Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [74]
“What did you tell Griff when he called?” she asked.
Derek stared at her questioningly.
“About your professional assessment of the three possible suspects that we’ve interviewed,” she explained.
Derek took a swig from the coffee cup, set it down on the desk, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I told him what I told you—that I think Travis Dillard is capable of cold, calculated murder. And he’s smart enough to pull off killing three people without leaving any evidence to link him to the crimes. Duane Hines is a couple of bricks shy of a load, but I doubt he’s a killer. Besides, he doesn’t have the money for plane fare and elaborate masks.”
“I don’t think Kyle Richey would risk destroying the life he’s built with his new wife,” Maleah said. “Just my opinion, of course. I don’t have your credentials as a profiler.”
“I agree. Besides, Richey’s the type who would kill in the heat of passion. He’s not the cold, calculating type who would plan and execute a series of murders.”
“That means for the time being, Travis Dillard is our chief suspect.”
“The agency is checking on his whereabouts when each of the murders took place. If he has a concrete alibi for just one, he’s not our guy. Unless he hired a hitman.”
“After we talk to Casey Lloyd today, that leaves only one more person on our interview list. Grant Leroy, the director.”
“Actually, Griff added another name to the list.”
Maleah widened her eyes and glared at Derek. “You’d think Griff would inform me of what’s going on. After all, I am the Powell agent. You’re just a consultant.”
Derek chuckled. “I’m sure Griff didn’t think twice about giving me the info. He knows we’re working as a team on this case and we share everything.” He winked at her. “Well, just about everything.”
Maleah groaned.
“Where’s your sense of humor, honey?”
“Do not call me honey!”
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Perdue.”
Maleah scowled at him. “Who did Griff add to the list?”
“His name is Tyler Owens, but he’s actually not a suspect. His mother is Terri Owens, aka Candy Ruff. When Powell’s tried to contact his mother to warn her about the murders and find out if she had received any letters, he explained that his mother had recently had a stroke and is recovering in a rehab center. He asked for the interview. He has three letters that were sent to his mother. He thinks receiving these letters contributed to her stroke.”
“And we’re going to waste our time interviewing him because?”
“Because he said he thinks he might know who the killer is.”
Shelley Gilbert’s call came into the sheriff’s department at exactly 9:35 A.M. and two patrol cars were sent out immediately to Lorie Hammonds’s home.
When Mike showed up at 10:05, he found the situation worse than he had imagined. He had expected to find reporters from the local newspaper and TV station and possibly a few nosy neighbors. But what he drove smack-dab into was pure bedlam. A horde of at least fifty people had congregated in Lorie’s yard and the road in front of her house. When he got out of his truck, he counted six different TV cameras and a dozen photographers taking snapshots of the house, the crowd, and the uniformed officer guarding the front door. Mike assumed another patrolman was at the back door.
As he made his way through the mixed rabble of reporters and townspeople, Mike spotted more than a dozen faces he instantly recognized. He knew these people. They had voted for him. Two of them went to church with him.
“It’s Sheriff Birkett,” someone yelled and all heads turned to search for him in the crowd.
One cameraman zeroed in on him and the accompanying reporter called out a question. “Sheriff, is it true that you were once engaged to Ms. Hammonds?”
Someone else shouted, “Is she as hot in the sack in real life as she is in Midnight Masquerade?”
Mike clenched his jaw tightly. Do not react. Do not respond. Don’t let anyone goad you into saying or doing anything stupid.
When he didn’t reply to either question and continued walking toward Lorie’s house, people gradually