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She blinked. Frowned. “Excuse me?”
“You think if you solve Marcie’s murder, then in a small way, you’ll get justice for your mom.”
She was sure her mouth dropped open when she scowled at him. “What—did you take Psych 101 classes along with those forensic workshops?”
He shook his head. “Personal experience. My dad was shot and killed when I was a kid. Every case turns out to be about him.” Reed lifted his shoulder. “Can’t help it. It’s just an old wound that can’t be healed.”
Yes.
Livvy totally understood that.
“That’s why I jumped to defend Woody back there,” Reed continued. “He raised me. He became the dad who was taken away from me.” But then he paused. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be objective. I can be.”
She wanted to grumble a hmmmp to let him know she had her doubts about that objectivity, but her doubts weren’t as strong as they had been an hour earlier. Livvy blamed that on their escape from death together. That created a special camaraderie. So did their tragic pasts. For that matter so did this bizarre attraction she felt for him. All in all, it led to a union that she didn’t want or need.
“Oh, man,” Reed groaned.
Livvy looked ahead at the two-story white limestone building with a triple-arch front and reinforced glass doors. It was the sheriff’s office, among other things. Livvy had learned from Deputy Spears that it also housed the jail and several municipal offices.
Right next to the sheriff’s building was an identical structure for the mayor’s office and courthouse. However, it wasn’t the weathered facades of the buildings that had likely caused Reed’s groan. As he brought the truck to a stop, he had his attention fastened to the two men and a Native American woman standing on the steps. Another attractive woman with long red hair was sitting in a car nearby.
“Trouble?” Livvy asked.
“Maybe. Not from the redhead. She’s Jessie Becker, but her father’s the one on the right. He’s probably here to stir up some trouble.”
Jonah was the owner of the cabin. And, as far as Livvy was concerned, he was a prime murder suspect. Even if he hadn’t been the one to actually kill Marcie, he might have information about it.
Though she’d scoured Jonah’s bio, this was Livvy’s first look at the man, and he certainly lived up to his reputation of being intimating and hard-nosed. Jonah might have been wearing a traditional good-guy white cowboy hat, but the stare he gave her was all steel and ice.
“You let somebody burn down my cabin,” Jonah accused the moment Reed and she stepped from the truck. “The fire chief just called. Said it was a total loss.”
“We didn’t exactly let it happen,” Reed snarled. He stopped. Met Jonah eye-to-eye. “There was a phone stolen from the cabin before the place was set on fire. Know anything about that?”
Jonah’s mouth tightened. “Now, you’re accusing me of thievery from a place I own?”
“I’m asking, not accusing,” Reed clarified, though from his tone, it could have been either. “But I want an answer.”
The demand caused a standoff with the two men staring at each other. “I didn’t take anything from the cabin,” Jonah finally said, “because I haven’t been out there. Last I heard, you’d roped off the place and said for everybody to stay away. So, I stayed away,” he added with a touch of smugness.
If Reed believed him, he didn’t acknowledge it.
“I’m Billy Whitley,” the other man greeted Livvy, extending his hand to her. He tipped his head to the Native American woman beside him. “And this is my wife, Charla.”
Livvy shifted her equipment bag and shook hands with both of them. “Sergeant Hutton.”
Unlike Jonah, Billy wasn’t wearing a cowboy hat, and the khaki-wearing man sported a smile that seemed surprisingly genuine. “Welcome to Comanche Creek, Sergeant Hutton.”
“Yes, welcome,” Charla repeated, though it wasn’t as warm a greeting as her husband’s had been. And she didn’t just look at Livvy—the woman’s intense coffee-brown eyes stared.
Livvy didn’t offer her first name, as Billy had done to her. Yes, it was silly, but she wanted to hang on to every thread of authority she had left. After what’d just happened, that wasn’t much, but somehow she had to establish that she was the one in charge here. That wasn’t easy to do with Reed storming past Jonah and Billy.
And her.
That left her trailing along after him.
“I’m the county clerk here,” Billy continued. “Charla is an administrative assistant for the mayor.” All three followed into the building, too. “I handle the records and such, and if I can help you in any way, just let me know.”
That such might become important to Livvy since Billy would be in charge of deeds, and the land that Jonah had bought might play into what was happening now. Of course, Livvy had a dozen other things to do before digging into what might have been an illegal land deal.
Jonah caught up with them and fell in step to her left. Since the entry hall was massive, at least fifteen feet wide, it wasn’t hard for the four to walk side by side, especially with Reed ahead of them. “I’m not even gonna get an apology for my cabin?” Jonah complained.
“I’m sorry,” Livvy mumbled, and she was sincere. Losing the cabin and the evidence inside was a hard blow to the case.
Reed turned into a room about midway down the hall, and he walked past a perky-looking auburn-haired receptionist who stood and then almost immediately sat back down to take an incoming call.
They walked by a room where Deputy Spears was on the phone as well, but he called out to her, “The castings are on the way to the lab. The courier just picked them up.”
“Thanks,” Livvy managed but didn’t stop.
She continued to follow the fast-walking Reed into his office. Like the man, it was a bit of a surprise. His desk was neat, organized, and the slim computer monitor and equipment made it look more modern than Livvy had thought it would be. There was a huge calendar on the wall, and it was filled with appointments at precise times, measured not in hours but in quarter hours.
“You can put the equipment bag there,” Reed instructed, pointing to a table pushed against one of the walls. There was also an evidence locker nearby. Good. She wanted to secure the few items she had left.
Reed snatched up the phone. “I need to call some of the other sheriffs in the area and have them send over deputies to scour the woods for anything the arsonist might have left behind. After that, I’ll take you up to the jail so you can talk to Shane.”
Reed proceeded to make that call, but he also shot a what-are-you-still-doing-here? glare at Billy, Charla and Jonah, who were hovering in the narrow doorway and watching Livvy’s every move. Livvy didn’t think it was her imagination that all three were extremely interested in what she had in the equipment bag. Still, Billy tipped two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute and Charla and he left.
Jonah didn’t.
“So, did you come to town to arrest me for Marcie’s murder?” Jonah asked her.
Livvy spared him a glance and plopped her bag onto the table. “Why, are you confessing to it?”
“Careful,” Jonah warned, and his tone was so chilling that it prompted Livvy to look at him.
“I’m always careful. And thorough,” she threatened back. She tried not to let her suspicions of this man grow. After all, they had a suspect in jail, but she wondered if Shane had acted alone.
Or if he’d acted at all.
It wouldn’t be a pleasant task to challenge Shane’s guilt or innocence because if she proved Shane hadn’t murdered Marcie, then she would have to prove that someone else had. That was certain to rile a lot of people.
She remembered the uncomfortable stare that Charla Whitley had given her. And the way the mayor had reminded her of Reed’s authority. She wasn’t winning any Miss Congeniality contests—and probably wouldn’t.
“Good day, Mr. Becker,” Livvy said, dismissing Jonah, and she took out the bag with the sample from the blood spatter. If this was indeed Shane’s blood, and if future analysis of the pattern indicated that it was real castoff from blunt force, then that would put some doubt in her mind.
Since Reed was still on the phone, Livvy secured her bag in the evidence locker, and with the blood sample clutched in her hand, she walked to the doorway. Jonah was still there, but she merely stepped around him and went to Deputy Spears’s office. She shut the door so they’d have some privacy.
“I need this analyzed ASAP,” she instructed. “It’s possible that it’s Shane’s blood.”
Kirby Spears nodded. “I can run it over to the coroner. He does a lot of this type of work for us, and we have Shane’s DNA on file in the computer so we can compare the sample.” He took the bag and put his initials on the chain of custody form.
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