“He trusts you and we both know you're innocent. Johnson can't help himself. He's a dip shit.” Matt's response made me jump because I didn't hear him return. Gotta get my ears checked.
Dirk snorted.
Matt threw his hands up, palm outward. “What, you got a problem with that, partner?”
Cop Sexy A-hole ran his hand through his hair again. Maybe he did that regular scalp massage to keep his mop head healthy. Could be it had nothing to do with frustration. Then again, probably not.
He sighed. “Yes, Katie, I think you're innocent. I believe you and have from the first. We've got to check out everyone's alibis and stories. You just happen to have a well-connected enemy.” He placed his index finger against his lips. “Are you sure you don't know our boss?”
“I appreciate you two stopping by, but I'm on deadline here. Ask me your questions or tell me what you came here to say, then you'll have to leave.”
Matt rubbed his lips and I knew he wiped off a smile. I could see the corners of his mouth tilted up. My lips twitched in sympathetic response. “Johnson, ask her already.”
My breath halted in my chest. Ask me what?
“Do you know where Rob Howe has been?”
Disappointment made my voice curt. “No, you'll have to ask him.”
“We will, but we were hoping you could give us some facts to check his story against.”
That was such bull. They were on the way here before Ginger called. Overhearing my conversation with her was pure accident. I narrowed my eyes at Dirk, and once again, he read my thoughts perfectly. Maybe my small growl helped his interpretation.
“Christ. All right all ready. I came to apologize and to see how you're doing, okay?” He gave Matt's shoulder a light punch. “Did I say it good enough for you?”
Matt laughed. “You should ask Katie, not me.”
I had my arms crossed and a stern look on my face.
“Katie, I wanted to ask, well, I hoped that you...” His words stumbled dead. He took a deep breath. “I just need to know you're doing okay, that's all.”
Matt shook his head. “My partner is a wimp. How did I get so lucky?”
Dirk ran his hand through his hair once more then pushed past Matt. The door swung shut behind him.
I looked to Matt. “What the heck was that about?”
His mouth dropped open. “I can't believe you don't know.” He shut his mouth and his gaze searched mine. “You two are a mess.”
He walked out before I could process Matt’s parting shot.
****
“Katie. I found another blackmail note. It was in an envelope on the front stoop.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Minutes later I held irrefutable proof. Ginger had gotten another BM note. It appeared the same as the others, with cut out words from magazines and newspapers. Maybe we should have alerted the recycle crew to look for mutilated magazines in the neighborhood bins. Not that this creep recycled. He didn't seem the responsible type.
My attention returned to the note.
Last chance. Leave money at Kannapolis train station’s lost and found for Jim Jones at 10:15 tonight. No cops. Mess up and your husband and friend die.
Holy Crap. “Ginger, did you tell Rob what I said in the cemetery? Her confused look was my answer. “You know, about having to traipse through the dark instead of leaving the bag at the train station?”
“No. We haven’t talked about the blackmail. I hoped to keep it from him, remember? Although why I bothered is beyond me now.”
“Maybe the BM heard me bitching and decided to steal the idea.” That bit of reasoning didn’t settle my stomach. “We’d better get the money case from wherever you stashed it and prepare for the drop off.”
“I can’t.”
My stomach tied itself into knots. The conversation wasn't headed in a direction I wanted to follow. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“The police have the money.”
My head spun. “What? They what?”
“Evidence.” She gulped. “Dirk said he was keeping the bag as evidence because a crime was committed.”
Now in addition to a macramé stomach and spinning head, I had a tight jaw. Dirk had pulled more of his “gotta keep the little women safe” crap. “We didn’t commit a crime. Well, except for trespassing on private property. And destroying some of the flower arrangements, but I went back and paid for those the next day.”
“He tacked on cemetery desecration.”
“Oh, that’s such baloney.” My foot tapped a jig but I didn’t feel like dancing.
“Sandwich meat or not, they kept the bag.”
“I hope you got a receipt for it. I’ve heard too many stories about stuff disappearing from locked evidence rooms.” Crap. Now we’d have to tell Dirk and Matt about the note.
“What’s that you’re mumbling, Katie?”
“We’ll have to go to the police.”
She leveled a look that made me hunch my shoulders. “Pardon me? You were the one insisting we tell them as soon as a note came. What’re you thinking?” Now Ginger parroted Dirk’s refrain.
I inhaled the biggest breath I could pull into my lungs. “I really don’t want to say this to you.”
Ginger waited patiently and I couldn’t see a way to avoid relating my dark thoughts. “I thought, in case the BM is someone you know, you may want to deliver the money yourself.”
Her flat response fired back. “It’s not Rob.”
My dry throat didn't loosen after attempting some swallows. “We don’t know that.”
Ginger caught my hands “It’s not Rob. He’s a screw-up and lately he’s been a total jerk, but he’s not a murderer. Whoever was in the cemetery at the last drop wanted to kill us. That’s not Rob.”
I could feel the truth loosen my stomach muscles. “You’re right.”
“Whoever shot at us is a cold person, calculating. Maybe angry.”
I raised my hand. “I vote for Flash.”
Ginger smiled. “You aren’t giving up on that line, are you?”
“Nope.” I moved to envelope Ginger in a hug. “I’ll let you call Dirk.”
She stepped away from me but her gaze imitated an x-ray. “What did you do now?” She planted her palms against her hips. “Katie Sheridan. Don’t you dare tell me you let Cop Sexy get away.”
“Okay, I won’t.”
Ginger wanted to jump on my response like a hot-streak batter on a fastball pitch, but I found salvation. Rob walked in just as she wound up for the strike. My friend slid the blackmail note behind her back and into her waistband.
He looked like crap and that was a generous assessment. “Hi, girls. What’s up?”
Ginger’s pleading look got me talking too fast. “I stayed with Ginger because my house got messed up so I came to get my clothes because I won’t be staying now that you’re home not that I don’t like you but my kitchen is clean so thanks and gotta run.” I turned and hurried for the guest room.
Even though I brought enough for a week, most of my clothes were tees and jeans. I had only two bags to fill, and the packing didn't take long. I crept into the kitchen and saw Rob leaving. She pulled the note from her waistband and shoved it at me.
“You’ll have to give this to Dirk.”
I pushed it back toward her. “It’s your note. You do it.”
Chicken squawks were her answer.
“Talk about chicken...what about Rob?”
“I’ve decided it’s time to have it out with him. That’s my priority. The police will handle the money drop off tonight. It doesn’t matter who delivers the note to them.” She clucked and flapped her arms.
“Call Matt if you’re determined to avoid Dirk.” She turned away then swung back. “You’ve got to trust a man, soon. He’s a good guy, Katie.”
Crap. I never thought Ginger would literally turn on me, but she was right. I could call Matt and report the note. It was four o'clock, past time to get on it. They’d need enough notice to set up their operation.
I searched my purse but couldn’t find Matt’s card. Dirk’s was there, but I didn’t need to look at the number. I had it memorized. How’s that for juvenile?
He picked up on the second ring. “Detective Johnson.”
His deep voice stopped my breath, but it started again after a two seconds. Good thing. Blue face isn’t the best look for me. “It’s me. Ginger got another note.” My voice shook as I read it to him.
“You okay?”
I forced a smile so my voice sounded perky. “Sure. Just great.” No way would he know my shakes came from talking to him, not because of the note. “I’ll let you go. The BM isn’t giving you much time. You’ll have to get your team together.”
“Katie, I...um.” He fell silent and I moved to hang up when he sighed. “I care about you, uh, your safety. And I’ll need to see the note.”
My throat tightened. “Sure, Dirk.”
“And keep the damn doors locked. Your car and your house.”
“I’m not six years old.”
He didn’t answer right away and my blood heated toward boil. When it came, his low voiced reply hit my solar plexus. “It’s a good thing you’re not six. Yep, a really good thing.” He paused. His voice lowered to a whisper. “You know that little black number you wore the other night?”
A shiver hit the back of my neck. I’d say. My body clearly remembered the scrape of his teeth as he removed it. I wiggled in my chair and held the receiver closer to my ear.
His regular voice hit my ear. I jumped. “Yes, sir. Another note arrived this afternoon. I’m arranging to pick it up right now.”
Whoa. Dirk’s official voice talking to his superior crashed my sexual haze. Our game playing wasn't appropriate, not even if he used my own sexuality against me to keep me safe. I wasn’t sure our budding relationship was more than a game to Dirk. He had some serious memories cramping him. Well, so did I.
He finished his other conversation. “Now where were we?”
“Dirk, I have to run an errand in your direction. I can drop the note off with the Desk Sergeant.”
His voice dropped to a murmur. Obviously his boss had gone but someone else was near. “If I pick up the note, I get to see you.”
Instead of inflaming me, now his sexy whisper pissed me off. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Ginger doesn’t need the cops coming to her house again. If the BM is watching, it’ll look like she’s called you in.”
“Come on, Katie. Give me a break. I can be discreet.”
“I’ll bring the note to you. It’ll take me about half an hour.” It’d be there in half the time because no way did I want to see Dirk lounging casually at the front desk. “We can talk after the case is closed.”
I hung up. Crap. So much for trust.
Chapter Seventeen
Avoiding Dirk was easy. Concentrating when I knew what would go down later that evening wasn't. After dropping off the note, I headed for the Get Solid trailer. I felt some trepidation about going in, but my desk was clear when I arrived. Jim probably didn't want to hear my screeching, not that he graced the trailer with his presence.
I settled down and checked the notes piled neatly on my desk. Cam had been there. I recognized his organizational style. After making a note to send him an engagement gift—a twelve pack of his favorite micro-brewery beers—I got down to it.
Supervisors greeted me as they returned from their jobs. Phew. I’d been able to hide from my problems for a few hours.
Everyone left and my stomach growled. I reached Dora’s Café in record time. I ordered, sipped my water and waited for supper. Dora set my cheeseburger platter down.
“Dora, you make a cheeseburger platter like no one else in the world. Yum.”
“You ain’t tasted it yet.”
“Anticipation based on past history. Got any ketchup? This bottle’s empty.”
Allen nabbed the stool next to mine. “Speaking of anticipation, when are you and Dirk going to get together? I could use some new shoes.” He clamped his mouth shut and looked away.
“You’ve got a pool going? On when Dirk and I will get together?”
Dora arrived with the ketchup. “Honey, they ain’t the only ones.”
My mouth felt wired shut but I managed to speak. “You’re losers. Both of you. All of the people in the pool. What’s wrong with this town that your only entertainment is whether and when I get laid?”
Dora and Allen exchanged looks. Dora pursed her mouth. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Allen drawled his answer. “Yep. Sounds like a done deed to me.”
Dora leaned against her counter. “Guess you’ll need to change the bet.”
Allen played with a napkin. “How about the date they go public?”
“What kinda odds you givin’?”
Allen gave me a long look. I could feel my face heat under his regard. “Hey, you two I’m sitting right here.”
Dora pushed the ketchup bottle to me. I squeezed and a quarter bottle of condiment hit my burger. I kept my head down and used my knife to scrape the excess ketchup to the side. The stuff came out so fast Dora couldn’t be using a name brand, no matter what the bottle label claimed. “Forget the pool. We’re not a couple.”
Allen chuckled. “I’d say the odds just changed.”
“A lot you know.” I kept my head down and shoveled in fries so I couldn’t say more.
Dora tipped her head to the side. I could feel her stare.
Allen tapped his fingers against the counter. “I could still use a new pair of shoes.”
They both eyed me.
Dora turned to the register and rummaged for paper and pen. She scribbled something and pulled a crumpled fiver out of her pocket. The café owner handed both to Allen. “Maybe you need shoes, but my coffeepots are old.”