Killing the Secret by Donna Welch Jones Page A

Darren Flanders. Sam Wells is Loretta’s husband. Our potential president is Donovan Toleson. At least we have a list of possibles.” Lexie was heartened by the small achievement.
    “Where from here?” Tye asked.
    “You’re going to hold the fort down while I check out the other murder sites and investigation reports. With any luck, I can get on a plane to DC this afternoon. I’ll meet with Johnson, visit with Ronald again, and then go interview Mariah.
    She pushed in Johnson’s number. “Stan, it’s Lexie Wolfe. I’m on my way to Washington and want to meet to go over Terri Womack’s case.”
    “It’s a waste of your time…except for seeing me.” Johnson’s voice was seductive.
    “I can change your mind about that. Also, where’s Ronald? I need to talk to him.”
    “Now I’m curious,” Johnson said. “Let’s meet at the jail at five this afternoon. You can fill me in and then we can go see Ronald. Where are you staying?”
    “I don’t have a reservation yet. It was a quick decision to make the trip.”
    “It wouldn’t be very hospitable of me not to offer a fellow law enforcer a bed for the night.”
    “Well…thanks. What’s the jail address?”
    “1458 NE Hickory.”
    Tye’s words were shooting out of his mouth before she hung up the phone. “Is pretty-boy Stan going to fix you up?”
    “He’s arranging for me to meet with him and Ronald.” Lexie ignored his innuendo. Her personal life was none of his business. “I’m going home to get packed. My plane leaves Tulsa around noon. If you need me, call my cell.”
    He shrugged, “I can manage.”
    Lexie didn’t know if it was the escape from Diffee, or the prospect of seeing Stan again, that brought on her sudden exhilaration.
     

Chapter Twenty-Three
    The phone buzzed incessantly. Bud stood on the porch. His mind took no pleasure from the daffodils blooming in the garden or the sun sending rays across the lawn. He suppressed the urge to smash the phone to the floor. Finally, a meek voice said, “Hello?”
    “Beth, it’s me, Bud. I heard about Abbey’s death. Horrible!”
    “Yes, the hardest funeral I’ve ever been to,” Beth replied.
    “I can’t even imagine the pain this has caused her family. Have they found her murderer?”
    “No, but Delia told me that Lexie is going out of state to investigate the other murders for clues.”
    “I’d like to meet with you,” he urged. “Maybe together we can figure out what’s going on.”
    “No, I can’t,” Beth’s voice squeaked. “I don’t go anywhere without my husband. Lexie told me never to be alone. I can ask him to come with me on Saturday if that works for you.”
    “No, I have a schedule conflict. I just wanted to offer my condolences.”
    “Thank you,” Beth said. “See you soon.”
    “Yes,” Bud replied.
    Bud finished the bourbon in his glass then hurled it. Glass fragments glittered from the floor, the swing, and his shoes. His face contorted with contained rage. Now his time would be wasted with an eighth murder. That sheriff bitch had to die.
     

Chapter Twenty-Four
    The flight was long and late. Lexie worried about arriving past Stan’s appointed time. She rushed in the building only to find that he wasn’t there. When he did appear, he offered no explanation or apology.
    “Hi, Babe.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.
    He was even better looking than Lexie remembered. The red shirt under his gray jacket was open at the neck showing a triangle of chest hair. The shoulder squeeze sent ripples through her body.
    “So what mystery have you brought me to solve?” Stan said the words loud enough that a couple of men seated in the multi-desk area looked up in interest.
    “The mystery of an innocent man.” Lexie said the words so the listeners could clearly hear.
    Stan’s voice lowered. “Are we still playing My Hometown Boy Ain’t a Murderer?”
    “We sure are. I can’t prove it yet but I know he didn’t do it.”
    “Enlighten me, Sweetheart.”