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Nikki waited, her heart drumming. She hadn’t known who the jurors were during the trial and the judge had ordered no cameras in the courtroom. It had been so long ago, she didn’t remember the names…. Slowly, she set the dog down.

“Thank you, Mrs. Massey…Yes, yes, of course I’ll let you know. Good-bye.” He hung up the phone and looked at Morrisette. “Bingo.”

“Shit. Let’s go find him. I’ll call for backup. You get her home or somewhere safe.” Morrisette hitched her chin at Nikki.

“No. I’m coming.”

“Reed isn’t even supposed to be coming,” Morrisette said, whipping out her phone.

“I’ll stay out of the way.”

Morrisette advanced on her. “Look, Gillette, this isn’t your big chance, okay. I don’t know what kind of a deal you worked with him”—she hooked her thumb at Reed and the little d

og growled—“but it doesn’t hold water with me.”

“This isn’t about a story,” Nikki whispered, horrified. “It’s about my friend.”

“I don’t have time to argue,” she growled, then looked at Reed. “Keep her in line.” A second later she was on the phone. Reed, too, had dialed another number. His conversation was short. As he hung up, he said, “That was Beauford Alexander. His wife Pauline served on the jury.”

“That’s three that we know of,” Nikki said, chilled to the bone.

“So Chevalier’s picking off the jurors, one by one?” Morrisette asked. “After he got out on a technicality? Does that make any sense? Doesn’t he know we’ll nail him?”

“He’s spent twelve years fantasizing about this,” Reed said. “My guess is that he doesn’t care.”

“I don’t know. He couldn’t have killed Thomas Massey and Pauline Alexander.”

“Because they were already dead, but if they’d been alive when he was released, they’d be on his hit list.”

“I hate arguing with you,” Morrisette said. “I’ll call the station and get hold of Siebert. We’ll get a unit out here and someone figuring out who was on that jury who’s still alive.”

“If he hasn’t gotten to them in the last couple of days.”

“He hasn’t. He would have bragged,” Nikki said.

“That’s why I think there’s a chance Simone isn’t dead yet.”

Isn’t dead yet. Dear God. The horrid words reverberated through her brain and she inwardly recoiled.

“We have to find her. No matter what.”

“Absolutely.” Reed touched her on the shoulder. “When we find Chevalier, we’ll find your friend.”

“Then, let’s go,” she said.

“She can’t be involved. I’m not arguing about this, you got it?” Morrisette was adamant, her sharp chin jutting forward with authority. “This is serious business. Police business. If you show up and mess things up or get hurt, I can’t be responsible. Oh, hell, Reed, would you deal with this?”

“Nikki, she’s right,” he said, and the hand on her shoulder gripped her a little more tightly. “It’s not safe.”

“I don’t care. Simone’s my friend.”

“All the more reason!” he said sharply. Dropping his hand he looked skyward and ran stiff fingers through his hair. “Look, Nikki, please. You can’t be involved in this, not at this level. It could be dangerous. We’ll drop you off at the station. You’ll be safe there. And I’ll let you know the minute we find her.”

“But—”

“This is the best way for you to help. We’ll need a list of all of Simone Everly’s friends, family and acquaintances. Work friends, siblings, anyone you can think of who might have seen her or know where she is. You can call and ask if anyone’s heard from her, okay?”

“You’re patronizing me,” she accused.


Tags: Lisa Jackson Savannah Mystery