Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) (18 page)

“Because Casey lied all the time. About everything. She lied about shit that didn’t matter,” Buddy declared. “Casey Charlock, sweet as she was, was the biggest liar I’ve ever known in my life.”

*   *   *   *

Griffin wanted to throttle the red-faced kid. “Why in the hell didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked incredulously.

“I dunno.” Buddy shrugged, his expression abashed. “My mom and dad always said to never speak ill of the dead. It seemed a crappy thing to do to call her a liar. I did care about her, Sheriff.”

Rubbing his suddenly throbbing temple, Griffin reined in his anger and frustration. Buddy Meltreeger was only twenty-two. In the eyes of the law an adult, but really still a child inside.

“What made you change your mind and tell me now?” he asked between gritted teeth.

“I guess now that’s she’s been gone for so long it doesn’t feel all that terrible to say it out loud. She wasn’t a bad person.” Buddy’s voice had an urgent quality. “She just lived in a fantasy world. Probably because of her mom.”

Griffin flicked his gaze quickly to Jazz to make sure she was alright with this line of questioning. Ever since her crying jag at the house, she’d seemed more centered but this might send her off the end again.

“Can you clarify that statement about her mother?” Jazz asked softly but clearly.

“Casey’s mom was one stone-cold bitch. She really didn’t give a rat’s butt about Casey and the feeling was mutual. She was only living there until she could save up some money and go to college. Supposedly. But I found out from her friend Tonya that Casey was blowing all her money on new clothes and shoes. And she hadn’t even looked into schools. So that story was another bullshit line. One of many.”

“What were the others?” Jazz fiddled with the straw in her drink. Her expression looked calm but she was jiggling her foot under the table.

She wasn’t the only one who studied body language.

Buddy grinned as he scratched his chin. “There were a bunch of them. Her dad was going to buy her an apartment in New York City and she was going to move there and work for Donald Trump. Hell, I doubt Casey ever met her dad. Ever. And then there was the story about how she’d been chosen by a talent scout to go to Hollywood and be a model.”

“A talent scout? Do they even have those anymore?” Griffin pulled out his notebook and started scratching notes as quickly as he could.

“No, I don’t think so. Besides, Casey was about my height. No way was she going to be a model.” Jazz was shaking her head, her brows furrowed. “You said that Casey and her mom didn’t get along very well. Did they ever argue?”

“Not that I ever saw.” Buddy shook his head. “That would have required effort from her mom and that sure as shit wasn’t going to happen.”

Griffin paused and looked Buddy right in the eye. “I going to ask you a question and by God you better answer me honestly. Do you think Margaret Charlock had anything to do with Casey’s death?”

The young man’s expression grew solemn. “No, I don’t. Casey’s mom didn’t care enough about her to kill her. It was like she was invisible.”

“So who do you think killed her then?” Jazz’s follow up question came quickly on the heels of his answer.

“I can’t think of anyone I know that wanted her dead. She was a fun girl even if she did like to tell a few whoppers now and then. Everyone knew it and ignored it. If you needed something, Casey would be right there to help you. Like I said, she was sweet. But I guess she could have lied to the wrong person, maybe. Maybe she pissed someone off. Anything can happen.”

“The wrong person,” Jazz echoed softly. Her gaze was far away somewhere, her brow knitted in thought. The vibration of Griffin’s phone in his pocket pulled his attention from Jazz and Buddy. He frowned at the screen when he saw it was Adam. He knew better than to bother Griffin during an investigation.

He pressed the Accept button. “What?” he barked. “I’m working here, Adam. We talked about this, remember?”

Griffin listened, growing more appalled by the second. When he rang off he stood, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“What’s going on? Are we leaving?” Jazz reached down for the purse she’d tucked under the table.

“Yes,” he answered shortly. “Sorry, Buddy. Police business. Thanks for the time. We’ll be in touch.”

Griffin knew he was being rude just blowing the young man off like that but they needed to get back to Hope Lake. Now. He hustled Jazz out to the truck and swung into the driver’s seat.

“Where’s the fire?” Jazz asked, a little breathless at the way he’d dragged her out of the coffee shop. “Why are you in such a big hurry?”

“We need to get back to town right away.” The engine roared to life and he backed out of the parking space. “Sandy was found dead this afternoon by a couple of fisherman. Her body was dumped on the far side of the lake.”

Chapter Fifteen

I
t hadn’t been easy to convince Jazz to hang out at his house while he went to the site of the body. He’d finally had to lay down the law by telling her she was basically still a civilian and would have to sit in the truck if she went with him. Possibly for hours. Faced with that amount of boredom she’d finally given in, although he wouldn’t describe it as graceful.

Dropping her at home had made more sense than taking her all the way back to the motel and then circling back to the lake, but it made him kind of nervous. Jazz was all alone in his house. She could rifle through his clothes, movies, books, and even personal papers if she was determined. It felt so intimate. He didn’t have anything to be ashamed of but it felt like he was really putting himself out there for her to judge.

What if she found him lacking in some major way? And why did he care? He’d never cared what a woman thought of him before.

“Did you touch the body?” Griffin asked Irwin Nichols, one of the men who had come to the lake to fish and instead found Sandy dead about five feet from the water’s edge. The area was surrounded by several trees but hardly private. The killer had to have been desperate to dump a body pretty much out in the open albeit far from a main road.

Irwin shook his head, his face still pale from his gruesome discovery. Sandy’s body looked none too pretty. “No way. I barely kept down my lunch, Sheriff. We called the station the minute we saw her, poor girl.”

“Good job. I just want to review this. You didn’t see anyone or any vehicle, correct?”

“It was just me and Turk. Shit, we never expected this. Who would do something like this?”

That was the question of the hour. Griffin had given the body a cursory inspection without actually touching it, and one thing was clear—Sandy had put up a hell of a fight. She hadn’t gone down easy which meant her killer had been more powerful. Probably a man.

The state forensics team had arrived, taking over from the coroner who had pronounced her dead, and were now processing the body and the scene although Griffin doubted the lake was the actual kill location. The grass seemed mostly undisturbed whereas a struggle would have crushed the vegetation all around. No, the murder had taken place elsewhere and the body was dumped here.

It made finding the perpetrator harder. But not impossible.

“I don’t know who would do something like this, Irwin, but I plan to find out. Can you and Turk go with Adam to the station? He’s going to type up your statements and I want you to review them to make sure every single detail is correct, okay?”

Irwin nodded and followed Adam and his friend to a squad car. Griffin turned his attention back to the crime scene taking in the possible points of entry and exit. Luckily any driving not on the dirt road would show in the tall grasses. In addition, carrying a body in on foot would show deep prints on the banks.

Walking over to one of the crime lab SUV’s, Griffin spotted Layla Wallace. She’d been one of the techs that had processed Casey’s crime scene and a few others. Friendly and open, she was often more forthcoming than some of the others who rarely spoke and looked at Griffin as if he were some backwoods bumpkin sheriff.

“Hey, Layla. It’s good to see you on this one.”

Layla was labeling a brown paper bag but still smiled at his greeting. “I bet you say that to all the forensic technicians.”

“Hardly. Most of them won’t give me the time of day,” he replied. “I’m hoping you’re going to tell me something that’s going to help me.”

Layla tucked the bag into a suitcase filled with the evidence she’d collected. It looked like a hell of a lot more than they’d been able to get with Casey but then this was a fresh crime scene. The coroner estimated that Sandy hadn’t been dead long before she was found, perhaps less than an hour. “You know what I tell you is conjecture at this point. I don’t know anything for sure until I get to the lab.”

He knew she needed to cover her ass and respected that.

“I get it. Tell me what Layla thinks.”

Her eyebrow, complete with a gold earring piercing the skin quirked up, but she nodded thoughtfully and leaned on the vehicle. She looked like a biker chick with her piercings and tattoos but she knew her shit backwards and forwards.

“That girl put up a fight. I got scrapings from under her fingernails. Her clothes were torn and her panties were bunched up and her skirt was around her hips. Could be from sexual assault or just from being dragged. I’ve already put a note for the medical examiner to do a rape kit. She had bruising on her inner thighs and I got a good picture of what might be a useful print. She also had bruising on her arms and face. Looks like the doer smacked her around a little before he strangled her. We have ligature marks on the neck.”

“Any idea what he used?”

“Not at the moment but I’m still working on that. I need more time.”

Layla shut the back of the SUV and dug her keys out of her pocket, indicating question time was over.

“I appreciate the help. Thanks,” he said gratefully. Anything that could give him a head start was appreciated at this point. Sandy was basically a stranger in Hope Lake and he didn’t have a clue why anyone would want to kill her. Had someone followed her here? Was it a resident? Or was she a random killing?

Pulling his phone from his pocket he pressed a few buttons. Jared’s voice came on the line almost immediately.

“Hey, asshole. What’s up?”

“Can’t you ever greet someone normally? Don’t answer that. Listen, I need some of your computer wizardry. I got a dead woman here. She’s only been in town about a week and I know almost nothing about her.”

“And you want me to find out everything about her,” Jared stated. “Right down to what shampoo she uses.”

“Exactly. I have to figure out who might want to kill her.”

“It’s gonna cost you,” Jared warned with a laugh. “Nothing in life is free.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Jared was just blowing smoke. He loved hacking into places he wasn’t supposed to be. “Let me give you the particulars. I also need some background done on a few others.”

Griffin recited Sandy’s full name, age, and last known location which were all on the bio he’d been given at the beginning. Hopefully it would be enough although Jared was known to make miracles on occasion. In addition he gave Jared the names of all the competitors plus Tony and Gordon. Maybe there was a link somehow.

“Got it. It’s a tall order. It may take a few days.”

“I know. Just let me know when you have something,” replied Griffin, his attention already pulled in another direction. Tony was striding up to the crime scene with a determined look on his face.

“Will do.” Jared hung up and Griffin shoved the phone back in his pocket, bracing himself for what was to come. Although it was clear that Tony already knew what had happened, it was still never a pleasant job to talk about the details of a murder with someone who knew the deceased. Especially as Tony was a suspect in Griffin’s eyes. Tony and Sandy had been arguing just this morning.

“Sheriff.” Tony came right up to Griffin, invading his personal space as if to intimidate him. Griffin wasn’t that damn easy to intimidate. In fact, the producer didn’t give Griffin cause to worry in the least. He was just too much of a pretty boy. He’d never want to mess up his manicure. “I want to see Sandy.”