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"I'm just doing my job," Jack said glibly. He rubbed the ruby stud in his earlobe between thumb and forefinger and gave Ke
"I got them from the library."
"Ouch." He winced. "No royalties from you."
Again Ke
Dread hit Jack in the belly like a boot. Mon Dieu, not again, not another dead girl. He sat up straighter and abandoned his cigarette in the tin ashtray on the table. "What are you talkin' about?"
Ke
A potent combination of rage and fear swirled through Jack, and he surged to his feet, sending the chair screeching back on the linoleum. A killer had been playing games with her. Apparently the game was not over. And on the heels of those feelings came the guilt that a truly twisted mind had borrowed from his imagination.
He stalked the cheerless box of the interrogation room with his shoulders braced and his hands jammed at the waist of his jeans, doing his best to fight it all off. What he really needed, he told himself, was to get the hell out of town for a while. Until the killer was behind bars. Until Laurel had packed up and moved on with her life.
He stopped his pacing in front of what had to be a two-way glass and stared hard at the reflection of himself, wondering who might be on the other side.
Ke
Jack swung around to face him, brows pulling low over his eyes. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt Laurel."
The word "liar" rang like a gong in his head, but he ignored it. He had pushed her out of his life for her own good, not to hurt her. And damn but he missed her already. The thought of her finding that snake, especially after everything else she had gone through, made him want to go to her to protect her. But he couldn't do that. Wouldn't. He was nobody's white knight.
Something thumped against the door, breaking his train of thought, then came the sound of an argument loud enough to be heard quite clearly.
"I don't give a damn what Sheriff Ke
"But, ma'am-"
"Don't you 'But, ma'am' me, Deputy. I know my way around a police station, and I know my way around the law. Now open that door."
The door cracked open, and the massive Wilson stuck his head in, looking browbeaten and sheepish. "Excuse me, Sheriff Ke
Ke
"What's the problem here, Deputy?" He ground the whisper between his teeth like dust. "You can't keep one goddamn little slip of a woman out of my hair for five minutes?"
Laurel's voice sliced through the crack in the door like a knife. "Denying people their rights is serious business, Sheriff. I suggest you open that door at the risk of having me really tear through your hair-what's left of it."
Jack rubbed a hand across his mouth to hide his smile. She was a spitfire-no two ways about it. Most women in her situation would have been home, hiding. They certainly wouldn't have come to his rescue after the things he'd said and the way he'd behaved, he thought, the smile dying abruptly.
"I don't need a lawyer, angel," he said as Ke
She shot him a look that had turned better men to ashes. "A man who represents himself has a fool for a client."
"Miz Chandler," Ke
"Not if I don't believe he did it," Laurel said. "Besides, this is a noncustodial interview, is it not?" She arched a brow above the rim of her oversize glasses, waiting for Ke
Not giving a damn if either man wanted her there, Laurel marched across the room to the table and took the only seat that looked remotely comfortable-Ke
Ke
Jack slid lazily back down on the chair he had vacated and took up the smoldering butt of his cigarette between thumb and forefinger. He met Laurel's gaze for an instant and tried to read what she was thinking. She didn't flinch, didn't blink, didn't smile. There were delicate purple shadows beneath her eyes and a vulnerability around her mouth he was certain she didn't realize was there, but she didn't give him anything-except the impression that he'd hurt her badly and she was too damn proud to bend beneath the weight of it.
Ke
Crushing out the stub of his smoke, Jack shot the sheriff a look. "I
"You got an alibi for Wednesday night, ten 'til two A.M.?"
The question struck Laurel harder than it did Jack. Wednesday night. That had to be Sava
Wednesday night between ten and two. She had come home from di
Oh, God, had she somehow known? Had she somehow sensed the moment her sister had passed from this world?
The thought left her feeling dizzy and weak.
Ke
Howling at the moon, Jack thought. Wandering the banks of the bayou, as he had done most of the day yesterday. Thinking, remembering, punishing himself. Alone.
"Where were you?" Ke
"He was with me," Laurel said softly, her heart pounding in her breast. She'd seen the light come on in his window. It had to have been two or after, but he wasn't answering, and she wasn't going to let Ke
She glanced up at him. His face was a blank, unreadable mask, the scar on his chin looking almost silver under the harsh fluorescent light. "He was with me. We were together. All night."
Swell. Ke
"Ah, me," Jack drawled, forcing the corners of his mouth up into a smug, cat-in-the-cream smile as he splayed his hands across his chest. "I'm not the kind of man to kiss and tell."
"You're a smart-ass, that's what you are," Ke
Laurel watched Jack's jaw tighten at the insult and knew Ke
Ke
"It adds up to shit," Laurel declared. "He'd be a fool to implicate himself that way."
"Or a genius. What do you say, Jack? You think you're a genius?"
Jack lit another Marlboro and rolled his eyes, slouching back in his chair. "Jesus, Ke
"You ever tie a woman up to have sex with her?"
He held his gaze on Ke
"No, but maybe you like it that way. Some men do."
"Speak for yourself," Jack said, tapping the ashtray. "You're the one wearing handcuffs on your belt. I'm only into violence on paper. Ask anyone who knows me."
Ke
"You son of a bitch."
In one move, Jack came up out of the chair and flung his cigarette down on the floor to singe a hole in the linoleum. Fury built and burned inside him like steam, searing his skin from the inside out. He would have given anything for the chance to tear Ke