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“They’re probably here to discourage the media from storming the castle.” She gave it a moment’s thought, then said, “I have an idea. Pull up and get out like we’re expected.”
He parked at the curb directly behind the police car. As soon as he cut his engine, two officers alighted and approached their car from each side.
“Your idea doesn’t include jail time, does it?” he asked.
“I hope not.” She pushed open her car door and got out, smiling brightly at the policemen. “Hello. We’re here to see Mr. Collier.”
One of the officers said, “Sorry, ma’am. His house is off limits to visitors.”
“But we have an appointment.”
“You media?”
“Hardly,” she said around a light laugh. “We’re personal acquaintances.”
One officer squinted at her, looking more closely. “Aren’t you the lady who wrote the book?”
“That’s right. Mr. Collier helped me when I was researching the legal aspects of it.”
The two officers exchanged a look across the hood of her sedan. The one standing nearer to Dent stared into his face as though trying to see past the dark lenses of his sunglasses so he could determine the reason for the bruises. Dent acted supremely unfazed by the scrutiny.
Turning back to address her, the cop said, “Mr. Collier didn’t mention to us that he expected anybody this evening.”
“Well in light of his getting beat up, our appointment might have slipped his mind. Wasn’t that just awful?” She flattened her hand against her chest. “I hope y’all catch the person who assaulted him.”
“You can bet we will, ma’am.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of it. In any case, I’m sure Rupe… uh, Mr. Collier… will want to see us. In fact, he asked for the meeting. I have some vital information for him about Dale Moody and Jim Postlewhite.”
Dent, who was standing in the open wedge of the driver’s door, jerked his head in her direction, but his surprised reaction went unnoticed by the two police officers, who were fixated on her.
One gave his partner an inquisitive look, and when his partner said, “Better let him know,” the first said, “Wait here,” and started up the walk toward the house.
Bellamy smiled up at the other, the one who’d recognized her. “Have you read Low Pressure?”
“My wife bought it when she read that it was based on a true crime that occurred here. Must be good. She hasn’t put it down since she started it.”
Bellamy smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
While engaged in this conversation, she was also well aware of the one taking place at the front door of Rupe’s house. After a brief exchange, the officer made a gesture as though tipping his hat to Rupe, then he turned away from the door and motioned them forward. “He says it’s okay.”
After thanking the officer with whom she’d been chatting, Bellamy went around the hood of the car, and she and Dent started up the walk. Under his breath, he asked, “When did you become an eyelash-batting, breathless Texas belle?”
“When I needed to.”
“Why haven’t you ever tried it on me?”
“Because I didn’t need to.”
“And who the hell is Jim Postlewhite?”
“Trust me.”
That was all she had time to say. They were now within earshot of the front door, where Rupe Collier stood waiting. The damage done to his face was so extensive that if he hadn’t peeled back his swollen lips and smiled, he would have been unrecognizable. The teeth were unmistakable even rooted in red, puffy gums.
“Well, well, look who the cat dragged in!” The false bonhomie was for the benefit of the police officer, who stood aside for Bellamy and Dent so they could proceed across the threshold and into the two-story vestibule. “Thank you, Officer.”
Rupe waved him off and closed the front door, then turned to them, his smile still in place. “You thought I’d be angry, didn’t you? Fit to be tied that you finagled your way in here?” Laughing, he shook his head. “Actually, I’m tickled to see you. Come in.”
