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“Says the guy who’s boning her. She doesn’t have an alibi.”
Ryker realized that they may have underestimated Middleton. He might not be the sharpest arrow in the quiver, but he was malicious and territorial.
“I’m the one who reported the murder,” said Lori.
“And what a perfect way to divert suspicion.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” said Ryker.
“Maybe and maybe not, but a case could be made against her.”
“Listen to me, Middleton,” warned Ryker, “if you try to pin this on Lori, I’ll destroy your reputation.”
“That’s slander…”
“Nope. I’ll do it in the paper, which would be libel, but the truth is an absolute defense to a charge of slander or libel.”
“I hate to be the voice of reason when Ryker is defending me, but honestly, Detective Middleton, have you even tried to trace where the typewriter ribbon came from?”
“What is it with you and this damn typewriter ribbon?”
“It’s the murder weapon, you jackass,” said Ryker.
“Babe, please, take a breath. I don’t want you locked up in jail, I have plans for you tonight, and they don’t include some kind of conjugal visit.” She turned back to Middleton. “We talked to Ezra Kane, who seemed almost gleeful that Cobain was dead. And there was a slideshow presentation that showed a picture of him and a woman who sells vintage typewriter ribbons.”
“Hmm, that might be helpful,” said Middleton. “I’ll look into it, but I really have to insist that you both steer clear of my investigation. I’d hate to have to arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
Ryker took her hand. “Come on, babe, we’re out of here. And for the record, Middleton, that charge would never stand up in court, and I’d sue you personally and the department.”
They left the interview room and were headed out the door when he saw Annette chatting with the receptionist. He squeezed Lori’s hand to get her attention, and they both watched as Annette appeared to be dropping off a foil-wrapped plate. Catching their eyes, Annette smiled and waved.
CHAPTER 13
LORI
Ryker pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, circling back so they could park in an alley down and across the street from the police station.
“What the hell was that about?” Lori asked him.
“Not a clue, but it felt weird.”
Lori nodded. “So, what are we doing sitting in an alley watching the station?”
“I’m not sure, but I just want to see when Annette comes out, what she does, and where she goes.”
“Do you think she’s involved in some way?”
“I don’t know. The reporter in me doesn’t like not understanding something. Middleton’s an ass, but why is he grimly determined to let Cobain’s murder go unsolved? I mean, Cobain had a certain level of fame, and yet I haven’t seen anything come across the wire.”
“It’s like Middleton is trying to sweep it under the rug, which doesn’t make sense if he wants to raise his profile either here in town or in the larger police network.”
“Exactly,” said Ryker. “If he wants to be the next police chief, he needs to show at least a certain level of competence in his job.”
“Heads up,” whispered Lori, as the door to the station opened, ducking down so only her head might be seen over the dashboard.
“Babe, they can’t hear you from here, and they could only see you if they were closer and really looking,” Ryker laughed.
She sat up, looked at him and grinned. “Give me a break. I’m new at this cloak and dagger stuff.”
