Melting Point. Debra Cowan
His gaze skated over her body, and reaction clenched her belly.
Why, why, why did she have to feel anything? Determined to ignore the drumming pull of awareness she felt, she started to move next to him and ask if they’d had any responses yet from the prisons. Someone tapped on the microphone situated on the small stage a few feet away, and she paused.
After a few seconds of screeching feedback, Mayor Griffin greeted everyone and encouraged applause for the band as its members left the stage for a break. The mayor then invited everyone’s attention to the newly completed building and this spacious room, which would host community events such as senior citizen exercise classes or the citizens’ police academy.
The shiny wooden stage steps were trimmed with the same blue-and-gray flecked carpet that covered the floor and complemented the blue walls. The large space, which could be partitioned off to make four rooms, sparkled with the shine of newness. After a few moments the mayor introduced everyone who had worked on the community center’s planning committee.
When he introduced prominent criminal defense attorney Raye Ballinger, Trey Vance said, loud enough for their small circle, “I can’t believe they let her serve on the committee. The best thing the ‘Ball Basher’ could do for Presley would be to leave.”
Mayor Griffin turned the program over to Raye for her comments, and Kiley grimaced, unsure about what to expect from the woman. She’d had dealings with the dogged attorney in court.
Raye Ballinger was dressed to kill in a dramatic off-the-shoulder black-and-white gown with black elbow-length gloves. Her blond hair was piled atop her head; light caught the sparkling necklace and matching earrings she wore. From what Kiley had heard, the attorney earned enough to afford real diamonds.
“The city probably paid for those earrings and that necklace,” Kristin said behind her.
“We’re probably still paying.” Trey’s voice was low. “You know, her brother committed suicide several months back. Everyone expected her to sue the city, and sure enough, she instigated a lawsuit last month.”
Raye Ballinger had also brought a suit against Presley about three years ago for a policeman who said he’d been fired unfairly. She had intimidated every witness she could, and Kiley had the scars to prove it. She hadn’t folded under the lawyer’s sharklike attack, but others had. The woman was relentless to the point of cruelty, and Kiley had never liked her.
It appeared no one in this small circle did, either. Raye had once ripped Kiley to shreds on the witness stand during a rape case. She hated to think what the woman might have done if they’d been alone.
“If that lawsuit gets to court, there’s no justice,” Clay Jessup said to Collier.
Kiley glanced over at the two men. “What happened with her brother?”
“Last spring—April, I think—we got a call about a house fire,” Collier said. “Three stations responded and were able to get to the guy by using the ladder, but as they climbed down, he took a dive. It was Ballinger’s brother.”
“I remember.” She thought back to the coverage, done to the point of saturation, by local television stations as well as Presley’s and Oklahoma City’s newspapers. “It was pretty awful.”
“I guess the scene turned ugly,” Jessup said. “Shelby said Ballinger went ballistic, blaming everyone around.”
“She talked to the mayor right after it happened.” Kristin tucked her hair behind her ear. “But no one heard anything else until she filed the lawsuit.”
Collier shook his head. “I don’t see that she has grounds. Jamie Ballinger tried to kill himself by torching that house, and when that didn’t work, he jumped from the ladder. Everyone did their jobs. There was no negligence.”
“Well,” Clay said. “Skip Dickens was a known drunk with DUIs on record, and she got him reinstated, plus his back pay and a two-million-dollar settlement out of Presley.”
His reminder about the policeman Raye Ballinger had represented came as the lawyer finished her remarks. Applause swelled throughout the large room.
Kiley watched as the woman stepped down from the stage and moved through the crowd, stopping here and there to speak to people. She had a reputation for disliking cops. Evidently, hose draggers were on her list, too.
Clay asked Kristin to dance and the pair moved to the center of the room. Trey and Shelby followed.
“Looks like we’re alone at last,” Collier drawled with a twinkle in his eye that said he knew he made Kiley jumpy.
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