Keller County Cops Book Seven: Code of Vengeance (20 page)

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

"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.

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.

On to the next name:
Tom Foster,
a bully who worked offshore and spent most of his home time terrorizing his wife. They'd only been married for a short time, and she'd already been in the hospital twice. She'd left him during his last stint out in the Gulf working on an oil rig and had gotten a restraining order against him, but it hadn't done a damned bit of good. He'd tracked her down after he got home, and sheriff's deputies had arrested him -- only the judge let him off with only a warning. Keegan fumed. The bastard could definitely use an attitude adjustment.

A permanent one.

She winced. She'd feel a whole lot better slicing the throat of a murderer, but Foster might kill his wife any day now... so if Keegan took him out, she'd really just be paying it forward, right? Taking his life before he could kill the woman he supposedly loved.

She looked him up in the computer and smiled. He hadn't been picked up since the last time he'd put his wife in the hospital, so he must either be out on a rig or at home complicating her lonely life. Keegan memorized their address and then looked it up on her map app. In town. At least they didn't live out in the boonies like Parker did, although the idea of catching a target in an isolated location did appeal to her. She'd have to follow Foster like she had Dirk and learn his favorite haunts. Might be a while before she could actually do the deed because he worked offshore, but she should go after the worst available threat first, right?

So she'd just have to wait.

Determined to have the upper hand this time when she did strike, she examined Foster's mug shot. One long look into his flat chocolate eyes, and a shiver ran down her spine. The picture certainly didn't flatter him. He had shaggy brown hair, those lifeless eyes, and a nose reshaped by one too many fights. The angle of the camera gave him a vicious look. According to his file, he stood just over six feet tall and weighed approximately two hundred pounds, making him a big guy like Dirk who could take her out with a single punch.

She couldn't allow that to happen.

"More classes," she murmured to herself. "Although how I'll find the time..."

She jotted down his particulars, looked up his employer's address, and then turned off her computer. The day had only just begun, and yet the trial was over. So instead of calling the court clerk to see if she needed help, Keegan headed upstairs to see the woman in person. She had plenty of personal time built up and could really use the rest of the day to regroup and maybe do a little reconnaissance. She also wanted to check on Rick, since he hadn't answered her call.

Before she reached the court clerk's office, however, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and checked the display. Speak of the devil.

Her heart rate picked up as she accepted the call. "Hello, Sheriff."

"Hey, Keegan." He paused. "Just, um... returning your call."

"I only called to see how you were doing," she said, sidling up to the wall and leaning against it. Not many people were wandering the courthouse halls, so no one should overhear her side of the conversation. She bit her lip. "Oh, and to tell you the jury acquitted Ronald Wicker."

"Seriously?" he rasped. "Damn."

"No worries." She couldn't stop the grin that spread over her face. "Rebecca's brother shot him right after the foreman announced the verdict. I'm surprised you haven't heard."

"Oh, my God. Really?"

"Yes. The courtroom was a complete madhouse." She went on to describe how Rouse had banged his gavel for order while the bailiff, the detectives, and the deputy wrestled with Dave. "I didn't know the detectives involved, but I have seen them and the deputy a time or two."

"Did that make you feel good?"

"What do you mean?" Her insides turned icy. "I-I don't understand."

"I'm only curious. You seem rather
vindictive
toward men who've been accused of murdering their wives or girlfriends and then gotten off without serving time. I just figured you probably believe Wicker deserved to get shot."

"Maybe I do," she said quietly. It was true, and if he hated her for it... well, so be it.

He paused again. "Knew I had you pegged. You might find it hard to believe, but in this instance I agree with you. Not about someone playing vigilante and gunning the guy down in cold blood, but about him getting off in the first place. Never should've happened."

"So you believe he killed his wife?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then why didn't your detectives pile up more evidence against him?" Anger rose in her chest. "I'm sure you're familiar with the case, and that you followed it pretty closely. Why didn't they have anything solid to add to all the circumstantial evidence Abington submitted?"

"Because the bastard did a damned good job of covering his tracks. We did our best, but he left no physical evidence. No fingerprints, no DNA, no extraneous hairs or fibers. Place was clean as a whistle. He also had an alibi we couldn't break."

"His cousin. I'm willing to bet Wicker paid him off."

"You're probably right. We couldn't get him to change his story no matter what we did. We had no leverage against him, no nothing. So don't be too hard on my guys. Just like with Woodward, they did the best they could. Smart criminals watch TV, too. With so many forensic shows on the air, plus the Internet, they know what to do to avoid getting nabbed."