Murder Deja Vu

bankruptcy.
    “That surly bartender didn’t like me,” Klugh said. “He told me he’d never seen the guy before and didn’t get a good look at him anyway. If you want Daughtry, someone else showing up with the Johnson woman could sure ruin your case, Mr. DA. So you’d better be prepared. That’s enough for reasonable doubt. But you know that.” Klugh slid out of the booth. “Be seeing you, Robert. Good luck.” He headed toward the door.
    Robert sat in disbelief. Klugh didn’t bite. Why? Had he switched sides? Robert needed him like he needed him in Charlotte and all the times in between. He was younger then, ambitious. He didn’t know to what lengths Klugh would go and almost croaked when the prosecution’s witness failed to appear. Accusations leveled at both Robert and his client tainted the firm. Innuendo was enough to get him fired if Robert hadn’t already learned how to play the game. Always stay one step ahead. Get the goods on friends and enemies alike. Robert had known the skeletons in his boss’s closet, and the man had allowed Robert to resign rather than call his bluff. He left the firm, leaving no more than whispers behind.
    It worked out for the best. The position of district attorney better suited his talents. He put away bad guys and people applauded. Robert liked the sound of applause. He liked to win.
    Klugh had let him down. Robert called the waitress and ordered a beer. He needed to think.
    Then he saw the diner door open and Klugh slithered back to his seat.
    “Change your mind?”
    Klugh flicked his tongue across his front teeth. “Depends how much it’s worth to you.”

Chapter Fifteen
Dana Exposed

    D ana waited all day for Jeraldine’s call. She couldn’t write, couldn’t read. Couldn’t think. She thought of Reece in a cell alone, and from what Jeraldine said, more than distraught. By early evening, she was beside herself. When the phone rang, she picked it up before the first ring ended.
    “He’s out and home,” Jeraldine said. “But don’t go there.”
    “Why?”
    “More than likely, he’ll sleep outside tonight, even if it’s cold, even if it’s raining. He did that for a long time after he got out of prison. He said he wanted to look up at the stars to make sure he wasn’t in a cage. Give him this night, Dana. Remember, this is about Reece.”
    Dana finally acquiesced, and it took every ounce of strength to follow through. She fought sleep all night long and woke in the dark. After she showered and dressed, she brewed a full pot of coffee and emptied it into a thermos. She made turkey sandwiches from a package in the fridge, gathered fruit, muffins, chips, cups, and napkins, packed them in a picnic basket, and got into her Jeep.
    Pulling into Reece’s yard, Dana saw his silhouette sitting in the chair on the dock, facing the water. The ceiling of dark sky signaled at least an hour till sunrise. She opened the door of the Jeep and wrapped her sweater around her as a cool breeze flooded the car. The faint aroma of burning wood from someone’s chimney hung low in the air, and she breathed it in, an aphrodisiac to remind her how much she loved the mountains. A cacophony of barking that would have wakened the dead surrounded her as she got out. Reece didn’t react. Dana bent down and petted the menagerie begging attention, which seemed to placate them. Then she took the picnic basket and headed down the stairs to the dock, followed by her welcoming committee.
    “You shouldn’t have come,” he said without turning around.
    “How’d you know it was me?”
    “I’d know your step anywhere. It’s delicate, and the dogs like you. That was friendly barking.”
    She reached his chair, put the basket down, and plunked cross-legged on the dock like she had that first day. Only this morning the floor was damp and cold. She’d be wet when she got up. Pooch and two others buried her in affection, licked her face, and poked their noses around the basket. She didn’t shoo them away.
    A haze of pink blurred the horizon, casting a dim light onto Reece. He looked tired and worn out, the creases in his face more pronounced. A beer sat on the arm of the chair, his hand wrapped around it. Off to the side lay a crumpled sleeping bag. He kept his eyes straight ahead.
    “I brought coffee and food.”
    He still didn’t look.
    “Why shouldn’t I have come?”
    “Remember I said I had moods? I’m in one and didn’t want you to see it.” He turned and studied her