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Not at Liberty

Marva Dale is the pen name for author Debra McReynolds. Retired from the public relations field, Debra now spends her free time indulging in her passion for writing. "I used to fill my school notebooks with stories," Debra relates, "and then add artwork to go along with them. My second grade teacher, Mrs. Daley, predicted that I would be a writer one day." A fan of the mystery genre, she enjoys crafting tales with a twist of suspense, a touch of romance, and a bit of humor. Debra and her husband, Dale, make their home in El Paso, Texas, with their dog, cats and rabbits. Sexy, black lawyer, Liberty Sloane is asked to defend a deaf public relations executive accused of killing a well-known physician. Dr. Daniel Baumgard, known for his philanthropy, just opened a new shelter for abused women, although he also ran a women’s healthcare clinic that offers abortions. Madeline Kime promoted the doctor’s endeavors through her PR agency while harboring deep secrets concerning the Baumgard family, including the doctor’s son, Rhett, a congressman, and his socialite wife, Savannah. So who hated the doctor enough to stab him in the foyer of his own home? Liberty has a number of suspects on her list, including a pro-life group, not to mention the additional crimes of stolen clinic files and a blackmail scheme. To complicate matters, she has to fend off the advances of one-time boyfriend Preston Durrell, a private detective, while entertaining a new romance with the officer on the case, Sergeant Byron Keats. Worse, Liberty planned a Caribbean vacation with her BFFs, but has to postpone it in order to defend her client for murder one.

Marva Dale · Urbain
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67 Chs

Chapter 14

Now as she concentrated on typing up her notes, Liberty just barely noticed a dark figure who had stopped at her table, his broad form casting a shadow over her laptop.Glancing up, she found Byron Keats staring down at her.

"Oh, hello, Detective Keats," Liberty acknowledged with a slight look of surprise."Fancy meeting you here."

"I stopped by your office, and your assistantMs. Alvin, I believetold me you had stepped out for a coffee break and that I might find you here."

"It's Alvarez, Corey Alvarez."When she returned to the office, Liberty planned to tell Corey not to be so forthcoming with information from now on, although if the detective had been determined to find her, he would simply call her since Liberty had provided him with her cell phone number last night.

Now as she discreetly closed her notebook, she glanced at the vacant chair across from her."Care to join me?"

"Yes, I will."Keats took a seat, the only person in the shop beside the employees without a requisite beverage.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"Not right now.I just had a diet Coke."He regarded her with his dark eyes, his teal shirt a bright compliment to his otherwise monochromatic wardrobe of black chinos and a tailored jacket of some shiny ebony material.As a lock of stray, dark hair fell to his brow, he absently swiped it away."So, are you playing hooky this afternoon, Ms. Sloane?"

She offered a friendly smile."Sometimes I like to get out of the office and just relax."

"I hear ya."

"So, what can I do for you, detective?"

"Well, it's like this, Ms. Sloane."

"Please call me Liberty."

"All right, Liberty.I interviewed Dr. Baumgard's staff this morning and I found out through the office manager that the doctor had received a threatening text on his cell phone a few days ago.He let Mrs. Simpson know that he planned to consult you about this text since you serve as a volunteer on his foundation board and offer legal advice from time to time.That information was verified by the private investigator Dr. Baumgard hired, Preston Durrell.Interesting though"

Keats leaned in and gave her a penetrating look."We made a thorough search of the doctor's office at the clinic and also at his home, and we have yet to come across his cell phone.Mrs. Simpson gave us the doctor's phone number, that is to say, his personal number for his personal phone.But when we call it, we get only his voice mail."

Keats' gaze strayed to Liberty's purple leatherette purse sitting beside her on the table."You wouldn't have accidently taken the phone and put it in your handbag?"

"No, sir."Donning a sweet smile, she offered him an innocent bat of her eyelashes.Her actions had been deliberate, not accidental.Last night she had placed the phone in the pocket of her jeans, and then transferred it to her briefcase this morning, bypassing her purse altogether.

"Because you know," he continued, "that we consider the phone as evidence, and if you're withholding evidence we can arrest you."

Like Rhett Baumgard, Keats used the inclusive term of "we."Liberty assumed he meant the sheriff's department en toto, unless he had a more inclusive relationship with his partner, Gloria Serrano.

Liberty's smile never faltered."Yes, sergeant, I'm aware of that."

"It's also a breach of ethics and you could be disbarred."

"I'm aware of that, too."

Keats cracked a small but potent smile."But we could avoid all that by a simple confession.You know, honesty is the best policy."

"And I agree, sergeant."A few seconds ticked by as they faced off, neither one relenting in their position of power.

Finally the detective sat back and sighed."Okay.This isn't getting us anywhere.I could subpoena you, but I hate the paperwork.Instead, why don't you join me for dinner and we can continue negotiations.I'll even spring for the wine."

Liberty donned a knowing smile."Ah, I see.Your new police methods:get a potential witness drunk and ply all of her secrets out of her.You must be related to our District Attorney R. C. Jeffries."

"Never met the guy.So, what do you say?"

"Well, it's highly unusual"She frowned for a moment as she thought of the legal implications, although she found none that would deter or prohibit her from sharing a simple repast with the detective. "But as far as I know it's not a breach of ethics."

"I guess not."He absently rubbed the scar on his chin."Do you like Spanish food, Ms. Sloane...Liberty?"

"I don't think I've ever tried it, sergeant," she confessed."Do you cook?"

Keats chuckled."Hardly!I'm a complete idiot in the kitchen, but I do appreciate good food.And I recommend Café de Toreador."

Liberty nodded."Oh, yes, I know of it.The restaurant critic at the Post gave the place a five-star rating."Then she narrowed her gaze to regard him with a curious look."As for your offer, I suppose I could hardly refuse, because if I do, you might arrest me."

"Not if you come quietly, say around seven.I'll meet you at restaurant, unless you'd prefer otherwise."

As he offered a broad smile, his upper lip curled at a rakish angle.To Liberty it gave him a rather sensual, bad-boy appeal."No, that's fine."

"Good."Without further discussion, Keats rose and pushed in his chair."See ya, Ms. Sloane."

"Liberty," she reminded him.

He grinned."We'll see."With that, he ambled off to the entrance/exit door of the coffee shop.

For a few seconds, Liberty stared out the window and absently nibbled on her thumb.She never expected anything like what just happened.In fact, what just happened?She had been mildly threatened and asked out to dinner at the same time.And what did she know about this Byron Keats?Basically nothing, but he certainly piqued her curiosity to know more.Actually, Liberty had planned to take her first sign language lesson tonight with Brandon, but Sergeant Keats' invitation took priority since it involved the welfare of her clients.Plus, she hoped to learn more about Dr. Baumgard's death.Sure, she could call the coroner's office and request an official report, but she preferred to get the detective's account and his opinion.So, their "dinner date" would be more of a working meeting, and as far as Liberty knew such an arrangement did not violate any code of ethics or pose a threat to her livelihood.

Now she had only one personal dilemma to solve:what to wear tonight.In fact, what did one wear to a Spanish dinner with a cop, and a rather sexy one at that?