
Ethan nodded. “Good call. Wyatt’s okay with that?”
“Said he owed us.”
“At least this one wasn’t a legit attempt on Meg.”
“This time.”
“Coroner called just before you arrived.”
Rod sat up straighter in the chair. “What did he find?”
“The bullet that killed Sherri is the same type that killed her mother. He’s sending it to the lab for comparison.”
“What about Sherri’s coat? Was it missing any buttons?”
Ethan shook his head. “And none of the buttons were personalized.”
“Will he fax the complete report?”
“It should be here any time. Did you talk to Ty today?”
“Kyle. Ty was with the funeral director. Sherri’s funeral is tomorrow morning.”
“Anything come out of the interview?”
“Not much. Kyle says Ty has a key to Mrs. King’s house and Mr. King dropped off the scene about 13 years ago.” Rod stopped. Kyle’s comments about Meg came back. He frowned.
“What else?”
“Maybe nothing. Kyle showed some interest in Megan, so I warned him off.”
Ethan stared at him for a minute. “Did you warn him off as a cop protecting a witness or something more personal?”
Rod felt the heat rise in his face. “Serena talked to you, didn’t she?”
“Which is it, Rod?”
“I don’t know, okay?” His fists clenched. “I don’t know how I feel right now.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Kill the story about the SUV.”
Ruth’s mouth dropped. “Why? It’s a great eye-catcher.”
“It will also embarrass Judge Wyatt if we print it.” Meg sat on the corner of Ruth’s desk. “And torture a sixteen-year-old kid who needs driving lessons.”
“It was the Judge’s son?”
“Joy riding.”
“All right.” Ruth frowned. “So, what are we using to replace that story?”
“I think we’re onto something with the water system story. Did you get in touch with the other council members?”
Ruth nodded. “None of them know anything about the company. Did you see the mayor?”
Meg grinned. “Mission accomplished.”
“How did you get past his bodyguard?”
“Velda?” She laughed. What a perfect description of the mayor’s assistant. “I reminded her about the up
coming mayoral election next fall.”
“And she wants to keep her job.” Ruth smiled. “A new mayor would bring in a new assistant. Very good, my dear. So what did you learn from Parks?”
“He recommended De Marco Water Works for the water project based on the word of Senator Drake.”
Ruth made a few notes on her pad. “What about a project timeline and a cost estimate?” When Meg gave her the information, she dropped her pen. “Do we have another bid to compare De Marco’s against?”
“The mayor talked like it was a done deal and the vote was just a formality.”
“What connection does Senator Drake have to De Marco? Why would he recommend it?”
Meg folded her arms across her chest. “I asked him that when I ran into him at the Town Hall. He was going on the word of his campaign finance manager. Brandenburg is the one who recommended De Marco.”
Ruth frowned. “Well, we’ll see about this deal being in the bag for the council. We need to talk to Brandenburg.”
Meg stood. “I’ll try to schedule an interview with him.”
“While you’re tracking him down, I’ll research De Marco on the Internet.”
Minutes later, Meg grabbed her bag and walked into the outer office. “I’m off to the Brandenburg home.”
Ruth dragged her gaze from the computer screen. “Want me to go with you? Brandenburg is connected to the Drakes. I doubt Ethan or Rod would want you to go alone.”
“I’ll be fine. His wife’s at home with the kids. Tell Zoe where I am when she returns.”
In the Gateway subdivision, Meg slowed to admire the large houses. She wondered how much campaign finance managers netted in salary each year. Must be a chunk to afford a home in this neighborhood. The smallest house she’d seen so far appeared to be about 4,000 square feet. And that one wasn’t the Brandenburg house.
She drove two more blocks, confirmed the address and turned into the gated drive. At the wrought-iron gates, she pressed the button on the panel and noted the security camera moving in her direction. After a moment, the gates slowly swung open to admit her.
She cruised up the meandering drive and parked in front of a broad staircase leading to two large double doors. She was definitely in the wrong business if Brandenburg earned enough to afford a mansion that easily topped 10,000 square feet.
