Peek-A-Boo Protector Page 12

  “But Honey didn’t want you, did she?” Sam said. “She turned you down and you got angry and were going to take the babies from her.”

  The judge fixed his gaze on Sam, then gestured around the room. “Look at this place. If I want something, I have enough money and power in this town to get it. I certainly wouldn’t need to resort to violence.”

  Rage heated Sam’s blood. “Honey figured that out and told you to get lost, didn’t she? She didn’t want an arrogant man like you around her children.”

  A coldness settled in the judge’s steely blue eyes. “Those babies are mine, and as soon as my people find them, they will be raised as Wexlers, not by a whore like Honey.”

  “And your wife and son are on board with that?” John asked.

  The judge cut his gaze toward John. “I’m Teddy Wexler. My wife and son will do whatever I tell them.”

  JOHN HAD SEEN A LOT of arrogant men in his time, but Teddy Wexler was the biggest narcissist he’d met to date. He might put on a charming face to the public, but the judge was ruthless.

  No wonder Honey had run. He could squash her like a bug.

  And he’d probably treated her like one, too. Romanced her, wined and dined her, gave her gifts, and when she’d gotten pregnant, he’d threatened her, bribed her, then…

  Then what?

  He wouldn’t have muddied his hands by going after her personally. No, the man was too cunning and smart. He had so much money he’d hire someone to take care of his dirty business. With his connections as a judge, he would also have access to men who would do anything for money—or a favor in the legal department.

  “Where is your wife now?” he asked. “We’d like to talk to her.”

  “That’s not possible at the moment. She’s at a private day spa getting the works today. It’s my treat for our anniversary.”

  “Then tomorrow.” John stood. “How about your son?”

  “You don’t need to speak to him,” Wexler said.

  John arched a brow. “I’ll decide that. Where does he live?”

  “In a condo downtown,” the judge answered. “But Teddy didn’t do anything to Honey Dawson. He’s a good boy.”

  A sardonic smile touched John’s face. “Then there’s no reason you’d mind me talking to him.”

  Wexler rose, then braced his hands on his desk. “Why don’t you go back to your little town and let us take care of things here, Chief.”

  John’s jaw tightened. “I’ll go home when I have the answers I came for.”

  He took Sam’s elbow and led her to the door. “We’ll be back tomorrow to speak to your wife. And all your money and power won’t stop me from finding the truth, Wexler.”

  Wexler slammed the door behind them and they went to the car.

  “I don’t like him,” Sam said as she settled in the seat. “And I don’t believe him. Why would a powerful man like him want his affair exposed? It seems he wouldn’t have wanted his wife to know that he’d slept with Honey, especially that she’d given birth to his children.”

  John started the engine and drove toward downtown Dallas. The last strains of the sun had faded, night was approaching, the long day wearing on them both. “I have to admit that is odd. Maybe Honey told his wife and that pissed him off, and he came after her. He could be lying about wanting to raise the babies as his.”

  They lapsed into another tense silence until they arrived at the multimillion dollar condominium complex, a high-rise modern structure that towered over neighboring buildings, but one that, according to the signs, boasted indoor and outdoor swimming pools, tennis courts, workout facilities, spas, restaurants and bars, as well as an underground exclusive shopping center.

  A virtual minicity within itself.

  John parked in the parking deck, then they entered the building, and stopped at the security desk. Modern overhead lighting, sleek marble floors and contemporary paintings added ambience. The setup appeared to cater to a younger posh sect, leaving the rugged ranch life behind.

  John explained to the tall bald attendant at the desk that he needed to see Teddy Wexler Jr.

  “You must be here for his party. Let me buzz him on his intercom.” The attendant flipped a switch and announced them. “Mr. Wexler, you have two more guests.”

  Seconds later, Teddy Jr.’s Texas drawl echoed back. “All right, send them up.”

  “Unit 2304.” The attendant gestured toward the bank of elevators to the right. John punched the up button. Steel doors slid open, and he and Sam climbed inside.

  The elevator stopped twice to let on others, then finally they arrived and walked down a plush carpeted hallway to the unit on the end. Loud music rocked the walls, the sound of voices and laughter filling the hallway.

  John knocked on a steel door, and it slid open. Teddy Wexler, a younger version of his father, stood in the entryway dressed in a fancy black button-up shirt and designer jeans with silver-studded cowboy boots, a bourbon in his hand. Behind him, the room was packed with guests drinking, laughing and dancing.

  Teddy Jr.’s drunken smile faded slightly at the sight of John’s badge, then his gaze roved over Sam and a leer lit his eyes.

  John sized him up immediately. Cocky, lazy, spoiled, rich, and judging from the way his gaze roved over Sam and lingered on her breasts, a damn womanizer. He was also sporting a bruised nose and a scrape on his right hand.

  The son of a bitch could take his eyes off Sam. She wasn’t up for grabs.

  The thought momentarily stunned him. He had no claims on Sam, so why should it bother him if another man looked at her?

  Teddy extended his hand to Sam and introduced himself. “Well, hello there, sugar. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

  Sam stiffened and pulled her hand away. “The name is Samantha Corley.”

  “Samantha,” he said in a low murmur. “Nice to meet you.”

  John cleared his throat. “I’m Chief of Police John Wise, from Georgia.”

  Teddy’s mouth thinned as he shook his hand. “What’s a Georgia cop doing all the way here in Texas crashing my party?”

  “We’re here about Honey Dawson,” Sam cut in, obviously seeing Teddy Jr. for the leech he was.

  Teddy swung his gaze to her again, a look of displeasure clearly shadowing his face. So he wasn’t as adept at acting as his father. Behind him, John noticed a beautiful brunette watching. She started toward them, but Teddy Jr. stepped into the hallway and pushed the door shut to keep out prying eyes as he confronted them. “As you can see, I’m busy.”

  “We just want you to answer a couple of questions,” John said smoothly. “If you have nothing to hide, then that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Teddy sipped his drink. “Why would you think I know anything about that woman?”

  “Cut the crap,” John said. “We’ve talked to your father. We know he and Honey had an affair and that the twins she gave birth to might have been his. He admitted that he hired a private investigator to find her.”

  Teddy’s brown brow shot up. “And has he found her?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” John said. “We think someone followed her all the way to Georgia to Miss Corley’s house, and tried to kill her.”

  Teddy leaned against the wall. “Well, it’s no wonder. Honey was a two-bit tramp who’d spread her legs for any guy in pants. I’m sure she ticked off a lot of people.”

  “How about you?” John asked. “Did she tick you off by sleeping with your father?”

  “I don’t care who the hell my old man bangs,” Teddy said. “We both like women.”

  “And your father liked Honey,” John said. “How did your father feel about her pregnancy?”

  Teddy shrugged. “Dad tried to help the bitch because he felt sorry for her. He even gave her some money for those brats, but she wanted more. She would have milked him for everything he had if he let her.”

  “So you’re admitting you had a motive to hurt her?” John said.

  Teddy clamped his mouth shut, then s
aid, “No, I’m just telling you the facts.”

  “This is what I think happened.” John poked Teddy’s chest with his finger. “Your father wanted to keep Honey quiet about the babies. And you didn’t want to share Daddy’s money with anyone, especially Honey and her twins, so one or both of you conspired to get rid of her.”

  “For your information, the money Dad gave Honey was nothing to us,” Teddy said snidely. “And I wouldn’t fool with hurting that bitch. She’s not worth the trouble.”

  John folded his arms. Teddy could be lying. “How did you get those bruises, Teddy?”

  Teddy fidgeted and rubbed at his nose. “A fight.”

  “You mean a barroom brawl?”

  He shook his head. “Hell, no. The son of a bitch you should be talking to, Reed Tanner. That hothead was here earlier and crashed my party.”

  “And you two got into a fight?”

  He nodded. “Tanner was jealous of me back in high school because I landed the quarterback position over him, and tonight he attacked me.”

  “He attacked you for something that happened years ago?” John asked. “I’m not buying that.”

  Teddy jammed his free hand in his pocket. “Well, believe it. Tanner’s hated me ever since. He and Honey had a fling before she moved on to screw my old man. Maybe those babies are his, and he killed her because she tried to milk him for money, too. Hell, she might have been blackmailing a half dozen other guys for all I know.”

  John studied him for a long moment. He didn’t totally believe Teddy was innocent, but Jimmy Bartow had also mentioned Reed Tanner, so he had to check him out, too.

  John glanced down at Teddy’s shoes. They were just about the same size as the boot prints outside Sam’s house, but these were expensive cowboy boots, and the prints at Sam’s had looked like work boots. Would Wexler even own a pair of work boots?

  He needed a warrant to search Teddy’s and take his DNA and prints. “Where were you three nights ago?”

  Teddy’s face grew pinched. “Right here in Dallas. My mom and I had dinner that night. You can ask her yourself.”

  “I’ll do that,” John said. “And if you had anything to do with Honey’s disappearance or if you tried to hurt her babies, I will find out, Teddy. And this time your daddy’s money won’t save your butt or keep you out of jail. Nothing will.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sam had just reached the car when the sound of a gun firing rent the air. She screamed as the bullet zinged by her head.

  “Get down!” John shouted.

  Her pulse jumped as she ducked beside the car, her chest heaving as she searched the shadows of the parking deck. Bright headlights from a car to the right nearly blinded her, and another shot rang out, hitting the windshield of a sedan to their left.

  John crouched beside her, removed his gun from the holster, then inched his head up to see over the car. “Dammit, I can’t see him.”

  Another shot hit the roof of their car, and she grabbed John’s arm. “Get down, he’s going to kill you!”

  John squeezed her hand, but gently pried it loose. “Sam, stay here and stay low, I’m going after him.”

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s too dangerous.”

  He ignored her, then wove between the parked cars, crouching as he ran. Another bullet zoomed by, and hit the concrete, and she held her breath, praying it missed. John fired back this time, and she saw a shadow move. Footsteps pounded the pavement, then the sound of a car engine firing up echoed off the concrete walls of the deck.

  Tires screeched, more headlights flooded the darkness, then the car raced by, firing once more at her before it shot out into the street.

  Sam clutched the door handle, trembling as John ran back toward her, then clicked the automatic keypad to unlock the doors. “Get in, Sam!”

  She threw open the door and jumped inside, reaching for her seat belt as John started the car, hit the gas and spun them forward. Their tires squealed as he careened from the parking deck, and he raced onto the street. But a red light caught them, hemming them in downtown traffic, and up ahead the shooter disappeared into the night.

  “Damn,” John muttered, then slapped the steering wheel with his hand. “I couldn’t get a license plate.”

  “Do you think that was Teddy Jr. firing at us?” Sam asked.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I don’t know. If it was, he got downstairs awfully fast.”

  “Maybe that guy Reed Tanner was still hanging around,” Sam suggested.

  “It’s possible.” John pulled at his chin. “Although for a moment when I was chasing the shooter, I thought it might have been a woman.”

  “A woman?” Sam pursed her lips. “Maybe Judge Wexler’s wife?”

  John shrugged. “I didn’t get a good look. And we still haven’t talked to that cheerleader Tiffany Maylor.”

  “Then let’s go talk to her,” Sam said.

  “I’ll see if Detective Arnold can get me a search warrant for Wexler’s place, and for his prints. If we find a gun that matches those bullet casings we can bring him in for questioning and pressure him to talk.”

  He circled back around the block, drove back into the deck, then pulled on gloves and grabbed a flashlight from the trunk. “Let me find the bullet casings so I can have them analyzed. If we can trace the gun, maybe we’ll find out who’s doing this.”

  Sam stared out the window as he searched. If Teddy Wexler owned half of the town and was as powerful as everyone implied, would they be able to find a judge who would sign a search warrant for his son’s condo?

  JOHN PHONED DETECTIVE ARNOLD and explained about the shooting.

  Detective Arnold made a low sound in his throat. “Bring the bullets by and I’ll have our crime lab process them.”

  “Good. Have you located Neil Kinney yet?” John asked.

  “We’re working on it.”

  John explained about his conversation with Judge Wexler and his son. “I need a warrant for Teddy Jr.’s condo and car,” John said.

  Detective Arnold released a low whistle. “Judge Wexler is well known and respected around here. It won’t be easy to find another judge who’ll cross him, especially without more to go on than you have.”

  John gritted his teeth. One thing he hated about politics—even in a town this big, money bred power and people could be bought.

  “Well, see what you can do anyway,” he said. “I need another favor.”

  A long sigh. “What?”

  “Find an address on a woman named Tiffany Maylor. She and Honey were competing for the same cheerleader spot.”

  “You think a girl would try to kill someone over cheerleading tryouts?”

  John shrugged. The high school girls had certainly gotten into some nasty cat fights during competition. One his junior year had even ended up in the hospital. “I’m just checking out all leads.”

  “Hang on,” Detective Arnold said.

  John patted the steering wheel while he waited, and glanced at Sam. She looked exhausted and worried, and he considered taking her to a hotel room while he went to question Tiffany. But after that close call earlier, he couldn’t leave her alone.

  Detective Arnold came back on the line and gave him an address for an apartment near the football stadium, and John thanked him, then steered the rental car toward the apartment. Tiffany’s dwellings were nothing like Teddy’s—she lived in an older white house that had been divided into apartments. He parked on the side street, then he and Sam climbed out and walked up the sidewalk to the front. He checked the numbers and found Tiffany’s, then knocked. Country music floated from the house, and a light switched on in the foyer, then a young redhead wearing a tank top and exercise shorts opened the door.

  “Tiffany Maylor?” John asked.

  The petite redhead removed the earphone from her iPod. “No, I’m Cara, Tiffany’s roommate.” She gestured toward a large framed photo of a dark brunette wearing a cheerleading outfit on the wall. “That’s Tiff.”

 
“Where is she?” John asked.

  Cara twisted her mouth sideways. “Who wants to know?”

  John flashed his ID. “We need to question her about a woman who’s missing. Did you know Honey Dawson?”

  Cara bit her lip. “Good grief, you’re the second person who’s been asking about that girl.”

  “Who else asked?” John asked.

  “Some guy named Reed Tanner and a female P.I.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” John said. “Did you know her?”

  “She tried out for the cheerleading squad like Tiffany. I heard Tiff talk about her, but I never met her.”

  “So you weren’t at tryouts?” Sam asked.

  Cara laughed. “No way, I’m in college studying premed.”

  “Tiffany didn’t like Honey, did she?” John asked.

  Cara waved a hand dismissively. “They were competing for the same spot. Claws come out, but that doesn’t mean Tiffany would hurt Honey. She got the spot fair and square when Honey was cut.”

  “Where is Tiffany now?” John asked again.

  Cara sighed. “She had practice earlier, then showered and went to a party.”

  “Where is the party?” John asked.

  “Teddy Wexler’s condo.”

  “She knows Teddy?” Sam asked, her gaze swinging to John’s.

  Cara nodded. “Yeah, they went out a while back, but they’re just friends now. Tiff said Teddy has the best parties in town though, so she didn’t want to burn any bridges.”

  John’s suspicions mounted. He’d thought he’d seen a woman in the parking deck. And the dark brunette he’d seen at Teddy’s watching him from the foyer was the same one in the picture on the wall. So, Tiffany Maylor had been at Teddy’s when they were there.

  Had she heard them asking questions? Had she shot at them when they’d gone down to the parking deck?

  “Does Tiffany own a gun?” John asked.

  Cara’s eyes twitched. “You really should talk to Tiffany.”

  “Does she own a gun?” he asked again.

  Tiffany shrugged. “Yeah, a pistol. She said she bought it for protection.”

  “What kind was it?”