by Fiona Archer
She sat up in her chair.
Oh. My. God.
“I was on Facebook.” She leaned forward and rushed out the next few sentences. “I couldn’t sleep once I woke and found Heath had gone. I chatted with Kell via PM.” Thank fucking God for social media.
Snyder frowned. “Kell?”
“A friend of mine.”
“You messaged this person on Facebook?” Snyder asked, drawing her attention. “At exactly 4 a.m.?” His disbelieving tone set London’s teeth on edge.
God, this jerk made everything she said sound like an outright lie. “Before and during. Kell’s an Aussie, so it was evening for her. She’s the owner of a group on Facebook for readers and bloggers and stuff. It’s one of my favorite groups, and she and I were organizing a Facebook party I’m going to hold there in a few weeks.”
And considering the debacle of having over seven hundred people witness in real time two detectives escorting her out of the café, Lord knew what awaited her on her favorite social media platform.
Braedon stopped taking notes. “London’s internet provider would have the information you need to place her at home around the time you believe Mr. Banks was murdered.”
London reached down to her bag at her side. “I can show you.” She pulled out her phone and tapped into her Messenger account. “Here, look.” She handed her phone to Detective Reed. “Each entry is logged with a time.”
The detective studied her phone, sweeping his finger up the screen to read the conversation. He glanced to Snyder. “It’s all here. They chatted until 4:36 a.m.”
“And then I answered some emails.” London looked to both detectives. “It will all be traceable.”
“That doesn’t explain how your pen came to be the murder weapon.”
“It isn’t Ms. Shaw’s job to explain how either.” Braedon pulled off a piece of paper and handed that and his pen to London. “Write down your internet provider and your street address. The cops can get it themselves, but I want a record that we willingly supplied the information.”
London wrote down the information then handed the paper and pen to Braedon.
“Here,” Her lawyer passed the paper to Reed and slid his pen into his jacket pocket. Then he lifted up his briefcase from beside the table. “We’ve played our game of show and tell. You shared your evidence. We’ve proven Ms. Shaw has an alibi for the time of the murder. Now I’m telling you we’re done for the time being.” He placed his pad into his briefcase.
Snyder’s impatient expression turned stony. “That’s not how this works.”
“Yes, it is, Snyder.” Braedon rose from the table and turned to London, holding out his hand, clearly dismissing the detective’s opinion of who was in charge. There was no denying the man was all confidence. Thank the Lord he was her lawyer.
She took his hand and was grateful for the strength of his grip as she took a step away from the table. With a steadying breath, she straightened her spine and smiled at Braedon who then let go of her hand.
Her lawyer glanced between the detectives. “My client is leaving. If you need to speak to her again, you contact me.”
“We will.” Reed stood and looked from Braedon to London. “Thank you, Ms. Shaw, for your cooperation. We understand losing your friend has been hard for you.”
No wonder Reed was the more likable of the two detectives.
She nodded as Reed opened the door to the interview room and led them to the elevator.
Reed’s face and voice held a tone of regret. “Ms. Shaw, nobody enjoys taking in a fellow officer’s family member for questioning. We had no choice but to follow the evidence.”
“I understand.” And she did, but that didn’t mean she wanted to relive the experience any time soon.
The doors to the elevator opened, and she and Braedon stepped in.
“You did well, London.” Braedon punched the button for the lobby.
She glanced sideways at her lawyer. “Thank you. You were”—A godsend?—“great, too.” She cringed at her word choice. So lame. And she called herself an author.
Braedon’s lips quirked. “I had fun. It was even worth the threat to my safety.”
London gasped. “One of the cops here threatened you?”
“Adam.” Braedon’s mouth twitched. “He said he’d cut off my balls if I didn’t walk out of here with you beside me.”
She felt her eyes widen.
“He’s such a kidder.” Braedon winked at her.
Talk about unfazed. Or delusional. “Um, I don’t think—”
“My dad thought his sister was nuts when she first said she was going to adopt four Aussie street kids. But in the end, they proved her faith in them.” Braedon’s tone lost its humor, and his stare held her in place. “You’ve got a good guy in Heath, London.”
He was. But there was something about the way this man, with his razor sharp, legal eagle mind, looked at her as if he was sizing her up to see if she was a good match for his cousin. A tickle of panic raced over her skin as London felt the full weight of his scrutiny.
“We’ve only been on one date.” But…had they? No, he had joined her in a family celebration. And then she’d slept with him. Okay, fine then. She pushed on. “Well, maybe not a date, but, um, you know, we’ve been around each other, and…” As Braedon’s grin returned, she scrambled for a more coherent response. “…we’ll likely be around each other some more.”
Braedon remained silent, but laughter shone in his eyes.
London wanted to bang her head against the metal wall of the elevator.
Thankfully, at that moment, the doors opened and they exited into the lobby of SPD headquarters.
And there, not ten feet away, were her father, Derek and Aidan, plus Seth and Adam Justice.
But it was Heath who first pulled her into his arms.
“Red.” That was all he said, but the roughness of his voice spoke volumes.
With her arms plastered by her sides, all she could do was lean into his chest as his embrace tightened. “I was so scared.” Damn, her voice wobbled. And then came a burning at the back of her eyes. She felt Heath’s kiss on her forehead and then he rested his cheek on her head.
And his arms around her felt…wonderful.
“We established an alibi via her using the internet. I don’t see London facing any more questions. SPD’s been informed they’re to contact her through my office.”
At Braedon’s words, she moved to pull back. Heath’s arms fell from her around her, and London dropped her bag a second before Derek wrapped her in a hug.
“Jesus, kid.” Her big brother’s voice echoed his disbelief at the morning’s events. “They banned Heath, Aidan, and me from going anywhere near your interview.”
“I understand.” London’s words were muffled against Derek’s chest as he squeezed her hard. For some reason, knowing her brothers and Heath hadn’t witnessed her so vulnerable and panicked was a blessing.
Derek let her go so Aidan could repeat the hugging portion.
“How the hell could this happen to my daughter?”
Her dad’s voice. And angry, too. She needed to assure him she was okay.
Stepping back, she got a kiss on the cheek from Aidan, who turned her to her dad.
Kieran hugged his daughter, and not for the first time, London let the familiar strength and comfort of his hug surround her.
“I’m okay, Dad. Honest.” She gazed up, seeing him blink rapidly as if to ward off tears. Dammit, she hated that her family had been put through this ordeal, too. “I had an amazing lawyer looking out for me.”
And speaking of which…
She turned around to face Braedon. “Really, thank you.”
Braedon’s face softened for a moment as he gave her a small smile. “My pleasure, London.” He looked over at Heath. “Cuz, you owe me. I’m thinking Sunday night, NFL double-header, and you’re not allowed to complain once.”
“Christ,” Heath muttered as held out his hand. “Thanks, mat
e. I appreciate you dropping everything.”
“That’s my job.” Braedon glanced at Adam. “And I can’t resist a challenge.” He turned to London, waved, and headed out of the lobby.
And she had more people to thank. “Adam,”—she bit her lip as the silent man dressed in black stared at her before she addressed the man next to him—“Seth, thank you for…” Saving my ass. Her throat felt tight, and she battled a fresh flood of tears. Without these two guys, she wouldn’t have gotten the help she needed so fast. “…making the right c-calls.” Including one to Heath.
Seth reached out and squeezed her arm. “No problem, honey. We’ll leave you to your family now.”
Adam nodded to her. “Heath will add our numbers to your cell. You need anything, call.” His tone sounded more like an order than a sweet offer, but London wasn’t going to quibble with the guy. Besides, he didn’t give her a chance to thank him for this new act of kindness. Instead, he shot an annoyed glance at Seth as the youngest Justice brother grinned at him. With a shake of his head, he turned to Heath. “Meeting later?”
“That’s a given.” Heath sent meaningful looks at Derek and Aidan who both nodded. He gazed back to Adam. “They’ll be extra guests. I’ll call.”
Adam and Seth gave chin lifts then left.
London guessed she would be a topic of conversation at this meeting, but asking for more details would wait for now.
Her dad moved to steer her toward the exit. “Let’s get you to your mom and grandma. I was home when Derek phoned.”
Aidan stepped away and pulled out his phone. “I’ll let them know she’s out.”
“Kieran, can you give us a minute?” Heath reached out and drew London close, making his request a moot point.
The heavy weight of Heath’s arm on her shoulders felt…so right. A sunray of happiness peaked through the gloom of her morning as she pressed herself closer to him.
Her dad cast a glance between her and Heath. Even though she guessed he didn’t want her out of his sight after this morning’s scare, he gave in. “Of course.” He moved to stand with Derek and Aidan a short distance close by.
Heath led her a few feet away toward a quiet corner decorated with a couple of tall, bushy indoor plants in black ceramic pots. The move afforded them as much privacy as possible in the open lobby with cops and members of the public passing them constantly.
Heck, she didn’t care who saw them. The important thing was Heath Justice was standing in front of her, his expression a mixture of concern and impatience. As he cupped her cheek in his callused hand, she guessed he wanted to keep her close.
And right now, that’s what London wanted the most, too.
****
Heath dragged her close. To hell with her family standing nearby and the people streaming past. He’d been running on adrenaline from the moment Sergeant Avery delivered his news.
“Red, I’ve got to get back upstairs and sort some shit out.” He caught the flash of disappointment in her gaze and fought against the urge to plant his fist through the wall behind him. “Besides, Derek and I made a promise we’d keep the other from punching out Snyder and Reed.”
Her eyes widened, and she put her hands up to his chest. “Don’t you dare get into trouble over me.” She narrowed her eyes at his dismissive snort. “I mean it.”
Heath tightened his arm around her. “London, a fellow cop doesn’t bring in a female who’s a colleague’s sister and another one’s woman and then not expect to get a hug from said brother and other guy.”
London’s mouth opened, as if she was shocked. “I’m your woman?”
He’d definitely taken her by surprise. Not an unreasonable reaction. They hadn’t been on a proper date yet, but today’s extraordinary circumstances had thrown social norms out the window.
“After this morning? Absolutely.”
“Because we slept together?”
London’s cautious tone kicked him into making his stance crystal clear.
He lowered his head closer. “No, because when my sergeant told me you had been brought in, I wanted to go and rip the living shit out of two fellow cops who were simply doing their job. A guy doesn’t do that over a woman he’s just hanging with.”
He caught her quick intake of breath, the way her gaze fixed on him, and the moment her face softened as she seemed to not only accept his words but gain pleasure from the meaning behind them.
Nevertheless, he needed to leave no questions. “I’ve no idea where we’re headed, London. This is early days, and I’m not making declarations of love by calling you my woman. I am saying I’m invested in us spending time together to the point we’ll know if we’re a good fit for each other.” He swept his thumb over her cheek, watching as her eyes closed for a second under his touch. Was she savoring the moment? Christ, he’d fucking love it if she was. The way her fingers pressed on his shirt made his skin tingle for more. “And with that said, I’m thinking we should work toward an actual date at some point.”
He grinned at her answering bubble of laughter.
“That’s a great plan.” She pressed her lips together as her expression turned serious—albeit with a twinkle in her eyes. “Besides, you’re taking on a big risk with a woman as contrary as me.”
His grin turned into a full smile.
But London wasn’t finished. “Nearly as much as the risk I’m taking putting up with someone so anal about his devotion to order and obeying the rules.”
Little brat.
“C’m’ere, you.” He twisted a hand in her hair and dragged her in for a kiss. What started as a fun way to shut her up turned deeper as a dam of emotion over this morning’s events burst for him. His other arm clamped her against him, and he felt her fingers curl to grip his shirt. This wasn’t about passion, but him wanting to comfort and reassure her.
Unfortunately, the lobby of police headquarters wasn’t the ideal location.
He broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll call later. If you’re home, I’ll bring some takeout.”
She smoothed his shirt with her hands. “I’d like that.”
He stood back and, with Derek and Aidan, watched her father guide London out of the building. “Depending on what’s happening with London, we’ll meet at my place late tonight. None of us can talk here, and there’s too much I want explained about Banks and how he ended up with London’s pen in his eye.”
“Agreed.” Aidan shoved his phone in the back pocket of his pants. “I gotta get out to a case. I’ll check in later.” With a low wave, he headed down to the parking garage.
Heath and Derek took the elevator back up to their floor. On the way to their desks, they saw Reed and Snyder in the meeting room with Sergeant Avery. From the frowns on their faces, all three looked frustrated.
Heath banked his anger at his colleagues. Reed was solid, good at his job, and had been doing it for as long as Heath. Snyder was a condescending little prick, newly promoted to plainclothes who wanted to be SuperCop, but Heath had never seen him cut corners before.
“I’ve gotta get some fresh air,” Derek muttered as they walked past the meeting room’s glass wall. “Get that list off your desk. We’ll grab a sandwich and then spend a couple of hours chasing Vargas’s contacts. How much do you want to bet none will provide him with an alibi?”
Heath already knew the answer, but they had to cover all their bases. “I’m not taking that bet.”
Derek agreed. “We’re going to end up with exactly what we have now—a dead suspect and no other likely candidates.”
Heath grabbed the sheet of names and addresses from his desk. He glanced to see if he needed anything else. His workspace was always neat, everything laid out where it should be, no second guessing required.
London’s words filtered into his memory. “…someone so anal about his devotion to order.” Was he that anal? He glanced at his pens and pencils sitting in an old coffee cup. Wasn’t that simply being organized? It wasn’t like he made sure all
his pencils were sharpened and laid out in a precise pattern like stakes in a picket fence.
“You coming?” Derek glanced back at him as he headed out again.
“Yeah.” Jesus, now he was second guessing himself.
As Derek predicted, not even two hours later, they’d tracked down most of Vargas’s contacts—a polite term for fellow pimps, associated criminals not currently incarcerated, and junkie hookers. Just like his family, none of them could place Vargas during the time of Holmes and Jacobsen’s murders. Even Heath had to admit they were unlikely to get much further on the case, at least for now.
Back at Headquarters, they were at their desks. Heath started entering his notes on the computer.
Sergeant Avery came to stand beside Derek’s desk. “London’s alibi stacks up. She’s in the clear.” Avery sighed. “I know this morning was rough for your family,” he said to Derek. “And others.” This to Heath. “But the murder weapon was her pen, and she had to be questioned.”
“We still barred from the case?” Derek asked.
Avery nodded. “Nothing’s changed except that London is cleared for the time of Banks’s murder. The weapon has been confirmed as London’s property, and we have to establish how it ended up at Banks’s apartment.” Avery glanced at Vargas’s case file on Derek’s desk. “Got an update for me?”
“Nothing solid. Nobody will provide Vargas an alibi for the time of the double murder, or the days afterward.” Derek threw down his pen, sending it bouncing precariously close to the edge of his desk. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll end up with no way to prove definitely that he’s our murderer.”
Avery frowned. “But we’ve got the eyewitness.”
Heath leaned back in his chair. “True, but we’d have liked some DNA or other physical evidence as extra weight. We’ve organized a check of CCTV in the areas surrounding the hotels and a few other places from the time of the murder to when he was apprehended, just in case he was hiding somewhere we missed.” Heath shrugged. “We’ll see what comes up.”
But his gut told him Vargas wouldn’t appear on the tapes. There was an element about this case that troubled him, but what that was escaped him. He’d missed… Fuck. Something. A piece of evidence or something someone said. A clue? Whatever the item was, it niggled at the back of his mind like a pebble in a shoe, constantly annoying, and making itself felt.
