This was Tabby’s world and she thrived in it.
“His name was David Dean.” As succinctly as possible, he filled her in on the case, her eyebrows going up at the rape/self-defense theory of Dean’s murder and April’s certainty the story wasn’t true.
“I’ve got three names. I need to find out if any of those names are connected to David Dean other than as campaign staffers who worked for him.” He rattled off Peggy Watt, Brad Schweitzer and Collin Rutherford’s names. “You may need to go deep, Tab.”
“No worries, I can handle it. It may take a while, but if there’s smoke, I’ll find the fire.”
“I know you will. Thanks, kiddo. I’ll let myself out.” Which he hadn’t needed to say since Tab’s attention was already focused on the computer screen.
Jonah closed her front door, climbed into the Rover and drove back to the office.
Maybe his trip to the Derby that night would turn up something or at least eliminate possibilities. In the meantime, he hoped Tabby would uncover the one thing he couldn’t seem to find—a motive for David Dean’s murder.
CHAPTER SIX
THEDERBYWASquiet when April walked in a little before seven that evening. With all the smooth dark wood, the long, ornate bar and forest-green accents, the place felt slightly old-fashioned. The racehorse pictures on the walls were a favorite of everyone, and the staff was always friendly.
April recognized the bartender, Ian Van Horne, as she approached. Ian was a good-looking, sandy-haired guy close to her age. He’d asked her out a couple of times, but she was always too busy. The truth was she could never work up any interest.
Ian spotted her and waved. Since she didn’t see Jonah, she headed for the bar and climbed up on one of the green vinyl stools, the skirt of her sleeveless black sheath dress riding up as she settled herself. She pulled the skirt back down as Ian walked over.
He wiped off the bar in front of her. “I heard what happened the other night. Man, that sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“You ask me, the bastard deserved a bullet in the chest. Or maybe you should have aimed lower—shot him in the nuts instead.”
Her mind flashed back to the bedroom, the sheet soaked in bright red blood, and suddenly she felt dizzy. She swayed a little on the bar stool, caught the shadow of a man beside her, felt Jonah’s hand at her waist, steadying her.
“It’s all right. Just take it easy.” He looked over at Ian. “Cut the crap. She doesn’t need that tonight.”
Ian took one look at Wolfe’s dark expression and took a step back. “Sorry.” He turned to April. “I wasn’t thinking, April. I’m sorry.”
She released a shaky breath. “It’s okay. Something like that doesn’t happen every day.”
“What are you drinking?” Ian asked. “It’s on the house for both of you.”
“Thanks, I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay.”
“What about you?” he asked Jonah. “House is buying.”
“Johnnie Walker on the rocks.”
“Coming right up.”
The place was starting to fill, as it usually did this time of night. They moved to a table in the back and Lou, a friendly blonde waitress, came over with Jonah’s drink.
“I heard about the other night,” Lou said to April. “I’m real sorry, hun.”
“Me, too.”
She set the drink on the square oak table. “You know, I always thought that Dean guy was a pretty straight shooter. I wouldn’t have pegged him for one of those scumbags who has to drug a woman to get her in bed.”
“The police aren’t exactly sure what happened.”
Lou glanced at Wolfe, who had definitely snagged her attention. He was wearing black jeans, a navy T-shirt and a lightweight black leather jacket. A shadow of beard darkened his jaw. The man was a walking ad for sex, which Lou didn’t miss.
The woman might be older than Jonah, but she wasn’t dead yet.
