Lawful Engagement. Linda O. JohnstonЧитать онлайн книгу.
air pumped out by his heavy breathing. Leaning toward Cara across the conference table, he sputtered, “Ms. Hamilton, if you even so much as hint in your paper that this department is doing less than a fine job, I’ll—” He broke off as he obviously searched in vain for something dire enough to threaten her with.
She rose and stood behind her chair, hands resting on its back. Mitch noticed that her nails were short and unpolished, businesslike. The hands of a woman who didn’t pamper herself.
“I report the facts, Sheriff Wilson,” she said. “That’s all.” Her smile was so sweet that she might have been eating cherries. But there was an intensity in her glare, a tilt to her chin, all evidence that Cara Hamilton wasn’t intimidated.
Mitch wanted to grab the sassy reporter and kiss those grinning lips. Like other urges, though, he kept this one to himself. Cara was standing up to the irritating, heavy-handed Ben Wilson as Mitch would have done, given a choice. And Mitch was enjoying every moment of it.
“Well, just watch your facts, missy,” Ben hissed. “You’d better make good and sure they’re true, or I’ll sue you and your paper for slander. You tell that to your editor, Mr. Beauford Jennings, hear? In fact, I think I’ll give Beau a call myself a little later, set him straight.”
Cara’s smile faded. “Beau doesn’t buckle under threats, Sheriff, and neither do I.” But the hint of uneasiness in her expression suggested Ben had scored a hit. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have research to do.”
“I’m not through with you, Ms. Hamilton.” Ben walked around the table till he faced down Cara. Mitch nearly smiled when she did not step back.
“I’ve told you all I know, Sheriff. Now, go do your job and find out who killed Nancy.” The sureness in her tone wavered a bit at the last. “She was my friend.” Cara finally dropped her gaze, and Mitch figured she didn’t want the sheriff to see any sign of weakness, like tears.
They might not move Ben Wilson, but Mitch had an urge to soothe the brash, yet altogether human, reporter. Instead, he stayed out of it.
“That act won’t convince me you didn’t kill her,” Ben growled. “In fact, I will go do my job, like you said. I’ll conduct a nice, thorough background check on you, interview everyone you’ve ever known, make sure Beau knows how close we’re observing you. You’ll be so busy watching your own behind that you won’t have time to write lies about anyone. You can go write about weddings and funerals like a good little girl.”
“Not on your life,” Cara retorted, raising her head once more to glare up into the sheriff’s looming face. Ben’s scowl could have etched steel, and Mitch could all but see the steam rise in Cara. “And I told you not to threaten me.”
Time for Mitch to break this up before something irreparable happened. Maybe Cara belonged in jail, though he doubted it. But if she did, it shouldn’t be for irritating the sheriff. “Okay, Ms. Hamilton. We get the picture, and I think you do, too. You can go now, but we’ll be in touch. I’m sure we’ll have more questions.”
She turned her glare on him and opened her mouth as if to fling him an angry retort. Before she said anything, though, the door to the interrogation room opened and Hurley Zeller burst in. “How we doing here? Boss, there’s an important call for you.” He waved a portable phone handset. “Want me to continue the interrogation?”
“No, it’s over,” Ben said.
As he turned away from Cara and took the phone, Mitch said, “Allow me to show you out, Ms. Hamilton.”
“No need,” she said quickly, but Mitch nevertheless led her around Ben and Hurley, who eavesdropped on his boss’s conversation.
The call must not have been that important, for it only took Ben a few seconds. Or maybe it had just been Hurley’s excuse to interrupt.
“Don’t go far, Steele,” Ben called as Cara stepped in front of Mitch into the reception area. “We need to talk.”
“In a second, chief.” Mitch took a few more steps so Ben couldn’t see him, then bent slightly, inhaling Cara’s fresh scent once more. “Watch your step,” he whispered into Cara’s ear, then turned and headed back.
In the interrogation room, Ben and Hurley were engaged in a private discussion, heads together, oblivious to his return. He froze in the doorway, straining to hear.
“The bitch’ll ruin the election,” Hurley grumbled. “We’ve gotta—”
“Okay, Steele,” Ben interrupted, raising his head abruptly as he apparently noticed Mitch. “You’re evidently tight with Ms. Hamilton, so here’s what I want. You talk to her, make sure she understands we’re all working hard here. We’re focused on this latest murder and we’ll bring the perpetrator to justice. Like she figured, she’s not our top suspect, but we won’t let her off the hook. Not yet. Tell her I’ll grant her an interview sometime when we’re not all so riled up, okay? Better yet, I’ll talk to her boss, Beau, tell her that. Just keep an eye on her.”
Frustration and fury shot through Mitch so fiercely that they burned like lightning bolts. He’d just been given his latest little assignment to keep him busy while someone else conducted the investigation.
Not that spending more time with Cara Hamilton would be a painful pastime, though a guy had to consider every word around her. But he wasn’t about to baby-sit while this investigation was bungled like the others. For she’d been right on target. Outsiders had solved the last murders, instead of the Sheriff’s Department, who should have.
And that could be of major significance to Mitch and his own quest. At least one person in the department had to have been involved in his dad’s murder but had been cagey enough to prevent Mitch from gleaning all but the most circumstantial evidence for two long and frustrating years. The cover-up was deep. That could mean it came from the top.
And…election? What election were they talking about?
Mitch thought fast. “Sure, chief. Promising to talk to her is a fine way to get on Ms. Hamilton’s good side so she’ll spill what she knows. It’ll help me run the investigation of the Wilks murder.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ben said, one hand in the air as if to halt contradiction by Mitch. “Hurley’ll take over.”
Mitch would have given anything to be able to punch the smirk off Deputy Zeller’s ugly face, but he didn’t. He stood still. He also stood his ground. Sure, he remained here because of his own investigation, but that didn’t mean he’d turned his back on his law enforcement career. “Not a good idea,” he said with more calmness than he felt. “I was there first and got a good walk-through of the crime scene even before the techs arrived. I have a sense of what was there, the neighbors’ reactions, a lot of insight—”
“Yeah, like you can just call up a vision and solve the murder.” Hurley’s tone was derisive.
“Maybe some of my ancestors could have done just that,” Mitch replied, forcing the words out mildly. He knew better than to respond to harassment revolving around his Native American blood. Despite being charged with upholding the law, the Mustang County Sheriff and his department were unconcerned about protecting anyone from discrimination based on ancestry, origin or anything else. But Mitch wasn’t about to point that out. He was after something much bigger than whistle-blowing about harassment.
Keeping the flames of his temper on low, he continued, “Managing Ms. Hamilton will be a priority, but I want to head the investigation. Of course, I’ll have to solve it fast or risk her writing a story that claims I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Would Ben be smart enough to bite on that not-so-subtle bait? For what Mitch had left unsaid was that he would wind up as the public scapegoat if the department failed, once again, to solve the murder.
On the other hand, he hadn’t been on the other investigations. He hadn’t been the one who’d blown them.
And he didn’t intend to fail on this