by Beth Andrews
“Have you lived here long?”
“Long enough.”
She forced a smile even though Dillon had yet to look up from the coffee dripping into the pot. “Smells good up here. Must be nice living over a bakery. Bet you get all the day-old stuff half price, huh?”
He finally lifted his head. “You’re rambling.”
Heat crept up her neck. “Yeah, well, I ramble when I’m nervous.”
He grunted and replaced the pot with a mug so the brewing coffee dripped directly into it. Poured coffee into a second mug before putting the pot back and set one in front of her. “I remember.”
And for some stupid, inconceivable reason, those two little words made her eyes fill with tears. Luckily, Dillon turned back to the coffeepot and she was able to blink away the offensive moisture before he noticed.
He pulled the other chair out and sat down. “Why don’t you—”
A knock at the door cut him off. Dillon swore under his breach and went to answer it, his body blocking Kelsey’s view.
“Holy God,” he said to the person on the other side. “Could this morning get any worse?”
“I need you to come to the station with me.”
Kelsey froze. She recognized that voice. It had haunted her dreams last night. Well, maybe not her dreams, more like her fantasies.
Dillon opened the door more fully. “I’d love to, Chief. But I’m afraid I have company.”
Jack entered the room, his gaze zeroing in on her. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s leaving,” Dillon said, before she could speak, “in approximately four minutes.”
Jack frowned and turned his attention back to Dillon. “She’s leaving now. And you’re coming with me.”
Dillon sipped his coffee, leaned back against the counter and crossed his bare feet at the ankles. “What’s this about?”
Jack quickly studied the room, then stared at a spot by the door. “Are those your boots?”
“Yeah.”
“Were you wearing them last night?”
Dillon straightened. “Why?”
Jack looked at Kelsey as he said, “We can discuss it at the station.”
She fought a growing sense of unease. “I think you should discuss it now.”
“This doesn’t concern you, ma’am,” Jack said.
Ma’am? Last night the man had kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her and now he was back to calling her ma’am?
She looked out the open door. A uniformed officer stood on the top of the stairs. Her unease turned into full-blown panic. “If it involves my brother, then it does concern me.”
“Take it easy,” Dillon murmured to her. “Am I under arrest, Chief?”
“I just want to ask you a few questions about last night.”
“Ask away,” Dillon said mildly.
“Where were you this morning between the hours of midnight and two-thirty?”
“I was here.”
“Can anybody verify that?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I, along with numerous other witnesses, including your sister here—” Jack nodded toward Kelsey “—saw you leave The Summit bar with Shannon Crandall.”
“So?”
“Were you in Mrs. Crandall’s house?”
“I stopped by there—to pick up a check.”
“Did you and Mrs. Crandall argue?”
Kelsey couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “What’s this about?”
Jack kept his eyes on Dillon. “Shannon Crandall was found murdered this morning.”
Her stomach turned. “What? Oh my God. But, I don’t understand.” She looked from Jack to Dillon as they attempted to stare each other down. Jack’s face was unreadable, while Dillon’s expression grew darker with each passing moment. “What does this have to do with Dillon?”
“Don’t you get it?” Dillon ground out harshly when Jack remained silent. “I’m their number-one suspect.”
JACK SHUT THE DOOR TO the booking-interrogation room after taking Ward’s statement, leaving Pascale in the room with their suspect. Alone in the hallway, he leaned against the cold beige wall and stared at the scuffed linoleum floor.
Two hours of questioning and they hadn’t managed to shake Ward’s story or, better yet, get him to confess.Ward had been nothing if not cool and calm during the past two hours. No matter how hard Jack had grilled him, he’d stuck to his story unflinchingly, his expression giving none of his thoughts away.
And, as much as Jack would like to blame the lack of progress on Ward’s stoic personality, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was his own fault. If coming back to Serenity Springs had somehow dulled his edge as an interrogator. An edge he’d honed carefully during his four years as detective.
With little physical evidence—and no murder weapon—no eyewitnesses to the actual crime, and no confession, he didn’t have a strong enough reason to charge Ward with murder.
Yet.
Jack walked past the empty holding cells and down the main hallway. As he placed his hand on the doorknob to the break room, Ben Michaels came barreling around the corner.
“Chief,” the kid called as he hurried down the hall.
Jack sighed. “What’s the problem?”
“Dora Wilkins is here…out front. She wants a statement.”
Jack rubbed his temples. Because not only was Dora editor in chief of the local newspaper, the Serenity Springs Gazette, she was also their lead reporter. And a huge pain in Jack’s ass.
He ground his back teeth together. Hell, he’d hoped for a few minutes alone. Time to make a quick phone call to his in-laws and check in on Emma. “Put Dora in my office. Tell her I’ll—”
“I can’t do that,” Michaels blurted.
“Why not?”
Michaels’s protruding Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. “I’ve already put my mom…uh…I mean, the mayor in your office.”
Great. Not only did he have a murderer to find and an overzealous reporter to get rid of, but he also had to take time to coddle and reassure Mayor Michaels.
Sometimes, he really hated his job.
“Does Dora know the mayor is here?” Jack asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“Keep it that way. Let the mayor know I’ll be in to see her in five minutes. Then put Dora in the front office. Tell her I’ll give her an official statement in half an hour. Any word from the district attorney?”
“He’s in court this morning, but he’s supposed to call as soon as he has a recess.”
Jack turned to the break room door. “Let me know the minute he calls.”
“Uh, Chief…”
Jack bit back a curse. “Yeah?”
“That woman, the one who was at the accused’s apartment—”
“He’s not the accused. He hasn’t been charged.”
“Right. Uh, anyway, she showed up here after we brought Mr. Ward in.” He lowered his voice and gestured to the door. “She’s waiting in there.”
Of course she was.
So far he’d managed to put Kelsey—and the stricken expression on her face when he’d escorted her brother to a police car—out of his mind. Naturally he would now have to face her, to be reminded of the way he’d lost control and kissed her.
Kissing her had been a mistake. He just hadn’t expected it to reach this magnitude of mistake-dom. After all, last night she’d simply been a sexy stranger. A woman who’d attracted him.
Today, she was the sister of a murder suspect.
“Better make it fifteen minutes before I get to the mayor,” Jack said. “And no one on staff talks to Dora. No statements. No theories. Nothing. If she so much as asks for the time, the answer is ‘no comment.’ Understand me?”
Michaels bobbed his head. “Yes, sir.”
Jack pushed the door open.
Kelsey, in the act of pacing behind the long, scarred rectangular table, whirled to face him. “It’s about time. Can my brother leave now?”
&
nbsp; Ignoring her question—and the way her scent wrapped around him—he headed to the coffeemaker. After pouring the inky liquid into a disposable cup and adding a generous amount of powdered creamer, he grabbed the bottle of pain relievers from the counter.
After downing three pills, he looked at her. Held up his cup. “Want some?”
“I don’t want any coffee,” she snapped. “I want answers.”
He sat at the table. “Have a seat.”
“I’ll stand.”
He wasn’t about to discuss anything while she hovered over him like a damn storm cloud. Jack sipped his coffee and watched her steadily over the rim of his cup.
It didn’t take long for her to get the message. She huffed out a breath before sliding a chair out with her foot and perching on the edge of her seat.
“Where’s Dillon?” she asked.
“He’s signing his statement.”
She visibly paled. “A statement? He’s giving a statement without a lawyer present?”
“You’ve been watching too many television cop shows. He doesn’t need a lawyer—”
“Anytime someone gets dragged down to the police station, they need a lawyer.”
“He wasn’t dragged anywhere. He came willingly. And he doesn’t need a lawyer because he’s not under arrest.”
She stood. “Great. That means he’s free to leave.”
He was, but if there was a legal way to hold Ward, one that wouldn’t jeopardize any future charges against him, Jack would do it in a heartbeat.
“We’re not charging him,” he admitted. “You might want to convince him it would be in his best interest not to take any sudden trips out of town.”
Her eyes narrowed to green slits. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your brother is a person of interest in an ongoing murder investigation. It wouldn’t look good if he were to suddenly disappear.”
“This is ridiculous.” She slapped her hands down on the table and leaned toward him. “You’re harassing him for no reason.”
He met her eyes, eyebrow raised. “Murder is a pretty good reason, don’t you think?”
A flush reddened her cheeks. “Look, just because Dillon was seen leaving the bar at the same time as that woman—”
“That woman had a name,” he said quietly. “And now she’s dead.”
Kelsey swallowed and something shifted in her eyes, but she didn’t back down. “You’re looking to pin this murder on someone and Dillon is a convenient target.”
He finished his coffee and prayed for the painkillers to kick in soon. “Are you insinuating the only reason we brought your brother in for questioning is because he’s killed before?”
She flinched and straightened quickly, a guilty expression on her face. Did being reminded of her brother’s past upset her so much? Or, could it be that despite her protests, she was worried Ward could be guilty of this murder, too?
“Is this how you run an investigation?” she asked. “Placing blame on someone because of their past?”
“If that person’s past is significant—which in this case it most certainly is.” He rested his arms on the table and clasped his hands together. “You have to face facts. Your brother was the last known person to see Shannon alive.”
“He didn’t kill her. I know he didn’t.”
“He’s already admitted he followed Shannon home.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“He also admits he and Shannon argued.”
That shut her up. But only for a minute. “Doesn’t matter. You’re looking at the wrong person.”
“For your sake,” he said sincerely, “I hope you’re right.”
He rose and tossed his empty cup in the trash. For some reason that he didn’t want to examine too deeply, he hated the thought of her being involved in this mess.
“You know,” he said, “the best thing you could do is forget all of this. Go home, go back to your life.”
“I want to see my brother. Now.”
Damn, but she was stubborn. And loyal. How would she take it once that loyalty to her brother was proved unfounded?
“I’m sure Ward is almost ready to leave,” he said. “I can send someone in to get you—”
“Don’t bother.” She stalked past him and opened the door. “Just tell Dillon I’ll be waiting for him in the parking lot.”
Before she could leave, Jack caught her by the wrist. “I’m telling you, for your own good, you don’t want to get tangled up in this, Kelsey. Go home.”
Without waiting for her to respond, he dropped her wrist and walked out the door.
IN THE SMALL PARKING LOT behind the police station, Jack’s parting words played through Kelsey’s mind as she paced under the midday sun. No matter what he said, she wasn’t going anywhere.
She needed to stay and help prove Dillon’s innocence. To make sure he wasn’t railroaded for a crime he didn’t commit. No way would she sit back and do nothing while her brother went to prison.Not again.
The door opened and Dillon walked outside followed by a flabby, middle-aged cop. God, how many times growing up had the situation been reversed? How many times had she been escorted out of the local police station only to find Dillon waiting for her?
Too many. Way too many. After all, she’d been the juvenile delinquent.
Dillon must’ve read her mind because when he noticed her he said, “Just like old times, huh?”
“Not funny.” She fell into step beside him, aware of the cop following close behind them. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
Dillon shook his head. “I’m not going home.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the hospital.”
“What?” She stopped and grabbed his arm. “Are you hurt? Did they do something to you?”
“Relax,” he said, peeling her fingers off him. “They didn’t break out the rubber hoses. I’m going to submit a DNA sample.”
“Voluntarily?”
His gaze flicked to the cop who now stood about thirty feet away next to a police cruiser. “Sort of.”
While she wasn’t sure it was in his best interest to submit a sample, she bit her tongue. “I’ll go with you.”
“No, thanks.”
Okay. He obviously still didn’t want her around. Too damn bad. “Look, I’m going to help you whether you like it or not.”
He grimaced. “I don’t like it.”
“Tough. And what the hell are you thinking? Bad enough you’re going to give them DNA, but I can’t believe you gave them a statement without an attorney present.”
“I don’t need an attorney. I didn’t do it.”
“I know that,” she said, but nothing changed in his eyes or on his face. No visible relief at knowing she believed in him. “What about the local public defender?”
He walked away, his long strides forcing her to hurry to keep up. “They offered to call him in, but I refused.”
“Don’t worry. If they insist on continuing with this bogus investigation, we’ll hire the best defense attorney—”
“No.”
“What? Why not?”
He stopped and frowned down at her. “I don’t want or need your help. There’s no reason for you to get involved. Or to stick around.”
Kelsey slid a glance to the cop, not fooled by the way he stared straight ahead. She knew he was hanging on their every word.
She lowered her voice. “I’m not going to leave you.”
“It’s been a long time, Kelsey.” Dillon sent her a cool look. “I’m not the same person I was back then and I’m not your problem to worry about.”
“You’re my brother,” she said softly around the tears clogging her throat. “I love you.”
She read something in his eyes. Something that looked like regret. Or perhaps, sadness. Whatever it was, it told her Dillon wasn’t as unaffected by her words as he’d like her to believe.
“You shouldn’t,” he said simply, a breeze ruffling his hai
r. “You need to go back to your life and forget about me.”
He climbed in the back of the police car. The cop shut the door, got in the front and drove away.
Kelsey slowly made her way across the parking lot to her car. She climbed in, started it and pulled out into the street. She made it three blocks before she had to pull over. Gripping the steering wheel with shaking hands, she battled back her tears.
She wiped her eyes. She’d help prove Dillon’s innocence because, damn it, he was innocent.
Kelsey had to believe it. If she didn’t, if her brother really was a heartless, cold-blooded killer, she had no one to blame but herself.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS BAD ENOUGH HE couldn’t get her out of his head, but a man was in deep trouble when he could still taste a woman after two days. Two days and two long, restless nights.
Sunday morning Jack jogged around the corner onto Main Street. Traffic was light, a few early risers making their way to church or out for breakfast. The crisp air along with the physical exertion helped to clear his head. The surrounding mountains with their patchwork of autumn colors and the steady sound of his feet hitting the concrete were reassuringly familiar.God knew he could use some familiarity right now. He hadn’t left the station until almost 1:00 a.m., only to spend another two hours at his kitchen table going over his notes and the pitiful amount of evidence gathered at Shannon’s murder scene.
The only solid piece he had so far was that Mark Crandall’s alibi panned out. Phone records proved that Crandall called home on his cell phone around one-thirty that morning, and eyewitnesses placed him at the airport at that time.
Since the airport is a good two hour drive from Serenity Springs, it was looking less and less like Mark Crandall had killed his wife. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t had someone kill her.
But he hadn’t tossed and turned all night long just because of Shannon’s murder.
An image of Kelsey entered his head and he increased his pace until his lungs felt like they were going to explode and his leg muscles screamed. From what Pascale told him of Kelsey’s brief conversation with her brother in the parking lot yesterday, Ward had, once again, pushed his sister away. It must’ve worked this time as she never returned to the station. Word through the town’s reliable grapevine was that she’d checked out of The Bee Hive, too.
