Smash Cut by Sandra Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

heading the investigation?”
“A detective name Homer Sanford.”
“I know him. He’s a good investigator.”
“I suppose,” Wheeler said, shrugging. “So far he hasn’t come through on this case. He had nothing new to report to me earlier today.”
Derek knew the former all-star football player to be a methodical and dogged detective. He was well thought of by his comrades. He was tough only on criminals. If he’d failed to produce, it wasn’t for lack of trying.
“As I understand it,” he said to Wheeler, “all Sanford had to go on was the bullet, and that the ballistics test turned up nothing.”
“That’s right. According to all the databases, the pistol hadn’t been used in a previous crime.”
Derek purposefully let the silence stretch out, waiting to see what Wheeler would say next. Up to this point, he didn’t know why the man had called this urgent meeting. Finally he spoke aloud what had been on his mind since hearing about the shooting. “Seems an odd place for a robbery, doesn’t it? The eighth floor of a hotel.”
Wheeler’s gaze locked on his. “Yes.” Then his eyes skittered away. “It does.”
“Has Detective Sanford mentioned the oddity of it?”
“Not to me.”
“Huh.”
Derek’s jet lag was catching up with him. He didn’t look at his watch, but he could tell by the placement of the sun that it was getting close to quitting time, and his body ached with fatigue. It was time to cut to the chase. “Mr. Wheeler, why did you ask for this meeting?”
“Because I know your reputation as a defense attorney. You’re said to be excellent.”
“Thank you.”
“I want to retain you to represent my family during all this.”
“‘All this’ meaning—”
“The police interviews.”
“They’ve questioned you regarding your brother’s killing?”
He nodded. “Which is routine. Pro forma, I’m told.”
Bullshit . Derek didn’t believe anything the police did was pro forma, and apparently Wheeler didn’t think so, either.
“During these interviews, have you had counsel present?”
“Yes.” Wheeler made a dismissive gesture. “He’s a capable man when it comes to petty lawsuits and traffic tickets. But we felt we needed someone with bigger balls. If you’ll excuse the expression.”
“I do, especially since the referred-to balls are mine.” They shared a grin. “Who’s ‘we’?”
Derek’s follow-up question caught the other man off guard. “I’m sorry?”
“You keep saying ‘we.’ You and who else?”
“My family. My wife and son.”
“I see.” Derek waited for Wheeler to elaborate. He didn’t until he’d taken another gulp from the water bottle.
“Suspicion is automatically cast onto anyone who would benefit from Paul’s death,” he said.
“You?”
“Not specifically. I’m not Paul’s heir. Although I will become CEO of the company, there’s no monetary gain.”
“Your wife?”
“Sharon. As the saying goes, I married well. Sharon’s great- grandfather bought tens of thousands of shares of Coca-Cola stock when the company was young.”
“Congratulations.”
Wheeler smiled wanly. “She isn’t after Paul’s money. Besides, she was at home when he was killed.”
“That leaves your son.”
“Creighton.” He paused, then added, “He’s Paul’s heir.”
Derek leaned back in his chair and gazed at the man for a moment, then said, “If I was a cop, he’s the first person I’d look at, Mr. Wheeler. No offense. I’m being brutally honest with you. The police always follow the money.”
“I understand that. They’re right to do so.”
“How old is Creighton?”
“Twenty-eight.”
Derek had hoped for younger, a minor with less independence and more supervision. “The police aren’t holding him, are they?”
“No, nothing like that. The interviews have been very civil, and took place at our home, not at the police station.”
“That’s good. Counsel was always present?”
“I made sure of that. And, fortunately, Creighton has an ironclad alibi. He was at our house on the tennis court taking a lesson from his private coach at the time of the robbery and shooting. I’d gone home