She's Gotta Be Mine (29 page)

The sheriff was good. Warren didn’t know how many whacks. His stomach now threatened to turn upside down. He cleared his throat. “I can’t remember about any blood. I really don’t think there was any...on me, I mean. But I went home and changed before I called...you.”

“Then the clothes should still be there. I’ll have someone pick them up.” Another neat note on the pad.

“Thank you.” What the hell else was he supposed to say under the circumstances? Suddenly, a ray of hope bloomed. Cookie hadn’t had blood on her. Maybe she’d told him at least the partial truth. Maybe she really was just a victim of circumstance and bad judgment. If only she hadn’t picked up that shovel...

“What shoes were you wearing?”

“Shoes?”

“We need to match prints at the scene.”

Christ. Another thing he hadn’t thought of. What if Cookie’s prints were visible? What had she been wearing? He should have wiped the area clean of any footprints. “I...well, not these ones. I guess they must be with my clothes.”

The sheriff jotted. “You’re being very helpful, Mr. Spivey. Thank you. Now, about your car.”

Blood rushed to his face. What the hell else had he forgotten? He should have watched all those detective shows Roberta was so fond of.

“There was a whole mess of tire tracks out there. We’ll need to match at least one set to yours.”

He could breathe again. Cookie had parked her car on the road and walked in. Her tire tracks wouldn’t be down at the lake. “My car is at your disposal.”
His
tire tracks, they would find. “Are we done, Sheriff? I have to admit I’m a bit tired.”

He needed time to think. Right now, the only thing he was sure of was that if Cookie had murdered
Jimbo
, it was only because he, Warren, had failed to protect her.

He wouldn’t fail her again. No matter what he had to do, he’d make sure Cookie did not go to jail for her husband’s murder.

Reviewing the notes on his pad, Braxton said, “Just a few more questions.” He looked up, his gaze laser-sharp. “I’d like to go over why you were meeting
Jimbo
out at the lake again.”

Roberta had told him the Dennis Crouch thing was lame. She was right. He worked furiously on how to jazz it up, make it believable. Without truly altering it. “Well, he was angry about the fact that I might be stealing business from Dennis Crouch.” He took a deep breath, then rushed on. “And he was really angry about my treatment of my wife, too.”

The sheriff raised a brow.

“You see, he really liked Roberta. Thought she was sweet. Which she is. And he felt that I’d done her a great disservice. Which I had.” Did this sound any less lame? He didn’t have a choice now that he’d started. Too many deep breaths were making him light-headed. “And he was very angry.”

“But
Jimbo
had only known Bobbie a week.”

“Yes, well...” Well, what?
Come on, man, think. Cookie’s life is at stake
. If he didn’t come up with something good, Cookie was right, they’d start looking straight at her. “You know, I’m really getting tired. Could we continue this tomorrow?”

“Just a little more, Mr. Spivey. You’re on a roll here.”

He had that right. A roll which would lead right to Cookie if he didn’t shut up.

“Why don’t you tell me why you think
Jimbo
would call you in the middle of the night and ask you to meet him out at the lake when he could have come to your office the next morning?”

He didn’t believe him. The man did not believe him. “I can’t tell you why he called me in the middle of the night. I wasn’t in his mind.”

“Oh, wait a minute. I forgot.” The sheriff pulled a document close, flipped the pages, read. “Yep, it’s right there.” He glanced up, pinning Warren with a look. “I got it wrong, Mr. Spivey. In your statement, you said
you
called
Jimbo
.”

Shit. “I’ve had enough, Sheriff. I’ve decided you’re right. I need a lawyer. I’m not saying another thing until I get one.”

The sheriff raised his hands in surrender. “Whatever, Mr. Spivey. That’s your right. I’m sure he’ll help you get your story straight.”

He’d fucked up. Badly. First he hadn’t known the answers to stuff he should have known if he was guilty. Now he’d contradicted himself.
Cookie, forgive me, but I’ll still protect you with my life
.

He just might have to.

“One last thing, if you don’t mind. Feel free not to answer, of course.”

Warren closed his eyes and nodded.

“We found some awfully big prints out there, ten to one says they’re from a man’s shoe. Didn’t match
Jimbo
, we checked. What’s your size?” He leaned out over the desk and looked at Warren’s feet, then grunted. “Way too big to be yours.” His gaze shot to Warren’s face. “Know anyone else who could have made them?”

* * * * *

Bobbie pursued Nick to the house. “What do you mean your shovel is missing?”

She almost ran into him as he turned on the porch.. “I used a spade to bury the cat last Monday. Today that spade is gone.” He stared down at her, his eyes as hard as his chest muscles. “And
Jimbo
had his head beaten in with a shovel. So, what the hell do you think I’m saying?”

“Well, you’re certainly not saying you had anything to do with it.” She bit her lip. “Are you?”

He opened his mouth. She snapped her hand up to cover it. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I don’t think you did it.”

His eyes were chunks of black ice. He shoved her hand away. “You don’t
think
?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I
know
you didn’t do it.” But God, this was bad, really bad. If Warren took back his confession, Nick was next in line for the gas chamber. Or was it lethal injection? Whatever, dead was dead. She drew her lip between her teeth, bit down until it hurt. “But I’m wondering what
Brax
is really thinking.”

He stared at her a long time without a word. She couldn’t be sure which part of what she said was taking him so long to digest.

“So, why is your shovel missing, that’s the question.”

He quirked a brow. “
Brax
is trying to frame me?”

She huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. He thinks you’re one of the good guys, even if you two seem to be at odds.”

Nick laughed outright. “At odds? Bobbie, I figured you for an eternal optimist, and I was absolutely
effing
right.
Brax
hates my guts, and he’d love nothing better than to pin
Jimbo’s
murder on me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But he wouldn’t plant evidence to do it. He’s by the book.”

“He’s one of the good guys, too.”

His gaze skimmed her face, looking for something she wasn’t sure he found. “I hate to agree. But he’s still an asshole. Guess that leaves you.”

“Me?” She barely avoided letting her voice squeak.

“Yeah. You. Your husband. And what you’ll do to save him.”

He might as well have reached inside her chest and ripped her heart out. “I wouldn’t do anything that hurts you.”

He looked at her, eyes dark, simmering with some hot emotion. Rage. Or hope.

She’d have put her hand on his arm, except that she was afraid he’d tear it off like some savage animal. “Not even for Warren.”

He didn’t answer with words, muscle movement was enough. Some of the anger leached from his gaze. The tight jaw eased.

“So what are we going to do about the shovel?” she asked, hoping he’d hear the
we
.

“Nothing we can do since it’s already gone.” He looked down at her empty hands. “Didn’t you bring something good to eat?”

She unclenched her fists. Emergency over, at least for now. “I’ve been with Warren. I didn’t have time.” She licked her lips. “He didn’t do this, you know.”

Nick turned and banged the back door open with the flat of his hand. Moving swiftly through the kitchen, he bounded up the stairs two at a time. By the time she located him, he was standing in his closet, a bare bulb lit above his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Just wondering if there’s a pair of shoes missing, too.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, clicked the light off instead and closed the door. “Guess they’re all there.”

“You can’t tell if your shoes are missing?”

“I’ve got a big yard. With a lot of dog shit. Neighborhood dogs. I throw out a lot of shoes.”

Settling her hands on her hips, she peered at him. “Is
Brax
looking for shoes as well as a shovel?”

“Yep.”

“And if I prove Warren didn’t kill
Jimbo
, then
Brax
is going to come after you.”

“Yep.”

“And you think someone’s got your shovel to trot it out just at the right time. To make it look like you killed
Jimbo
.”

“Yep.”

“Would you stop saying yep?” She was almost shouting. It was worse than she’d thought. “I can’t let him go to jail for something he didn’t do.”

Nick took a step forward and dropped his voice to a seductive, frightening whisper. “Do you want to know what I really think, Bobbie?”

No. “What?”

“I think Cookie Beaumont asked your husband to kill
Jimbo
in order to get her out of her marriage.”

Her insides cramped. “She told him that
Jimbo
beat her. But to actually ask Warren to kill him?” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“She fed me the same sob story about
Jimbo
being abusive. You have to ask yourself why, now that
Jimbo’s
dead.” He stood in the shadows cast by the blinds. Strips of light slashed his chest and face, but covered the slits of his eyes. And he waited.

What was she supposed to say? Or even feel? Too much had happened too quickly, and each new bit of information only brought a numbness to her bones. Cookie had tried to coerce Nick. Which meant Cookie had planned her husband’s murder long before Warren came to town.
Warren, you fool
. She could almost feel sorry for him. “We have to tell
Brax
.”

“It’s too late. It wouldn’t matter anyway.
Brax’ll
just think I’m saying it to cover my own butt.”

“It will at least get him looking at Cookie.”

“He’ll already be looking at Cookie because she was having an affair with your husband.”

Paralysis crawled down her arms to her fingers. “Warren didn’t tell him about Cookie. He said
Jimbo
was mad at him because he was stealing clients from someone named Dennis Grouch.”

“Crouch?” Nick snorted. “Didn’t
you
tell
Brax
then?”

“No.” The word didn’t make much of a sound in the quiet room. Princess had long since stopped barking. The streets were devoid of children, mothers having called them in for the night. Silence reigned except for the echo of that word between them.

“Why not?”

“Because...” She licked her lips. “Because if
Brax
knows Warren was having an affair with Cookie, then he’ll also have a motive. Nothing would save Warren after that.”

“He confessed, Bobbie. Whether he did the deed or she did it, he’s covering for her. He’s already made his choice about what he wants to do.”

“But I can’t let him—”

He spread his hands. “Is he asking for your help?”

“No.”

“Then tell
Brax
the truth and let what happens happen.”

It would be the easiest thing. No struggle. No saying horrible things to Warren to get him to cave in. And
Brax
wouldn’t look at Nick as suspect number two.

She put her hands to her cheeks, covering her lips with her pinkies. “I can’t.”

“Because you’re still in love with him?”

The very idea made her sink onto the edge of Nick’s bed. “I...”