Shaft moved in closer, his face inches from hers. From ten feet away, the microphone picked up his raised voice. “I want you off my property. Now.”

Lisa didn’t budge. She pushed her nose into the air and glared into his eyes. “Stand back, Mr. Shaft.”

The pain in Shaft’s ribs seemed to be forgotten and he reached up and wrapped both hands around her throat. He squeezed, not too tight, but Lisa found it hard to breathe.

“Get your hands off me,” she managed to say.

He dropped his hands from her neck and grabbed her by the upper arm. “Get out of here,” he said, pointing toward the street with his other hand.

She continued to glare, unmoving.

He tugged at her arm, swung her away from the wall, and pushed her sideways with both hands. She lost her balance, tottered a moment, then tumbled off the edge of the porch and landed in a heap on the grass at Don’s feet.

The cameraman stepped back and kept the camera trained on Shaft as the angry man leaped off the porch and approached him. Don took another step back, then another, moving steadily toward the street while the red light glowed.

Shaft stopped and stood still, his fists clenched at his side.

Lisa scrambled to her feet and moved safely out of the way as Shaft strode back to the house, stepped inside, and slammed the door behind him.

She knew there was a constant threat of danger in being an investigative journalist, especially a world-class one like herself, and she wasn’t averse to receiving the occasional bruise for the sake of the story.

She was relatively unhurt, feeling triumphant as she walked to the van. Things went much better than she could ever have hoped for.

Don shut down the camera, tucked it safely into the back of the vehicle, and helped Lisa climb into the front seat.

He went around to the driver side, hopped in, started the vehicle, and pulled away from the curb as Lisa picked up her cell phone and called the police.

She had to report an assault.

Chapter 42

Thursday, 3:56 p.m.

HANK WAS TAKING a breather in the break room, trying in vain to enjoy a cup of some of the worst coffee ever made, when King poked his head through the doorway.

“Forensic report on Norton is in. You might want to see this. Some interesting stuff.”

Hank jumped up, dumped the last half of the foul liquid in the sink, and went to his desk to join King.

He sat down, pulled up his chair, slid his copy of the report toward him, and flipped it open. “What’s so interesting?”

“Second page,” King said, as he leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Near the bottom.”

Hank flipped to page two and scanned the bottom half of the sheet. He sat forward. “They found yellow, nylon rope fibers on both sleeves of Norton’s shirt as well as minor bruising on his wrists, suggesting he might’ve been tied.”

“Which means Nancy was probably right,” King added. “Norton was sitting, maybe tied to a chair, when he was shot.”

Hank looked at King and slapped the desk. “That’s it.”

King looked up from the report. “That’s what?”

“The rope. I saw a yellow, nylon rope in the back of Rocky Shaft’s truck when I went to his house to interview him last night.”

“You searched his truck?”

“Nope. It was in plain sight. I didn’t touch a thing.”

King sat forward and looked intently at Hank. “That might be enough for a warrant,” he said.

“Should be. See what you can do. Get a warrant to seize Shaft’s truck as well as for a search of the house. Make sure you include his lack of an alibi for the time of his brother’s murder as well as for the time of Norton’s murder. And mention the bank withdrawal. I don’t want this to fail for want of evidence.”

King stood and hurried to his desk. Hank knew King would have to fill out some paperwork, but the search warrant should be a cinch and not take long to process.

Hank studied the rest of the report. Nothing else was revealed he didn’t already know or presume.

He looked up when King approached his desk. “Got the paperwork done, but I just got some more interesting news.” King grinned. “Shaft is cooling in a holding cell. He’s been arrested for assaulting Lisa Krunk.”

“Lisa Krunk?” Hank said. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine. No damage done. He probably hurt her pride more than anything else.”

Hank laughed. “Lisa and Shaft are two people you don’t want in a room together. That is, unless you want sparks to fly.”

“You can bet Lisa egged him on,” King said.

“I have no doubt about that.”

King shrugged. “She might drop the charges. Knowing Lisa, she’ll make a deal with him. She has it all on video, and I doubt if he’ll be able to worm out of this one.” He turned. “I’d better go,” he said, and strode toward the door.

Hank had a choice to make. Now that Shaft was in custody, he was free to question him as much as he wanted—that is, unless Shaft asked for a lawyer. Or he could wait until the search of Shaft’s truck was complete. Then he might have the heavy guns he needed to get a confession.

Half an hour later, King was back. A willing judge had signed the order and the search would commence immediately. King had given the investigators instructions to make an inspection of the truck their first priority and report back to him ASAP.

“Let’s talk to Shaft,” Hank said. “If CSI finds what I think they’re going to, it won’t take them long.”

Hank had Shaft brought up to the interview room. He gathered up the folders from his desk and he and King went down the hall and entered the room.

Rocky Shaft scowled and glared up at Hank. “This is a load of crap,” he said. “That woman pushed me too far.”

“From what I understand, you’re the one who did the pushing,” Hank said, as he took a seat and dropped the folders on the metal table.

“Sure I did. But she’s not hurt in the least. Maybe her pride, but I’m the victim here.” Shaft leaned back, folded his arms, and shook his head in frustration. “Maybe you should arrest her.”

“How are you a victim?” King asked, leaning in.

“She accused me of killing my brother.”

“Did you?”

Shaft gave King a black look then glared at Hank. “I can sue her for slander.”

Hank shrugged. “That’s up to you, but we can’t arrest her for that. It’s a civil matter and you’ll have to work that out with your lawyer.”

“I don’t need a lawyer.” He spoke in a loud voice, the extra effort causing him to hold his side and grimace. He was obviously in some discomfort.

“You might need a lawyer after this,” Hank said. “If the crown pursues assault charges, they can do so without Lisa’s approval.”

“It’s all bogus,” Shaft said. He leaned forward and spoke in a calmer voice. “Can’t you see that?”

“Maybe it is,” King said. “But murder isn’t.” He paused as his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, looked at the caller ID, and grinned. “I’ll be right back.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Hank leafed through the folders as Shaft watched him curiously. Finally, the suspect spoke. “What’s in those folders you keep looking at?”

“Evidence,” Hank said.

“What kind of evidence?”

Hank didn’t answer. He continued to study the papers as he waited for King.

Finally, the door opened and King stepped in. Hank saw the good news on the detective’s face as he took a seat beside Hank, leaned forward, and placed his arms on the desk.

“Can you tell me how Michael Norton’s blood got into the back of your truck?” King asked.

Shaft looked bewildered and he stared at King. “What’re you talking about?”

King leaned in and pointed a finger at the suspect. “You murdered Michael Norton, dragged him to a spot by the railroad tracks, and dumped him there.”