“I’m sorry, that’s my business. I’m an investigative journalist. Sometimes researching the subject matter involves a certain amount of risk.”
Galen blew out a frustrated breath. “You and Garrett, you’re a real pair.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
The detective shook his head. He’d been asking her the same questions for the last half hour, getting exactly the same answers. “All right, you can go. Just don’t leave the area. We might have more questions for you.”
“Fine.”
Bran was sitting on a bench along the wall waiting for her when she walked out of the interview room. She smiled. “We can go.”
He smiled back, clearly relieved. When they arrived at the SUV and climbed in, there was a note under the windshield wiper on the driver’s side. Bran reached around and grabbed the slip of white paper.
“What’s it say?” Jessie asked.
“‘You want info on Weaver, meet me at the Rooster, at ten o’clock tonight.’ There’s a cross at the bottom and the initial G.”
She leaned over to read the note. “It’s supposed to be a grave. Gravedigger. Harley Graves.”
He nodded. “He must have seen the news and heard they were looking for me, figured I’d come in to talk to the sheriff sooner or later.”
“The Red Rooster. I’ve driven past it. Kind of a seedy country Western bar.” She grinned. “Looks like we’re going honky-tonkin’ tonight.”
Bran cast her a glance, clearly unhappy with the idea. “I can’t leave you alone so I guess you’re right.”
Since it sounded like Graves might have useful information and she was tired of being cooped up in the hotel room, no matter how roomy it was, she was looking forward to the evening.
On the other hand, Petrov was dead. Whoever killed him was likely still after her.
“You think it could be a trap?”
Bran turned the corner, checking the mirror and taking a roundabout route as he drove back to the hotel. “It’s possible. But Graves’s note mentioned Weaver. If Weaver killed Petrov for not getting the job done, then he’s probably gunning for Graves, too.”
“How does Graves know we’re looking for Weaver?”
“Either Petrov told him or he heard me asking Petrov about him that night.”
“So you think Graves might be willing to trade information in exchange for our help.”
“Could be.”
It was crazy. Helping a man who’d been trying to kill her. Or at least hurt her badly enough to convince her to stop her investigation. But the way things were going, nothing surprised her.
Her stomach growled, reminding her they hadn’t eaten breakfast, and it was well past noon. “I’m starving. Let’s stop and get something to eat.”
Bran cut her a look. “Yeah...I’m hungry, too.” But the hunger in his eyes as they fixed on her mouth had nothing to do with food. Her insides curled. Maybe staying at home tonight wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.
