Page 51 of Tell Me (Savannah 3)

“If,” she repeated.

“You can’t undermine me—”

“I’m not.”

“Or compromise my work in any way, shape, or form.”

“Is that what I’m doing?”

“Just let me do my job,” he said and stalked to the closet, where he found his sport coat hanging between two of her jackets.

“I need to do mine too, Reed.” She looked so earnest and so damned beautiful, with those wild, red-blond curls and that dusting of freckles across her nose, and those green eyes, rounded with sincerity. “Just take me with you. I don’t even need to see her.”

“You’re going to ride all the way up there just to sit in the car?”

Her gaze slid away.

“You want to overhear my conversation with Morrisette.”

“No.” Her eyebrows drew together. “I just need to be a part of it. I’ll sit in the waiting area. Whatever.”

“No dice.” He slid his arms into his blazer. “Tell ya what. I’ll meet you tonight for dinner, and I’ll give you my impressions. No dialogue, nothing like that, just how I feel about the case. And I’ll tell the warden that if Blondell is going to talk to anyone in the press, which I don’t think her attorney will allow, you would be a good candidate.”

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t help. If Jada Hill knows I’m engaged to you, she won’t allow it.” She paused. “But I did do a nice piece on her about four, no maybe five years ago.”

Jada Hill was a local, born and raised in Savannah. “That might work for you.”

“Unlikely.”

Reed didn’t respond, though he silently agreed. Jada was the oldest child in a middle-class African-American family. Through hard work and perseverance, she had put herself through school, graduating summa cum laude from Tulane University before attending law school. She’d married, had a child, divorced, and was back in the workforce.

Nikki touched him on the arm as he headed for the bedroom door. “Reed, I need this.”

“I said I’d put in a good word with the warden and Blondell’s attorney. Other than that, darlin’, you’re on your own.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.

“It’s a curse.” He kissed her on the cheek and ignored the storm of emotions gathering in her eyes, because that could be deadly for him. He found her the sexiest when she was on t

he edge of anger with him, and he didn’t even want to think about what kind of psychological implications that might have, so before his thoughts wandered too far down that erotic path, he said, “Dinner tonight?”

“And now you’re deflecting.”

“Making plans with my bride,” he countered, but the narrowing of her eyes told him she wasn’t buying his story.

“Fine.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “But only if you pay.”

“Something tells me I will, over and over again.”

“You got that right, buddy.” She broke into a small smile despite herself.

Grabbing up his briefcase, he patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys and smartphone and headed out the door.

He was to meet Morrisette at the station, talk briefly with Kathy Okano and probably Deacon Beauregard, then drive out to the prison, where he’d finally meet the woman who had become the center of his work life, the topic of gossip around town, every reporter’s wet dream, and his fiancée’s ultimate fantasy.

He wondered if Blondell would live up to the hype.

All dressed up and nowhere to go, Nikki thought, as she caught her reflection in the mirror. She heard Reed’s old Cadillac fire up and purr out of the parking lot and, looking out the window, caught sight of it lumbering down the alley. “Thanks for nothing,” she said as she let the blinds fall back into position, then gave herself a quick mental shake.

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