“Tomorrow morning, ten sharp,” he told her. “After all them Jesus-loving folks get out of their houses and off to the church of their choice.”
Would that give her time to pull together a plan? She had to talk to Braddock first.Damn! Say something!“Okay, but ... you ... you bring proof,” she said, only just thinking of that. “Otherwise you could toss out some random name. I want proof that the person you say killed her actually did it.”
He laughed. “You learning, Doc. You always got to hedge your bets.” All signs of amusement vanished, and he pointed a deadly glare at her. “But you better not be messing with me.”
She started to go but hesitated. “What if it’s you?”
He made a face like he didn’t understand what she meant.
“What if you’re the one who killed her?”
Tension thickened in the room. He didn’t move. Didn’t toss out one of those witty remarks right away.
“Then you better call your preacher, Doc.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you dead, baby.” Their gazes locked. “I’d have to kill you then.”
The door opened, breaking the stare-off.
The goon from the porch stuck his head inside. “You got company, Ty.”
“What the hell,” Tyrone muttered. “Grand damned Central Station ’round here.”
CJ pushed past the goon. She was out of here. She came to an abrupt halt at the steps.
Braddock and Cooper did the same on the sidewalk.
“CJ.” Braddock’s face was pinched in frustration. “What’re you doing?”
Cooper looked from CJ to Braddock and back, obviously confused as well.
The goon moved up behind her. “The King said he ain’t taking no more visitors.”
CJ, taking advantage of the interruption, stamped down the steps and right past Braddock.
“CJ.” He came after her.
She wheeled on him. “Stay away from me.” She held up her hands when that didn’t slow him. “Just stay away.”
Don’t look back. Just move. She hurried to her car, got inside, and drove away.
Jenkins followed her.
She didn’t breathe again until she’d reached her house.
Pressing her forehead against the steering wheel, she fought to catch her breath. She’d done it. Propositioned Tyrone and managed to make her fury at Braddock look real.
Right in front of Tyrone.
Was that luck or what?
But why had Braddock arrived? Had he been looking for her? What was he thinking? Jenkins had probably called him. But he wouldhave had to be close by to get there so quickly. She dug the cell phone from her jeans pocket. Three missed calls from him. She’d been so caught up in the confrontation with Tyrone she hadn’t realized her cell had vibrated.
Just as well. She had accomplished her mission.
Now she needed a shower. She pulled the damp T-shirt from her chest. Tyrone was right. She smelled.
