Deadly Aim (28 page)

“I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“I thought I was a suspect. Joe said everyone thinks I killed Dixon.”

“Joe isn’t working on this case.” Callen had about had it with Joe’s interference. The guy was a first-class nuisance. “He’s out of line telling you anything.”

Angel bristled. “He wanted me to know what was going on.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Angel. Joe’s not a bad guy. He’s just scared. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He didn’t even bother coming to the staff meeting this morning, and I doubt he’s read my report. If he had, he’d know the assailant was probably a man.”

“What?” Angel placed a hand on his arm, and he felt the heat of it shoot through him. It was all he could do to stand still and not pull her into his arms and kiss her until the room swayed.

He cleared his throat. “I’m waiting for the official word from the medical examiner, but the angle of the wound indicates that Dixon was probably sliced by a man about his own height or taller.”

Angel had needed some good news, and it pleased him to be able to give it to her. Seeing the change in her expression made him even more determined to find out who was responsible for the killings.

His exonerating words sank into her bones, making her weak with relief. She seriously thought of throwing herself into his arms and kissing him. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself and sank into the empty armchair. “Why didn’t Joe tell me that?”

“Like I said, he probably hadn’t read my report. He’s too concerned about what people think. You don’t deserve that kind of treatment, Angel.”

“Thank you.”

He hunkered down in front of her. “How are you holding up? With the shooting and now this?”

Angel almost reached out to draw her hand down his face and trace the scar that rested along his jaw.
Not a good idea, Angel
. “I’m okay. I took your advice and decided to keep seeing the counselor.”

The warmth of his smile reached his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He was too close and too nice and all she had to do was lean forward just a few inches and their lips would meet. For one brief
instant she imagined them kissing. Her heart quickened, and she could hardly breathe. She straightened at the same time he stood up.

“I’d better be getting back to work.” He sounded almost as breathless as she was.

Good idea
. She pushed herself out of the chair and walked him to the door. He paused briefly in the hallway, gracing her with a smile that nearly melted her insides. She bit her lower lip. Callen Riley scared her, but at the same time she felt as though some sort of invisible magnet was pulling them together. She ducked back inside before she acted on her emotions.

Hurrying to the bathroom, she showered the night’s grogginess away and got dressed in a clean top and the same jeans she’d worn the day before. She’d just finished brushing her teeth when someone knocked on the door.

“You again?” Her gaze traveled over Callen’s ruggedly handsome face and lingered on his somber eyes.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No, why?”

“Good. You can eat with me while I ask you some more questions.”

“And tell me what you’ve learned so far?” She grabbed her handbag, stepped out beside him, and closed the door.

Once they were seated and had given their orders, he leaned back, assessing her again.

She placed the paper napkin on her lap. “You were going to ask me some questions?”

Callen moved forward, arms resting on the table. “Oh, right. Are you seeing anyone?”

She frowned. “You’re the detective. I’d think you’d know all about me by now.”

“I know you hang out with an old school chum named Brandon Lafferty.” He grinned. “I also heard you turned down his marriage proposal.”

“That’s not common knowledge.”

He shrugged, apparently not willing to reveal his sources. Not that he had to. Callen would have been interviewing a lot of people about her; he must have talked to Brandon.

Angel didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Actually, she did, but it screwed up her insides. In an almost desperate attempt to change the subject, she asked, “Have you questioned Ray Broadman?”

Callen sipped at his coffee, set the cup down, and rubbed his chin. “Do I look as bad as I feel?”

“You look like you’ve pulled an all-nighter, but I guess that’s the look girls like these days—guys who are a little rough around the edges.”

“How about you—what sort of guy do you like?”

Guys like you
. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

His crooked smile indicated he’d read her thoughts. “Yes. I talked to Broadman. The guy’s a piece of work.”

“So was I right? Was he with Dixon last night?”

“He was.”

“And?”

“You could watch the news tonight.”

“I’d rather not wait.” Angel clasped her hands. She didn’t appreciate the way he switched topics and kept her on edge.

“He’s afraid you’ll come after him next. You and your henchmen.”

“Henchmen?” Angel almost choked on her coffee.

“That’s the word he used. He told me that he and Dixon were talking strategy. They’d had dinner and drinks, and he left around 10:30. They were concerned about pushing ahead on the civil suit they were filing against you and were worried about repercussions from you. He said he was afraid something like this would happen. He’s worried you’ll come after him next.”

“He’s afraid of me? If this wasn’t so scary, it would be funny.”

“It isn’t just you he’s afraid of, Angel. It’s that white supremacist group you’re so buddy-buddy with.”

Angel groaned. “You can’t be serious. He actually said that?”

“He did.” The corner of Callen’s mouth twitched slightly. Apparently he wasn’t taking the comments too seriously.

Their breakfasts came. Angel busied herself with smashing her eggs into her hash browns and sprinkling on salt and pepper. “Broadman is covering his bases, isn’t he?” She set her fork down without taking a bite.

“I don’t trust him.” Callen spoke between bites. “He’s an opportunist, but I doubt he killed Dixon. The reverend was helping Billy’s family raise money for legal expenses.”

Angel pushed her plate to the side. With the way her stomach was feeling at the moment, eating eggs would not be a good idea.

“I hate to break it to you, Angel, but Broadman had no reason to want Dixon dead.” He paused to take a drink of coffee, then leveled his green gaze on her.

“Joe seems to think I have motive. Do you think so too?”

“What I
think
doesn’t matter. Truth is, I can’t rule anyone out at this point. The crime lab hasn’t sorted through all the evidence yet.”

Angel felt herself pale under his scrutiny. She had seriously underestimated Callen Riley. He wasn’t only someone to be reckoned with, he was just plain dangerous. She twisted the napkin still lying on her lap. How far would the authorities go to find the real killer? Maybe not far enough. She made a good scapegoat and was getting a reputation for being a renegade cop with an attitude, one whose courage was being touted by white supremacists. As if she didn’t have enough trouble already with the shooting incident.

Callen was under the same pressure as Joe to settle things quickly. The detective had encouraged her, said he believed her—but could she trust him?

C
allen set down his coffee. “Angel, relax.” His gaze softened as he spoke. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, and I have no doubt your name will be cleared on all fronts.”

Angel wished she could believe him.

She turned when she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Look who’s here!” Tim patted her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Morning, Angel.” Rachael scooted into the seat next to her. “I thought you might need me.” Glancing at Callen she added, “You haven’t been telling this guy anything that might be incriminating, have you?” She grinned at him, dimples sinking deeper than usual.

“I take it you two know each other,” Angel said, trying to ignore a twinge of jealousy.

“Unfortunately,” they answered in unison.

Rachael laughed again. “Tim, this is Callen Riley with the Oregon State Police. Tim is Angel’s brother.”

The two men shook hands. Tim settled into one of the empty chairs.

“Callen and I met a few months ago in court,” Rachael said. “So, Riley, what brings you to Sunset Cove?”

“I just moved here.”

“Really?” Rachael beamed at him.

“Yep.”

“Hmm.” Rachael nodded. “And did you sell your house in Portland?”

Callen went quiet, and Angel thought she saw a flash of pain in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Rachael pinched her lips together. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No—I’m being overly sensitive.” Looking at Angel and then Tim, he said, “My wife died a couple years ago, and selling the house has been hard.”

“I’m sorry.” Angel could almost feel the depth of his grief. More than anything she wanted to offer comfort, but didn’t.

“Yeah.” His lips formed a thin line. “Me too.”

Rachael must have felt their discomfort; she changed the subject. “Are they keeping you busy down here?” she asked.

“Are you kidding? Besides all the stuff going on in Sunset Cove, I’ve been working the Kelsey case.”

Angel stared at him. “I didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Angel.”

She almost expected him to say something about remedying that, but he didn’t.

Peter and Paul came in then and pulled up chairs. Before sitting down, Paul asked, “Anyone want anything?”

“Yeah,” Angel said. “A ticket to South America.”

“I could probably arrange that.” Paul glanced at Callen and added, “But under the circumstances, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Callen chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know. If you left the country, Angel, I’d just have to follow you.” His grin told her he wouldn’t mind that at all.

Paul caught a waitress who took the newcomers’ orders and brought coffees.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked. “Have you all decided to do an intervention and put me out of my misery?”

Peter chuckled. “In a sense. We decided you needed some support. We’re here to do that.”

“We know you’re innocent,” Tim said. “According to the autopsy report, Dixon was probably cut by someone as tall as he was, and because of the pressure and depth of the cut, they figure it was a guy.”

“So I heard.” Callen had said the same thing earlier.

Callen sighed. “And you have access to the autopsy report because...?”

“Friends.” Tim grinned. “Don’t worry, we won’t say anything outside this group.”

“It’s a small town,” Rachael reminded him. “Almost impossible to keep a secret.”

Callen shook his head.

“I don’t know.” Rachael picked up her coffee and took a sip. “The DA might argue that Angel could’ve dropped the guy then cut his throat.”

“Gee, thanks. I thought you were on my side.” Angel set her lukewarm coffee aside.

“I am. Just being practical.” Rachael turned to look at her. “You’re a police officer and you’re in great shape. I bet you’ve taken down more than one guy.”

Angel shrugged, her gaze darting to Callen’s again. He was looking at something outside, obviously deep in thought. He glanced at his watch and shoved his chair back. “Much as I’d like to stay and chat, I have a commitment in Portland this afternoon.”

Angel watched him go, not quite sure what to think. Her reverie was interrupted a moment later when the waitress came and set the new orders on the table.

“What’s wrong, Angel?” Rachael slathered Marionberry jam on her toast.

“Nothing, it’s just that I don’t know how to read that guy.”

“Callen?” Rachael tipped her head. “Why?”

“He says he thinks I’m innocent, then he says he can’t rule out anyone. He confuses me.”

“You haven’t said anything that might be incriminating, have you?”

“I don’t think so.”

Rachael took hold of Angel’s arm. “There is something you should know about Callen.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I’m not saying he isn’t a nice guy, but you need to watch what you say around him. He can be very charming, and he’s good at getting people to talk to him, which makes him a very good cop.”

“Did you ever go out with him?” Angel drew a circle in the condensation on the side of her glass.

“No, we’re just friends.” Rachael took another sip of coffee. “He’s still grieving over his wife. He told me he wasn’t interested in getting involved with anyone.” She chewed on her lip for a moment. “I talked to the medical examiner this morning about Billy’s autopsy.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I told him what you’d said about firing only one of the shots. And I asked him about the possibility of a second shooter.”

Angel leaned forward. “And...?”

“He agreed that might be possible because of the trajectory of the bullets. One shot went into Billy’s right shoulder.” She held her arm up and crooked her elbow, making a gun out of her thumb and forefinger. “And it came from this angle.” She pointed down.