Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) by Olivia Jaymes Page A
Authors: Olivia Jaymes
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background of life wearing earth tones.
“I am tired after working all day,” she said pointedly. “If we could get this over with I would be glad.”
“As I said we appreciate your cooperation.” Griffin nodded toward Jazz. “This young woman is Jazz Oliver, one of my deputies in training. We’re both going to be asking you a few questions.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed and her cheeks turned pink. “I’ve heard about the reality show being filmed in town.” Her hands seem to flutter around and finally landed on the sofa cushions. “You’re not filming this, are you?”
“No. We’re not filming or recording,” Griffin assured her. She seemed somewhat mollified but still nervous.
Griffin nodded for Jazz to begin. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her voice and tried to control her madly beating heart. This was worse than opening night jitters.
“Mrs. Charlock, when you gave your statement to the police you said that Casey and Buddy had broken up. Were they in contact with each other at all?”
“Not that I know of, but Casey was an adult and I didn’t interfere in her life.” Margaret shook her head but her right hand had swung up to cover the base of her throat. “She had lots of boyfriends. I didn’t pay much attention, honestly.”
That statement caught Griffin’s attention apparently. “Was she dating anyone else at the same time she was dating Buddy? Or afterward?”
The woman’s hand stayed right where it was giving Jazz a front row seat to a woman who just might be lying. She at least felt vulnerable. Her body language was screaming it even if she didn’t verbally say it.
“She dated a lot,” Margaret insisted. “There were always boys hanging around. I didn’t get all of their names.”
“She dated someone after Buddy?” Jazz asked, watching the woman closely.
“I really don’t know for sure.” Margaret shook her head but her gaze was darting around the room as if she didn’t want to look them in the eye. “My daughter lived her own life.”
Anger churned in Jazz’s gut at the indifferent statement from the clearly non-grieving mother.
“She was nineteen,” Jazz snapped. “Still a teenager. I doubt she lived her own life by choice. She was a young girl who needed her mother.”
Margaret’s mouth fell open and a cold expression crossed her face. “Are you questioning my parenting? Who do you think you are?” the woman said frostily.
If Griffin had any ideas about halting this line of questioning, Jazz never gave him a chance. She was too far gone to remember his instructions despite the warning bells ringing in her own ears.
“I’m someone who understands your daughter, that’s who. She was nineteen , Mrs. Charlock. Not far from a child and she lived under your roof. Are you saying you have no idea what she did the last few days of her life? That you haven’t given it any thought since she died?”
“That’s enough, Jazz,” Griffin cut in, his voice sharp and commanding. Her voice died but the righteous anger she’d felt was still stirring inside. The back of her neck was hot and she could hear her pulse pound as if someone with a snare drum was sitting and playing in this colorless living room.
“I’m sorry about Ms. Oliver, Margaret. She’s still in training and can get carried away. Please continue. We appreciate your understanding.”
Jazz doubted Margaret Charlock appreciated anything about them at the moment. Her face had turned a peculiar shade of purple, probably with anger, and her shoulders seemed to shake.
She jumped to her feet and went over by the sliding glass doors to look out, ignoring both of them. Griffin’s lips had formed a grim line and Jazz knew she was in for an ass chewing when they left. She’d done the opposite of what he’d asked but being friends with this woman simply wasn’t something she was capable of doing.
“The last day I saw Casey she said she wanted me to meet someone. A new boyfriend.” Margaret’s
“I am tired after working all day,” she said pointedly. “If we could get this over with I would be glad.”
“As I said we appreciate your cooperation.” Griffin nodded toward Jazz. “This young woman is Jazz Oliver, one of my deputies in training. We’re both going to be asking you a few questions.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed and her cheeks turned pink. “I’ve heard about the reality show being filmed in town.” Her hands seem to flutter around and finally landed on the sofa cushions. “You’re not filming this, are you?”
“No. We’re not filming or recording,” Griffin assured her. She seemed somewhat mollified but still nervous.
Griffin nodded for Jazz to begin. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her voice and tried to control her madly beating heart. This was worse than opening night jitters.
“Mrs. Charlock, when you gave your statement to the police you said that Casey and Buddy had broken up. Were they in contact with each other at all?”
“Not that I know of, but Casey was an adult and I didn’t interfere in her life.” Margaret shook her head but her right hand had swung up to cover the base of her throat. “She had lots of boyfriends. I didn’t pay much attention, honestly.”
That statement caught Griffin’s attention apparently. “Was she dating anyone else at the same time she was dating Buddy? Or afterward?”
The woman’s hand stayed right where it was giving Jazz a front row seat to a woman who just might be lying. She at least felt vulnerable. Her body language was screaming it even if she didn’t verbally say it.
“She dated a lot,” Margaret insisted. “There were always boys hanging around. I didn’t get all of their names.”
“She dated someone after Buddy?” Jazz asked, watching the woman closely.
“I really don’t know for sure.” Margaret shook her head but her gaze was darting around the room as if she didn’t want to look them in the eye. “My daughter lived her own life.”
Anger churned in Jazz’s gut at the indifferent statement from the clearly non-grieving mother.
“She was nineteen,” Jazz snapped. “Still a teenager. I doubt she lived her own life by choice. She was a young girl who needed her mother.”
Margaret’s mouth fell open and a cold expression crossed her face. “Are you questioning my parenting? Who do you think you are?” the woman said frostily.
If Griffin had any ideas about halting this line of questioning, Jazz never gave him a chance. She was too far gone to remember his instructions despite the warning bells ringing in her own ears.
“I’m someone who understands your daughter, that’s who. She was nineteen , Mrs. Charlock. Not far from a child and she lived under your roof. Are you saying you have no idea what she did the last few days of her life? That you haven’t given it any thought since she died?”
“That’s enough, Jazz,” Griffin cut in, his voice sharp and commanding. Her voice died but the righteous anger she’d felt was still stirring inside. The back of her neck was hot and she could hear her pulse pound as if someone with a snare drum was sitting and playing in this colorless living room.
“I’m sorry about Ms. Oliver, Margaret. She’s still in training and can get carried away. Please continue. We appreciate your understanding.”
Jazz doubted Margaret Charlock appreciated anything about them at the moment. Her face had turned a peculiar shade of purple, probably with anger, and her shoulders seemed to shake.
She jumped to her feet and went over by the sliding glass doors to look out, ignoring both of them. Griffin’s lips had formed a grim line and Jazz knew she was in for an ass chewing when they left. She’d done the opposite of what he’d asked but being friends with this woman simply wasn’t something she was capable of doing.
“The last day I saw Casey she said she wanted me to meet someone. A new boyfriend.” Margaret’s
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