Half Past Dead (10 page)

How could some folks be so kind and others so selfish? Forget about Tori. Forget about your mother. There's nothing you can do to change them. Nothing.

She'd told David she was innocent, and he'd believed her without even questioning her. One day the truth would come out, but there might be something she could do to make it happen sooner. David was teaching her to be an investigative reporter. She planned to work on her own case.

Someone in the bank took the money or knew who did. Cloris Howard was still president of the bank. Kat had seen her name in one of the articles in the
Trib.
Elmer Bitner was probably still the VP. There had been three other tellers present the day the money disappeared. They might have left for better-paying jobs. Someone had put the money in her purse and taken off with the rest.

At least that's what she'd always thought. Now, though, being used in a sting made her believe something else entirely might have happened. Why else would the authorities think she would be contacted? So far there'd been nothing. But she hadn't been home long. It would take a little time before everyone in town heard she had returned.

A knock at her door startled Kat. She peeped through the frayed curtains on the door's small window and saw Justin standing there, Redd at his side. The yellow bug light gave his dark hair a warm glow. He flashed her an irreverent grin that showed his white teeth and accentuated his heart-stopping good looks.

“Open up. It's hot out here.”

She turned the knob and the door creaked open. “What do you want?”

He barged in. “Just checking on you.” He looked around. “The state didn't provide much, did they?”

She bent over and petted Redd. “No, but it's better than a prison cell.”

His smoky blue-gray eyes roved over her body. She'd changed into a lavender T-shirt and white shorts that hung low on her hips, revealing her midriff. The way he was looking at her made her feel as if she was standing here in her undies. His expression was so galvanizing a tremor went through her.

“Did you get the article written?” he asked.

“Yes. David wrote it, but he insisted on putting my name on the byline. You'll see it front and center in tomorrow's paper. He made you sound brilliant for getting the results so quickly.”

“It wasn't any big deal.”

She reminded him, “You have enemies, and you'll have to run for sheriff next year.”

“I drove out to the Shady Hook area. I didn't find anything but fishing shacks. I'm going to try again tomorrow. Any chance you can find out from Maria the name of the guy who worked with this Romero woman?”

“Sure. I'll ask her first thing in the morning. She comes to the shop early to set up.”

He studied her a minute with an unreadable expression. “Your sister came to see me this morning.”

She stopped petting Redd, her apprehension mounting. “What did she want?”

“For me to get rid of you.”

Kat wasn't surprised. Tori had no trouble wrapping men around her little finger. Justin Radner wouldn't be immune to her charms.

“I didn't tell her that you could be sent back for any minor offense.”

“What did you say?”

He sat down on her sofa and patted the space next to him. “Nothing.”

“Thanks.” Kat sat beside him and began stroking Redd again. She was totally aware of Justin's nearness. His polo shirt outlined the hard planes of his powerful chest and impressive biceps. She allowed her eyes to stray lower for a second. He had powerful thighs and between them—she didn't want to think about the masculine bulge behind his fly.

He crossed his long legs, and she saw he was wearing an ankle holster with a pistol in it. He might not wear a uniform or drive a patrol car, but he was armed.

“I don't much like your sister. She's conniving. Watch your back around her.”

It touched her that he seemed concerned. He'd come on like a Nazi when they'd first met, but evidently her work today had changed his negative opinion of her a little.

“Tori came to see me this afternoon and offered me money to leave town.”

He arched one eyebrow, a gesture she found very boyish. And adorable. “You refused.”

“I'm not leaving. One day I'll be able to clear my name.”

His eyes became sharper, more focused. “I tried to look up your case, but the file was missing.”

“Really?” Kat tried to sound surprised. She was pretty sure the authorities had lifted the file as part of the ongoing investigation. If they hadn't, the person they had working here undercover might have taken it.

He looked at her with the most intense gaze she'd ever encountered. She could almost hear the click, click, click of his brain. He probably suspected she knew more than she was telling. He was suspicious of her already, and this wasn't helping.

“Watch out for Tori,” he said, rising. “She won't give up easily.”

She walked him to the door and reached for the knob. He caught her wrist and gently pulled her toward him. Her breath came out in a startled gasp. He released her wrist and took her face in his big hands. Sheer surprise caused her to stiffen for a moment, then heat shot from where he touched her and every single nerve in her body went on alert.

What was he doing?

His lips came down on hers, warm and as gentle as a spring breeze. He couldn't possibly be kissing her—but he was. His moist, firm mouth demanded a response. Instinctively, her body arched toward his. She couldn't help reveling in the sweet sensations assailing her body.

His lips parted just a little and she could taste mint on his breath. She managed to keep herself from nudging her tongue between her lips to greet his. He nibbled at her lower lip, then sucked it into the heat of his mouth. It was a simple, almost playful gesture, but her toes curled in response and moisture invaded the lower reaches of her body.

Surely, he had to be experiencing the same mind-blowing explosion of passion. If so, he wasn't doing anything to indicate it, cautioned the one cell in her brain that was still rational. He's too experienced, she warned herself. This was just another kiss to him. He had to be toying with her.

Even knowing this, she couldn't stop her arms from sliding upward a scant inch at a time. Finally, one arm hooked around his neck and explored the soft hair at the base of his skull while the other arm circled his shoulders. Their bodies were one now. Every well-defined muscle and powerful bone pressed against her. Mounded to the firm wall of his chest, her breasts felt tight and warm and ached for his touch.

Her heartbeat skyrocketed as his tongue leisurely edged between her lips and brushed against hers. The kiss assumed a life of its own, and she responded with reckless abandon.

He unexpectedly released her, and she dropped her arms. Why had he stopped? Scorching heat flooded her cheeks. Her whole body was quivering with desire. She felt weak and confused. Was she pathetic or what?

Smoldering heat fired his eyes as they met hers, but his voice was cool. “Stay out of trouble.” He opened the door and Redd trotted out ahead of him. “Check with me tomorrow afternoon and I'll let you know what the search found.” He handed her a business card. “Here's my cell number, in case you find out the man's name.”

He left and she collapsed onto the sofa, clutching the card. Justin Radner had kissed her! Why? Surely, he had a girlfriend. Several, probably. Why was he jerking her chain?

The last time she'd been kissed was during a brief, disastrous affair she'd had while working at the bank. She put her fingers to her moist lips. This had been much more erotic—from the last man she should be involved with. She reminded herself Justin could send her back to prison. She should distance herself. But she knew she couldn't.

H
E WAS WALKING
down the street, enjoying his morning, when the
Trib'
s headline jumped out at him from a rack of newspapers. He stopped abruptly and stared in utter disbelief. DEADLY POISON KILLED WOMAN. He rarely read the newspaper—it was always old news. He watched television news instead.

He dropped fifty cents in the slot, lifted the lid, and grabbed a paper. He scanned the article. “Shit.”

Justin Radner had managed to discover he'd used fluoroacetate to kill the bitch. He'd known the smart-ass sheriff had sent the body to New Orleans, but the poison was supposed to be nearly impossible to trace. All it took to kill was a drop the size of a baby's tear.

He read on and saw the sheriff was requesting people report anyone they'd seen mixing chemicals. Radner could ask people to snitch all he wanted. No one—not even his partners—knew about the deadly poison or where he'd concocted it. He'd made just enough, then destroyed all the equipment. He had a small vial of the lethal stuff stashed where no one would find it. Who knew? He might need it again.

He slowly reread the article. By Kaitlin Wells,
Tribune
staff reporter. He cursed under his breath. Fuckin'A! What was Kat Wells—an ex-con—doing writing front-page articles? She must have been trained in the slammer. A waste of taxpayer dollars. He'd have to keep his eye on her. He might be dealing with another nosy bitch, he thought, crumpling the newsprint in his fists. He saw red for a moment, but reined himself in.

Be calm, controlled. He could handle this. He pitched the paper into the trash can at the corner. So what if they knew about the poison? They didn't know who the bitch was or where she worked. Radner was spinning his wheels.

 

T
HE CELL PHONE
in Justin's jeans pocket vibrated, and he pulled it out. “Radner.”

“I have the name of the man who worked with Pequita Romero.” It was Kat. “Tony Mendoza is working at the riverboat now.”

“Great. I'll go talk to him.”

“Justin, listen. Do
not
mention Maria's name. She's terrified of this man.”

Justin gazed up through the canopy of trees between Shady Hook Road and the river where he and a deputy were searching for the meth lab along the levee roads and cane breaks. Dense pines hung low and heavy with oozing tar. It was barely nine o'clock, but the sun was burning white-hot, blistering the blue out of the sky barely visible between the treetops.

“Why is Maria frightened?”

“My Spanish isn't so good that I get every detail. From what I gather, the Hispanics are a pretty close-knit group. She doesn't want to upset them or cause trouble.”

Justin understood. It was risky for them not to stick together. They got each other jobs and shared housing. Ratting on someone would mean big-time trouble. He was surprised Maria had done it, putting herself at risk needlessly. Maybe she wanted to curry favor in case she ran into trouble with the law.

“Not a problem. I won't mention Maria's name. I—”

“Sheriff, looky here,” called his deputy from up ahead in a thicket of bushes.

“Gotta go. We may have found something.”

“You promised to let me know what's happening—”

Justin clicked the cell phone shut and headed toward the spot where his deputy had disappeared into the underbrush beneath “blackjack”—scrub oak. Redd trotted along beside him. Justin could no longer deny the truth. He wasn't just attracted to Kat. He wanted her with a need so fierce it overwhelmed common sense. He shouldn't have gone to see her last night, and he certainly had no business kissing her.

But she'd felt so good. He recalled the texture of her skin. Invitingly soft and smooth. Lips a glossy peach color. Begging to be kissed.

It had taken all his willpower to pull away. He'd locked his jaw and ground his teeth to regain his self-control as she'd gazed up at him. Wanting him to keep kissing her.

Honest to God, what was he doing? Thinking with his pecker. He had to remember this woman was nothing but trouble. A convict. She would be heading back to prison in no time. Don't get involved with her.

 

“L
OOK
, T
ONY
. I'm not going to bust you if you tell me the truth.” Justin spoke slowly. Tony Mendoza knew English fairly well, but from Justin's experience overseas, when people spoke a foreign language rapidly, it became difficult to comprehend what they were saying.

“Dunno nothin'.”

They were standing on the stern of the paddle wheeler. It was nearly two-thirty in the afternoon. In another few hours, the
Lucky Seven
would cast off and troll along the river so customers could gamble. Justin cuffed the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand and decided to get tough.

Mendoza was short with a wiry build. He had a slightly dazed look like someone who'd just dodged a bullet and still expected to be shot. Justin tried to read Mendoza and wondered what his silence meant. He'd checked with management. Mendoza had his green card so the busboy couldn't be worried about being deported.

“Several people told me you worked with Pequita Romero.”

Tony's dark eyes darted from side to side as he shook his head.

“We raided a shack out by Shady Hook Road. An abandoned meth lab.” He grabbed Tony's hand. “Your fingerprints are going to be all over that place, aren't they?”

Tony sucked in a harsh breath. Justin could see he'd intimidated Mendoza but the man still wasn't talking.

“Unless I get the truth, I'm taking you to the station to fingerprint you. Know how many years you'll get for making meth?” Justin was betting Tony didn't know that it was almost impossible to prosecute anyone for making meth unless you caught them in the act.

“In prison, Tony, you'll meet up with the boys from the Aryan Nation.”

The color drained from Tony's tan face. If Tony had been facing prison in Texas or California, he'd have the Mexican gangs to protect him. But there weren't enough Hispanics in the Mississippi system to help him. At the rate things were going, that would change, but for now, Tony was terrified of being in jail with the skinheads.

“This is the last time I'm going to ask you. Did you know Pequita Romero?”

He hesitated, then out came a tight, “Yes.”

“Did you work with her out by the river?”

“Yes.”

When you got right down to it, this guy was just dying to help. Justin tried another tack. “I'm not going to do anything about the meth lab. It's clear it's no longer in use. What I'm interested in is what happened to Pequita. When did you last see her?”

Tony strangled out the answer. “A-a-ah…two month.”

“She disappeared and they shut down the lab, right?”

“Si, si.”

Justin thought he detected a look of sadness in Tony's eyes. The illegals endured a hard life, far from home and family. He wondered if the guy had been involved with Pequita. Probably. Her death must have hurt him, but Justin knew Tony would be afraid to tell him any more.

 

D
AVID
N
OYES LOOKED THROUGH
the glass partition surrounding his office and saw Justin Radner walking into the building. He hoped Justin didn't have important information to give them. Connie would have a fit. It was nearly five o'clock, and the presses were churning out tomorrow's edition.

David waved for Justin to come into the office. Unlike the other times when David had seen Justin in khakis and polo shirts, today he was wearing dusty jeans and a blue chambray shirt with smudges of dirt or grease on it. At his heels was a skinny cinnamon-colored dog with a shaved coat.

“Where's Kat?” Justin asked. “I could use her help.”

“She went to interview Mayor Peebles and Filpo Johnson to see what they think about the poisoning.” David didn't add that they intended to put a positive spin on Justin's decision to send the body out-of-state. “She should be here in a minute. Have a seat.”

Justin sank into the chair opposite David's desk, and the dog curled up at his feet. David wondered if he should get a dog. Twin Oaks was pretty laid-back. He could bring a pet to work like Justin. At night, David wouldn't be the only one kicking around an old house. He didn't even have a plant. He thought about the absolute, total silence in the home he'd bought. It was broken only by the creaking of the stairs when he walked up them. The omnipresent ache of loneliness had edged closer to the surface now that he was living in Twin Oaks.

“Let's talk off the record,” Justin said, taking him by surprise.

“Okay. What's up?”

“All the documents on Kat's arrest are missing from our files.”

“Interesting. What do you suppose happened to them?”

“Damned if I know.” Justin shook his head. “Since bank robbery is a federal crime, copies of the investigation records were sent to Jackson.”

“You called the capital.”

“Yeah. The file is sealed.”

“Sealed?” The only times David had encountered sealed files the cases had involved witness protection or an ongoing investigation.

“I gather there's some aspect of the case still under investigation,” Justin told him. “Do you have copies of the stories the
Trib
ran about the robbery?”

David chuckled. “Great minds think alike.” He slid open the bottom drawer in his desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “I took these from the morgue—that's our file of previous papers—yesterday. We run two copies of each edition on acid-free paper so it doesn't yellow over time.”

“Why did you pull them?”

“Kat told me she was innocent.”

Justin's expression was openly skeptical. “You believed her?”

“The way she said it, the look on her face. My gut said she was telling the truth.”

Justin nodded slowly. It was hard to judge what he was thinking, but David had already picked up on the sheriff's interest in Kat. Who could blame him? Hell, if he were thirty years younger…well, he wasn't.

“She's a con. You know what that means. Most of them are sent back to prison.”

“But not all of them. Some make it. Why don't you take these and read them?” David asked, handing him the issues that covered Kat's case. “I have another set.”

“Good idea.”

“Let me put them in a folder.” David opened a drawer and pulled out an accordion folder.

“What did you think when you read the articles?”

“A rush to judgment,” David replied as he slipped the papers into the file and handed it to Justin. “It would have been helpful to read the reporter's notes, but the man's long gone. I've tried e-mailing him. He's no longer on AOL.”

“Why do you want to read his notes?”

“Often reporters write down rumors or things they can't verify. That information doesn't make it into print.”

“I get the idea.”

“What about the deputies? Did any of them help with the investigation?”

“I've asked, but they said Sheriff Parker handled everything himself.”

David frowned. “That in and of itself is suspicious. I knew the sheriff. He was a fat, lazy blowhard. I can't see him doing all the work.”

Justin nodding, thinking he would need to investigate this. Maybe Nora knew something. She was sharp and had been around for a long time. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure no one else was nearby. He pulled the tape of his conversation with Judge Kincaid out of his pocket.

“Do you have a safe?” he asked David.

“There's a safe over in that closet.”

“Would you store this tape for me? If anything happens to me, play it.”

David took the tape and walked over to the closet. Inside was a big old-fashioned safe. “Are you expecting trouble?”

“It's a possibility. When I was on the force in New Orleans, I killed a man during a drug raid. Lucas Albright's in jail, but he swore he would get me.”

“Is this tape about that case?”

Justin gave David credit. The guy was sharp. “No, Judge Kincaid and Buck Mason hate me. That's what's on the tape.”

David nodded. “Kat told me the story. It seems ridiculous that they blame you for Verity Mason's death.”

“She killed herself months after we broke up, but Buck contends it was because she was still in love with me.”

“She sounds a little…unbalanced.”

“I suppose she was. I was too young to notice. I just thought she was too clingy, too needy. Buck spoiled her. He gave her everything she wanted. She had trouble accepting our relationship was over.”

 

J
USTIN HAD FINISHED READING
most of the articles on Kat's arrest when she returned to the
Trib.
He quickly stashed the papers in the folder. He was sitting in David's office as she sailed in. A vaguely sensuous current passed between them.

Her sassy hairstyle had gone limp, a victim of humidity. Nevertheless she was still incredibly appealing. He held back, steeling himself against his almost primal reaction to her.

“Your information paid off,” he told her, and David motioned for her to take the chair beside Justin. “Tony Mendoza did work with Pequita Romero.”

Her lips edged into a rare—genuine—smile. “At a meth lab?”

“It was more like a meth shack. A lean-to with a propane stove. They'd abandoned it, but the shack was still rank with ether fumes. The smell gets into the wood and the heat and humidity bring it out.”

“Did Tony say who was running the operation?” she asked.

“He claims he never met the ringleader. An acquaintance in Natchez told him about the job. The supplies were left for them. Their pay was there every Friday when they came to work.”

“Do you buy that?” Kat asked, and Justin noted David's approving smile.