Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 by Karen Whiddon (interesting books to read for teens TXT) 📕

Once settled in the lounge area, he watched her call numerous people, sometimes by texting first.

“Still no answer from the witness?”

She shook her head. “No. My boss was right to have me come in, as the witness is only going to talk on our office landline. I get it. But he’s not been easy to connect with, that’s for certain. It took me months to track him down and then convince him to meet with me this week. And you know how that turned out.” She pointed at her throat as if he’d need a reminder at how close that jerk had come to strangling her.

“Who else do you want to talk to?”

She pursed her lips in concentration, scrolled on her laptop. “This is becoming so much bigger than Charlie Hamm’s story, isn’t it? There’s Len Davison, serial killer, who targets older men as they walk their dogs. Bowe destroyed evidence against him and blamed Bonnie, his assistant at the time, firing her. The drug cartel wanted to frame Charlie, to keep the heat off of them. Now they’re after me. The other person I need to verify statements with, besides Johnny Blanchard, is Charlie’s lawyer. His lawyer was less than helpful, frankly, and I blame his incompetence for Charlie’s conviction as much as the false evidence and lying witness.”

“Has his attorney ever answered any of your calls?”

“No, but maybe I’ll get lucky tonight. Catch him off guard with an evening call.” She dialed the phone and put it on speaker. They were alone in the lounge area, the few other reporters working the night shift at their desks, coming in sporadically for hot beverages or to heat up food in the microwave.

“Hello?” A wary greeting.

“Mr. Chambers? This is Dominique de la Vega, from the Grave Gulch Gazette.”

“I know who you are. I only picked up to tell you in person to stop harassing me. I’ve got nothing for you.”

“I’m sorry, but I have some questions about Charlie’s case.”

“Don’t we all? But the truth, Ms. de la Vega? There are no questions as far as I’m concerned. Charlie was the target of the Jimenez cartel. Yeah, I know all about them, does that surprise you? I’ve had to protect my family from the cartel, trust me. I suggest you keep yourself safe, because they’re ruthless.”

“Are you saying you might not have given Charlie’s case all of the required efforts because of pressure from the cartel?”

“Heck no. I did what I could for Charlie. But the GGPD lab’s director, that Randall Bowe character they just sighted in Grave Gulch Park, he’s responsible for Charlie’s imprisonment. Him and that darn witness, Blanchard. They made sure Charlie got put away for a long time. And when that wasn’t enough, when it was clear Charlie’s case was going to be reopened, they had him killed.”

Dominique’s face paled, then red rushed into her cheeks. “Why do you think that, Mr. Chambers?”

“I don’t think it, I know it. Do I have evidence? No. Darn cartel knows the law as well as I do, leaves no crumbs, no traces that would link them to any of the myriad crimes they’ve committed in this town. Murder’s the least of it, if you ask me.”

Stanton heard the attorney’s frustration, but also wished the man would understand he was speaking to an ally in Dominique.

“All I’m asking, Mr. Chambers, is that we meet and I interview you for the story I’m working on. You of all people will understand that I’m seeking justice for Char—”

“Justice was not served and it won’t be until they arrest and prosecute Randall Bowe! Add in the cartel and its entire group of thugs, especially its kingpin. I’m out. I did what I could do for Charlie. He’s dead, may he rest in peace. I’ve accepted that and I’m working on cases where I can still make a difference. I suggest you do the same with the stories you choose to pursue.” He ended the connection. Dominique grimaced, but not before Stanton saw the frustrated disappointment in her eyes. His chest ached for her.

“Want a cup of tea? I’m buying.” He rose and went to the beverage counter, turned on the coffee maker that took pods of tea, too.

“Sure. Earl Grey.” She typed on her laptop with aplomb, as if a nasty, embittered defense attorney hadn’t just cussed her out and slammed the phone in her ear.

“What are you writing?”

“He may not be on the record, and I can’t use any quotes, but I always keep notes about my conversations and interactions with possible interviewees. You’d be surprised how many of them come around once the bad guys are behind bars and they know they’re safe.”

“He didn’t sound like he was going to change his mind.”

“Maybe not, but he has a family to protect. I can’t blame him.” She paused. “I’ve been thinking.”

Oh boy. Here it came. She was going to lay it on him about their lovemaking, which neither had addressed. He mentally scrambled for an emotionally detached response. Still stinging from overreacting to the fireworks, he needed to demonstrate he had it together.

“Oh?” He pressed the button and waited for her mug to fill.

“I was stupid to show up at my dad’s tonight. Family is very important to me, and it would have hurt to miss his party, but honestly, the cartel could have tracked me there and innocent people could have been hurt, or worse.”

“I took all precautions to ensure you were not followed.”

“I know, but it’s a matter of time. I don’t think I should go back to the lake house, either. If anything happened to your parents, I’d never forgive myself.”

“They’re out of town.”

“Still...” She blew her hair out of her eyes as she stared at her screen. Was she using it as a shield to keep from looking directly at him? He wouldn’t blame her. Whenever their gazes locked, it usually led to either quarreling or being