Leah tilted her phone’s screen toward Deacon. He read the message. “Why would they go back and check for prints at the crime scene?”
“Great question,” she said, looking at him sympathetically. “And especially since you had on gloves.”
“I took those off.”
“Right.”
Deacon saw through Charles Dougherty. He and Leah had obviously been in a serious relationship and the man was a sore loser. The breakup had to have been recent for him to still be licking his wounds. Deacon had to ask an important question. Could being with Leah jeopardize his getting information about the crime?
The next text that came read, Bring him in to talk to the chief and then keep clear of him if you care about your career.
Based on Leah’s expression as she read the text, the warning was about as welcome as fire ants overrunning a picnic.
“I’m sorry he’s making this personal.” There was sincerity in her serious eyes as she blinked up at him. “It’s probably best if you go in to the station on your own and explain your side of the story to Chief Dillinger. He won’t like the fact that you visited the crime scene or spoke to Henry but he’s reasonable and it’s understandable what you’re doing to solve the crimes against your animals. I won’t tell you to lie about going to the morgue. I signed in but left your name off any paperwork.”
“I believe in telling the truth,” he said. For some reason he cared that she knew he was an honest man.
“Being with me is going to make you Charles’s target.” That much was certain.
“I don’t back down from bullies.” He took her hand in his. “What’s your next move?”
“Explain myself to my boss and hope for the best,” she admitted. “Charles is being a jerk and he’s trying to back me down.”
Deacon didn’t want to say his impression of Charles out loud. It involved a few choice words. If Deacon could face off with Charles one-on-one, he wouldn’t hesitate. The fact that Charles had gone behind their backs and spoken to someone in charge in order to get her in trouble for her association with Deacon said all he needed to know about the man’s character.
“Seems to me we should head to the station right away. The longer the chief has to let his imagination run wild, the worse it’ll be for you.” Deacon put his hand on the small of her back and walked her to the driver’s side of her vehicle.
She stopped at the opened door, took his hand and tugged him toward her without saying a word.
He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her one more time, swearing it was the last. This time, he captured that freckle after she bit down on his bottom lip. His blood got going again, heating as it fired through his veins. The detective was sexy. Her intelligence skyrocketed her to a whole new level of attraction.
She has a kid. Deacon would remind himself of the fact a hundred times an hour if he had to in order to keep his attraction in check.
On the ride to the station, Deacon must’ve repeated that mantra four dozen times. He also called his friend, Mayor Shield, to give him a heads-up on the situation. Deacon parked next to her vehicle and exited his.
With a look of fortitude and a deep breath, she led him into the brick one-story. There were twin glass doors up the set of stairs leading into the lobby area. Leah badged them inside after greeting the officer at the front desk.
The chief’s office was at the back of the old schoolhouse-looking building. There was more glass but his office also had mini blinds in order to shut everyone out, which seemed odd. Why build a glass office if the blinds were going to be closed most of the time?
The slats were open enough to see the chief sitting at his desk, staring at his computer screen.
Leah knocked.
The chief looked to be in his early fifties and in peak physical fitness. He glanced up and frowned as he waved them inside.
“Sir, this is Deacon Kent,” Leah said, stepping aside as though presenting Deacon.
Recognition of the last name flashed behind the middle-aged man’s serious blue eyes. His hair was mostly gray but there were remnants of the blond streaks from his younger days. He wore the expression of a man who had the world on his shoulders. He was a buttoned-up guy.
Deacon stepped forward and stretched out his hand. The chief took the offering in a vigorous shake. The job was political in many ways and Deacon wondered if the handshake was natural to Dillinger or if he’d learned it for the job. None of which mattered if the guy was actually good at what he did.
Assessing the situation, Deacon figured going in throwing his weight around wouldn’t get the results he wanted from this meeting and could end up getting Leah in more trouble.
“I apologize for any inconvenience, Chief,” Deacon started.
Dillinger nodded. “You want to have a seat?”
The chief was either being polite or figured this was going to take a while. Or maybe he was just feeling Deacon out.
“I’m okay standing,” Deacon said, making it clear he didn’t intend to be there for long. The chief reported to the mayor and Mayor Shield was a longtime family friend of the Kent family. Dillinger most likely knew this.
“Would you like to explain why your prints were found at my crime scene?” Dillinger got straight to the point.
“As a matter of fact, I would. I visited the scene the night after the murder.” Deacon paused out of respect for Jillian Mitchell. He lowered his voice. “My deepest sympathy goes to the Mitchell family.”
The chief acknowledged the moment of silence. “Can I ask what you thought you’d find?”
“Are you aware of the killings on my family’s ranch?” Deacon asked.
“The mayor briefed me a few minutes ago.” The chief’s voice was steady. If he’d been intimidated or offended, he didn’t show it. But then in a city the size of Fort Worth, the man had probably seen and heard almost everything. A chief in a city with that many residents would also know the political aspects of the job.
Deacon owed Shield a thank-you call because he had a feeling this meeting would be going a lot differently if the mayor hadn’t intervened.
“My fear is that the killer could be escalating. From what I read in the news the other morning, this case seemed like exactly that was happening. I wanted to help,” Deacon said.
“Why not call my office?”
It was a reasonable question. “I wasn’t sure I had anything to say yet.”
“And now?” This got the chief’s attention.
“I’m convinced it’s not the same guy.”
Dillinger looked startled. “How so?”
“Our guy hacks the left hoof and then leaves the heifer to bleed out, like he’s taunting us. Jillian Mitchell’s right foot was cut clean off.”
“I have a suspect behind bars,” the chief said.
He couldn’t share the part about his knowing there was no murder weapon recovered. “How strong is the case?”
The chief didn’t respond, which meant he knew he’d have to release Henry.
“You have a scared man with a rap sheet in lockup who didn’t commit the crime,” Deacon said.
“Are you interfering with my investigation?” The chief’s chest practically puffed out. Politics or no, he wouldn’t appreciate someone from the outside interfering in his territory.
“I spoke to Henry to see if there was a connection. I’m a concerned citizen, trying to stop a man from butchering cattle or worse, women. It was never my intention to get in the way of any of your people. But can I ask you this? Why would a detective return to a crime scene and look for prints after he’d already done so?” It was worth putting out there.
LEAH STOOD THERE, head bowed, giving nothing away of her reaction to the exchange between Deacon and the chief. She knew better.
The chief was a reasonable man. He’d see the logic.
“I don’t discuss ongoing murder investigations with citizens no matter how much influence he or she might have,” the chief said after a moment of contemplation.
“Then this meeting is over.” Deacon stood his ground and part of Leah wanted to clap. “Unless I need an attorney, in which case—”
The chief waved him off. “That’s not necessary, Mr. Kent. I appreciate your coming here on your own free will so promptly. I’m sure you can appreciate the fact that a woman has been murdered on my watch and I don’t take that lightly.”
“Believe me, I’m clear on that.” Deacon’s tone left no room for doubt.
“Thank you for your time.” The chief stuck out his hand between them.
Deacon took the offering.
“If anything comes up, will you let us know?” The chief seemed to know Deacon wouldn’t let this go until he had answers.
“Will do, Chief.” Deacon turned to walk out.
“Leah, stick around after Mr. Kent leaves.”
DREAD SETTLED ON Leah’s shoulders like a heavy wet blanket in the cold. Nothing in her wanted to stick around and speak to the chief. Everything in her wanted to walk out that door behind Deacon. “I’ll just see Mr. Kent out.”
The chief nodded.
Leah walked Deacon out to the parking lot.
“I’m sorry about Charles,” she said.
“It’s pretty clear he won’t let this go. I won’t have my family name dragged through the mud over his jealousy.” Deacon meant those words. Leah could see it in his clear gray eyes.
“What makes you think that’s the problem?”
“The way he looked at you. His anger.” Deacon raked his hand through his thick hair. “No one gets that frustrated with someone when they don’t know the details of a situation unless they still have feelings for them. How long ago did the two of you date?”
She didn’t want to talk about Charles with Deacon Kent. But she took in a deep breath and dove in anyway. “It’s been months since the breakup. There wasn’t much on my side of the relationship to begin with but I’m starting to see that the time we spent together meant more to him than I realized. He’s been going through a lot emotionally and I guess so have I.” And that was as much as she was ready to say about it. “I better get back inside. The chief is waiting.”
Deacon took a step toward her and dipped his head down to kiss her.
All willpower to fight against her growing feelings for him exploded. Her fingertips tingled with the desire to touch him again, to get lost in his hair as he kissed her.
He hesitated as though waiting for permission before their lips touched. She pushed up to her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his.
His hands came up to either side of her face, cupping it. Her palms flattened against his muscled chest.
The words this can’t happen were a distant memory as his tongue delved into her mouth. The air hummed with electricity, charging around them.
Rational thought disappeared and all she could focus on was the moment happening between them.
He pulled back first and looked in her eyes.
“You’ll be all right?” There was a protectiveness to his voice that sent a rocket of warmth spiraling through her. Leah could take care of herself and she didn’t need anyone to stand up for her. But it was nice for someone else to have her back for a change. Even in the world of police work, which was a family in its own right, she always felt on the fringe. She’d chosen this life and didn’t regret a minute of it. With her family background, which everyone in the department seemed to clue in on from day one, it was always going to be an uphill battle. Females from The Heights didn’t go into police work. They got into the right colleges after prep school, took six-figure jobs or important volunteer positions after graduating. What had her mother said? Be the person who makes policy, not enforces it. Any idiot with a gun could do that.
Leave it to Mother to insult Leah and an entire profession in one fell swoop.
“He’s frustrated now but it’ll blow over.” At least she hoped it would. Ruining her career wasn’t high on her list of things to do.
Saying goodbye and walking away from Deacon stung more than it should have. A strange part of her wanted to turn around and tell him she’d call him later. She told herself that he’d been a comfort and that was the feeling she was hanging on to. Her mind railed against putting him in the friend zone and especially with the way sexual tension pinged between them every time he was near.
The chief’s door was still open, so she tapped on the glass. She threw her shoulders back in order to fake confidence and forced herself to clear her throat to get the chief’s attention.
Chief Dillinger glanced up from the screen he’d been studying like he was in the middle of taking the MCAT and his future depended on the outcome.
“Come in.” He had that stern voice that he’d probably used with perps when he was on the street.
“Sir, I apologize for—”
“Sit down, Cordon.”
Leah took a seat opposite from him. The chair wasn’t shorter like executives used to give the illusion of being taller and, therefore, more dominant. Dillinger had more height compared to most normal men. Deacon was six feet four inches, tall even by Texas standards. Dillinger didn’t need to manipulate a chair to show his authority. He was a good chief.
“A senior detective has been talking about you.” He stared at her as he steepled his fingers before placing them on top of his otherwise neat and clear desk.
She felt the heat from his glare.
“Detective Dougherty might’ve overlooked key evidence in the Mitchell case,” she started before he stopped her with a hand up.
“Get to your point.” His gaze narrowed.
“He has the wrong guy locked up.” She hadn’t spoken to the suspect but trusted Deacon’s assessment. The guy’s investigative and observation skills were solid.
“Did you interview Detective Dougherty’s suspect?”
“No. But I jog that trail every night around the same time, sir. If the wrong man’s locked up, I want to know. I have reason to believe the killer is still out there.”
The chief’s stare caused the temperature in the room to rise uncomfortably.
“Mr. Kent’s prints were found at the crime scene,” Dillinger said. “That says he’s not particularly careful.”
“He didn’t think he had to be. The area had already been taped off. What I want to know is why a detective would bother searching for prints after that.”
“Meaning?”
“Dougherty went back to lift prints a second time after he knew that Mr. Kent had been in the area,” she said.
“And how did Dougherty know that?”
“I called it in.” She explained that she’d been on the trail and had caught Kent there. She further explained the reason.
Dillinger hiked a brow.
She steadied herself for the blast that was coming next.
“I’ve spent the last ten minutes studying the case file. I agree with your assessment of the suspect in custody. I also see the possible link between Ms. Mitchell’s killer and the activity on Mr. Kent’s ranch. I need to be clear on what I’m about to say next. I can’t have a citizen conducting his own investigation and, worse yet, prove a senior detective is letting his personal relationships color his judgment.”
Leah bit back a curse. That meant the chief knew about her relationship with Dougherty.
Dillinger leaned back in his chair. “Take some time off.”
“I’m okay,” she quickly countered.
“That’s not a request.”