Page 4 of Diamonds in the Mud

“Detain her,” I called out, shaking my head and blinking a few dozen times. “Handcuff her if you have to,” I yelled as I rubbed my eyes to force them to focus again. When I could see more than a few inches in front of my face again, I turned back to my job.

Sharon was dressed in a bathrobe. The sexy kind, not your average stay-at-home-and-watch-a-movie-on-the-weeknight kind. The kind that said, “You’ll like what’s underneath.”

I pulled the pen out of my pocket and nudged the silk aside. Yup, more silk in hot pink underneath.

I glanced up at the door when I heard shouting, which brought a few questions to mind. Where were their twin boys, Beau and Wyatt. Did they still live at home? I’d gone to school with them. They’d been stars in every sport and members of every club in school, while I’d been a shy kid who had enjoyed dissecting lab animals and working hard for both of my black belts, but I still knew almost everything there was to know about the two most popular boys in my class. Maybe that was the reason that Owen, a blond clean-cut super-jock, wasn’t my type? The brothers fit that mold and were, well, spoiled brats.

Why in the hell was the husband just getting home? Were they separated? I hadn’t heard any rumors about it. Then again, I wasn’t the gossiping type.

I jotted down a few questions in my notepad as I glanced around the room. I stood up and started to head further into the room but stopped when I heard a car door slam outside. I moved towards the door, trying not to slip in the water from the flowers or crush any more roses under my boots.

“Damn it, Owen,” I barked when I saw a dark sedan peel out of the driveway.

“She’s a slippery one,” Owen said with a smirk. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Shit, boss, Sabrina’s not going anywhere.” He held up a camera.

“Sabrina?” I asked. “Since when are you and DeRouen on a first-name basis?” I narrowed my eyes as Owen looked guiltily at me.

Sabrina DeRouen was the town’s hottest on-scene reporter. I’d known the woman for as long as I could remember. She was by far the nosiest person in town. Well, right behind me. At any rate, she had a reputation for not letting up on anything she sank her teeth into. I was the same way, which is why I made a damned good investigations lieutenant.

“How in the hell did she know what’s going on here?” I asked.

Owen shrugged. “She said she got a tip that she should head out here from an anonymous caller. I took her camera so we should be good.”

I reached up and flipped open the back of the Canon camera. “Yeah, she played you.” I pointed out that the SD card slot was empty.

“Shit.” Owen ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry, boss.”

“Was that Sharon?” Henry Taylor asked from where he sat on one of the cushioned lounge chairs on the massive porch. “Who would have done such a thing to her?” The man ran his hands through his hair.

Henry Taylor was a lot like his sons. Fit, blonde, and for a man his age, very good-looking. Both the Taylors had been fit to my recollection. The rumors were they were looking to buy the twenty-four-hour gym that sat on the outskirts of town.

“Bag that,” I told Owen, motioning towards the camera. “You’re batting zero, buddy,” I warned him. “I’ll have your badge if you don’t…” Owen’s eyebrows shot up and I sighed. “Just because your daddy is the damned deputy chief of police doesn’t mean I can’t send you to the hole and have you filing papers for the rest of your life,” I hissed, and then I walked over and sat next to Henry.

“Mr. Taylor, do you know who I am?” I asked firmly.

The man wiped his eyes with his hands and then nodded. “Detective Rayne.”

I nodded. “Then you know my reputation around town.” It was meant as a warning, but I could see by the way the man was looking at me that he’d taken it as a promise that I’d catch whoever did this to his wife. “Want to tell me exactly where you were?” He frowned as he looked down into his hands. “Where did you just come from?” I switched tactics.

“The Bayou,” Henry mumbled.

Bayou Brews and Blues was one of the many dive bars in town. I knew for a fact that it closed down at one each morning.

I made a show of glancing at my watch slowly. It was a quarter past eight, which meant that the man had been MIA for more than seven hours.

“I…” Henry jerked his gaze up and then added, “Stayed late.”

“With?” I asked, understanding his meaning. The handful of waitresses that worked at Bayou’s did more than flirt. And since I’d noticed his disheveled appearance when he’d barged into the house, it was very obvious that the man had spent the night in someone’s bed.

Henry’s eyes jerked up towards mine. “You don’t need…” He stopped when my eyebrows arched, then he glanced towards the front door. “This can’t get out. It will ruin…” He dropped off, his eyes still on the door. “Shit.”

I could see that he’d realized that his marriage had come to a crashing end already. Not because of a scandal stemming from an affair, but because his wife was lying in pieces just inside the front door of their home.

“Yeah, shit,” I agreed. “Who?” I asked again.

“Faye,” he said finally with a sigh. “Faye Baker. She and I… Well, Sharon and I… we had an understanding.” He broke off as a tear slid down his cheek. It wasn’t the fake kind either. I’d seen plenty over the years and could tell.

“Right. Do you happen to know who your wife was with last night, for her end of the understanding?” I asked.