LITMIR.BIZ

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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 inlaws 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?”

      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

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