Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) (23 page)

The tall and skinny brunette shoved a stack of papers in his hand. “Several. By the way, I quit.”

It was only with her words that he even noticed that she had her purse slung over her shoulder and a sour expression.

“What do you mean you quit? What’s wrong today?”

Karla had various complaints, mostly to do with the hours, working conditions, and the pay. She didn’t like her desk. She didn’t like the sound of a ringing phone. She didn’t like talking on the phone. And she didn’t like making coffee.

“I’ve been dealing with a phone ringing off the hook since the minute I got here,” she huffed.

“That’s your job,” he reminded her tightly. He had damn near come to the end of his patience and that was saying something.

“Not anymore. You don’t pay me enough to do this.” Turning on her heel, Karla was out the door without a backward glance.

“Good riddance,” Adam muttered. “What a royal bitch. I didn’t want to say anything, boss, but that woman was simply unpleasant in every way she could be.”

Griffin sighed and rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “You should have said something before. She was walking a thin line with me anyway. If I knew she wasn’t treating you guys well I would have let her go.”

“She’s gone now.” Adam shrugged and sat down next to Jazz who had silently watched the exchange. “Let’s get going, Jazz, so you can get out of this craziness.”

Griffin left Adam and Jazz to it and went straight back to his office, closing the door behind him. Flipping through the messages, he had a few from the local news reporters that he knew personally and a few from journalists he’d never heard from before. He picked up one message and started to smile. Jared. Hopefully he had some information that would help the investigation.

Picking up the receiver, Griffin punched in a few numbers and waited for Jared to answer.

“Monroe.”

“Hey, it’s Griffin. I got your message. Tell me something good, buddy.”

“I’m about to tell you something you are not going to like,” Jared warned. “That guy Wayne you had me check out. You said he was ex-military. He’s not ex-anything. His real name is Wayne LaDuke and he’s employed by
The Latest
magazine. You know the one where you and Jazz are front and center? Looks like you’ve got a fox in the henhouse.”

Griffin clutched the phone tighter in his hand, wishing it was Wayne’s neck under his fingers or maybe even Tony’s. He didn’t like being made a fool of and those two had done a number on him. Griffin had known in his gut there was no way Wayne could have been in the military but he’d trusted Tony’s bios. How many of them were smoke and mirrors?

“I know just what to do with a fox. Anything else?”

“Yeah, that Tony guy, the producer-director? Seems he’s got something of a temper. He’s been arrested twice for domestic battery with a former girlfriend. Charges were dropped, and from what I’ve been able to find the network buried the story.”

“That’s very interesting. Seems like I’ve got a couple of people I need to talk to again.”

“I don’t envy you this case. It’s hard enough to solve a crime but to do it with a bunch of reporters watching you? That’s bullshit.”

Griffin couldn’t agree more but the situation was what it was. “I know, but there’s nothing to be done now. No sense closing the barn door if all the horses are out. I’ve got to make a statement to the press sometime today too. Shit, I hate this. A week ago my life was normal.”

“Normal is a state of mind,” Jared retorted. “Listen, I need to run. I’ve got a full workload here and all this research as well.”

“I really appreciate your help. I owe you a steak dinner at King’s.”

“You bet I’ll collect. See you.”

Jared hung up and Griffin sifted through the rest of the messages. They could all wait. He stood and opened his office door to yell for Adam to bring in the current suspects for a second interrogation but was shocked to see Jazz at Karla’s desk. Cradling the phone between her head and shoulder, she was typing something into the computer.

“What’s Jazz doing?” Adam was standing at the printer hopefully completing Jazz’s statement. “Is that her statement?”

“Yep, all she needs to do is sign it.” Adam grinned and puffed out his chest with pride. “She volunteered to stick around and help in any way she could so I put her to work at Karla’s desk. I think she’s doing a pretty good job.”

If Jazz hadn’t yelled at anyone or made bad coffee she was already doing better than Karla ever had, but this kind of work probably wasn’t her idea of fun. He waited until she hung up before leaning down so his palms were on the desk, their heads close together.

“Hollywood, what are you doing?”

He kept his voice low. His business wasn’t everyone else’s business.

She looked up, merriment in her eyes. “Helping. What does it look like? No wait, don’t answer that. I’m not sure I want an honest answer. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I do have some rudimentary computer skills and I’m good with people. So far I’ve answered three phone calls and no one yelled or anything.”

“Okay, I know what you’re doing—why don’t you let me in on the why you’re doing it.”

“You need the help.” Such a simple statement but it made Griffin’s heart twist in his chest. Her expression was honest and direct, those blue eyes wide and innocent. She simply wanted to make his day a little easier.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I can have Adam take you back to the house,” he offered, trying to give her an out. She didn’t have to do this if she didn’t really want to.

“And just sit there doing nothing or watching television?” Jazz wrinkled her cute little nose. “No, thank you. I’d rather be busy. Are you okay with it?”

Her uncertain expression about did him in. He smiled reassuringly and patted her hand. “Of course you can stay. I’m thankful for the help. It’s going to get crazy around here.”

She nodded as the phone rang again and he turned his attention back to Adam. “Get Tony Albright, Gordon Schofield, Danny Molton, and Wayne LaDuke, better known as Wayne Larker, in here. I want to talk to them. Bring them in the back door.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Adam dropped the statement on Jazz’s new desk and picked up his keys from the file cabinet. “What are you going to do about the reporters outside?”

“I’m going to make a goddamn statement, that’s what I’m going to do,” Griffin grated. If he gave them some information, they just might leave him alone. “Now.”

Adam scurried out of the front door and Griffin stood there thinking about what he was going to say. And not say. A great deal was riding on his ability to hold things together around here and keep control.

“Are you really going to make a statement?”

Jazz’s soft voice pulled his from his unpleasant thoughts. “I have to. They’re like rabid dogs out there. They won’t be satisfied until I throw some raw meat at them.”

“Raw meat? I’m not sure I like the sound of that, Griffin.” Jazz tapped a pencil against a pad of paper, her expression one of concern. “Do you want me to be there with you when you do it?”

“Yes, both you and Levi. Maybe Peggy as well. You know, in the military they would have called this a diversionary tactic.”

“Diversion?”

Griffin smiled as his thoughts became clear in his mind. He knew what to do and say. He had Uncle Sam to thank for it.

“Call the hotel and get Levi and Peggy here. I’m going to give the press some homework. I might as well put them to work since they’re here.”

“You’re starting to scare me.”

Laughing at the dry tone in her voice, Griffin simply shook his head. “On the contrary, for the first time today I’m starting to think clearly. Just watch, Hollywood. Today we throw the dogs a bone and let them keep busy fighting over it.”

Hopefully they would take the bait.

*   *   *   *

Griffin stood at a makeshift podium in front of the sheriff’s station. Surrounded by reporters holding out microphones along with a couple of satellite trucks and cameras, he appeared to be calm, cool, and completely in control. Jazz, standing just behind him and next to Levi and Peggy, couldn’t help but admire his self-possession. If this bothered him, and she was pretty sure it did, it didn’t show in the least.

“Do you know why we’re here?” Levi whispered in Jazz’s ear.

“It’s exciting just to be on the news. I hope my mother sees this,” enthused Peggy. “This is really cool.”

Jazz wasn’t as convinced. She’d always dreamed about being in the spotlight, but now that it had happened it wasn’t nearly as exciting as she’d imagined. In fact, having all these cameras stuck in her face really kind of sucked. It wasn’t glamorous at all.

“I’m not really sure,” she admitted. “Griffin wanted us here while he makes a statement about the case.”

“Poor Sandy,” Peggy sighed. “So young and pretty.”

“Poor sheriff.” Levi nodded to where Griffin was waiting patiently while the crowd milled around him. Citizens of the town must have heard what was going on because the throng was growing exponentially. “He’s under a microscope. No one should have to solve a murder under those conditions. Especially not a private man like him.”

“Can everyone quiet down?” Griffin’s deep commanding tones boomed from the microphone and the crowd quickly hushed. He held up a piece of paper and began to speak. “I have a short statement and then I will take a few questions.”

You could have heard a pin drop on the pavement. He had their complete and undivided attention.

“My name is Sheriff Griffin Sawyer and I have been a resident of Hope Lake my entire life except for a couple of trips to Afghanistan. I have been the head lawman for the last five years. If you want to know anything more about me, my biography is on the town website.”

There were a few murmurings and Jazz was sure several people had just pulled out their phones and were searching for more information about the handsome sheriff.

“Yesterday afternoon the body of a young woman, Sandy Dunham, was found by two local men. Preliminary time of death from the coroner is estimated to be around noon. The medical examiner has not given an official cause of death but there were ligature marks around her neck and defensive marks on her body. Any DNA or trace evidence found has been sent to the state crime lab. Yesterday my deputies and I interviewed the contestants, producers, and crew of the show. After confirming the details, we were able to eliminate several people as suspects including the crew and the three contestants you see behind you. The investigation will continue today as we talk to persons of interest and receive information back from the lab.”

Griffin raised his head from the statement and looked out over what must look like a sea of faces to him.

“I will take a few questions.” A dozen hands shot up and voices rose until he held up his hands. “
One
at a time or this press conference comes to an end.”

Griffin pointed to one of the men in the first row. “How about you start?”

“Sheriff Sawyer, you say these people have been eliminated. On what basis?”

“Solid alibis,” Griffin replied, his expression flat but serious. “Levi Collins and Peggy Stahley were both with Deputy Adam at the time of the murder in the station house behind me. Jazz Oliver and I were in another town investigating another case. Next question.”

A woman pushed to the front, a microphone held out. “Sheriff, are you and Jazz Oliver having an affair?”

If Jazz had expected Griffin to be angry she was disappointed. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his features. It was as if the reporter had asked him the price of milk. It was that crazy patience and control he’d learned as one of ten kids.

“I don’t see what that has to do with the investigation but I’ll answer it anyway. Neither Jazz or I are married to other people, so the answer is no, we are not having an affair.”

“But are you sleeping together?” the woman persisted. “She was seen entering your home last night and no one saw her leave.”

This time an eyebrow lifted just a little and his silver eyes turned a flinty charcoal. He leaned forward so his lips were close to the microphone. “I’m only going to say this once so I want to be very clear. Jazz Oliver is under my protection. You can twist and turn that any way you want. You will anyway. Let me say something else while I’m at it. Hope Lake is my town. These residents depend on me to protect them, and nothing will keep me from doing that. If any of you get in the way, or harass the good people of this town, the information flowing from my office to you will come to a halt. A complete stop. Do we understand each other? Good. Next question.”

The crowd pressed forward and questions and answers were volleyed back and forth. The reporters seemed slightly more subdued after Griffin had given them the evil eye speech and no one referred to anymore hanky or panky—the questions focused on the investigation.

“One more question, Sheriff.” A tall man in the back raised his hand. “What was the motive for this murder?”

“We don’t know yet,” Griffin stated flatly. “That is still a question unanswered. Why would anyone hurt this young woman?”

The man scribbled frantically on his notepad and Jazz began to see Griffin’s genius. The press was going to dig into the background of Sandy, of course. If there was any dirt, they would find it, but that wasn’t the important thing. Griffin had given them something to grab and work with. He’d given them a bone to chew while he got on with the investigation.

Griffin held up both hands and took a step back. “No more questions. Thank you.”

Voices rang out with additional queries but Griffin ignored them all, corralling Jazz, Levi, and Peggy into the station. He pointed to the coffee machine and then back to the front door.

“Help yourself to some coffee while the reporters disperse. Unless, of course, you want to be in the papers or on TV. If so, you’re free to go.”

Jazz watched him head back to the interrogation room and she hurried to catch up with him, wrapping her hand around his heavily muscled arm.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

Griffin chuckled and smiled, those gray eyes no longer cold and hard. “While all the press was out front, I had Wayne, Danny, Tony, and Gordon snuck in the back entrance for a second session of questions.”