Debra Webb - Physical Evidence

“I’m sorry, Ms. Preston,” Mitch offered, with absolutely no contrition. “But until we solve this case, you’re my prime suspect. Despite the fact that you came here, running only made you look more guilty.”

She stared directly into his eyes. “I ran because I was afraid. I don’t know why I came to your house,” she said flatly. “And I can’t tell you what happened in that car with Miller.” She flung her arms upward in frustration. “I don’t even know how I got all these bruises. But the one thing I can tell you is that I didn’t kill anyone. I know that.”

She swayed slightly and had the presence of mind to drop back into her chair before Mitch had to reach for her.

“All right,” he relented. “Let’s say for the moment that I believe you. How do you propose we go about proving your story? After all, you lied to me about why you were here from the beginning.” She might not remember just yet, but he couldn’t put it out of his head.

That got her attention. Confusion claimed her features. “I don’t know why I lied to you. But there must have been a reason I held anything back.”

Incredibly, he believed her. Mitch swore silently. This was nuts. He should just take her back to the hospital this minute and put her under guard in a room with no windows. What the hell was he thinking standing here allowing himself to swallow her story hook, line and sinker?

But he did. That was the hell of it. He was furious that the Colby Agency had sent her here without coordinating with his office. He was even angrier that she had lied to him and that she seemed determined to make Phillip look bad somehow. But, damned if he didn’t believe, deep in his gut, that she was innocent of any wrongdoing where the murders were concerned.

Before he opened his mouth and made an even bigger fool of himself, the telephone rang. He crossed the room and snatched up the receiver before the second ring. “Hayden.”

“Sheriff, you’re not going to believe what me and Willis found in that P.I.’s hotel room.”

It was Roy. Mitch glanced at the clock. “Roy, I thought everyone had called it a night?”

“I know,” he crooned. “But I just couldn’t wait till morning to do this. I talked Willis into coming over here with me after the search ended for the night.”

Mitch studied Alex, who was staring into her coffee cup again as if it held all the answers she needed. “So what’d you find?”

Roy’s excitement was palpable. “We found a high-powered rifle hidden under the mattress. How much you want to bet it’s the same one that killed Saylor?”

Mitch sat in the darkness of his bedroom staring at the telephone on the table next to the bed. A faint beam from the moon filtered through the curtains silhouetting the table and the items that sat upon it. The digital alarm clock read 12:45 a.m.

He leaned back in his chair and told himself again that he couldn’t delay making that call any longer. For almost an hour now he’d been sitting here like this, mulling over all that had happened and putting off the inevitable. Roy had called his buddy in ballistics and gotten the promise of a priority test to confirm if the high-powered rifle found in Alex’s hotel room was, in fact, the one used to kill Saylor. They would have their answer some time tomorrow.

Mitch hadn’t told Roy that he had Alex in custody. What was the point? The search wouldn’t resume until daybreak. That was soon enough to announce the news in Mitch’s opinion, though for the life of him he couldn’t understand why he was delaying that call as well. He told himself that it was the right thing to do. First he needed to interrogate Alex further, and he wanted to do that on his own terms.

She wasn’t up to questioning tonight, that was certain. He hadn’t bothered to tell her about the rifle they’d found either. She might make a run for it in the middle of the night if she thought that new evidence, which made her look even guiltier, had been found. Continuing to behave in a completely unprofessional manner, Mitch had allowed her to finish her coffee and then he’d shown her to his spare room. Fifteen minutes later she’d been sleeping like a baby.

Opting to keep her whereabouts to himself until morning might not really bother anyone connected with the official search, but not telling Ashton was a whole other can of worms. There would be hell to pay if he didn’t tell Ashton. Whatever the man’s personal claim on Alex, as her attorney he wouldn’t appreciate being made to wait a moment longer than necessary.

Pushing to his feet, Mitch blew out a weary breath. He padded across the carpeted floor and sat down on the edge of his unmade bed. Until just over one week ago his professional life had been pretty much a breeze, other than the long hours. The worse thing that ever happened was the occasional drunken brawl at one of the college hangouts, or, even more infrequently, at the campus itself. With its five thousand students, Fulmer College was a pretty busy place. Despite the number of rowdy college students the school seemed to draw, trouble rarely found its way into Raleigh County.

But it sure as hell had waltzed into town with Alex Preston. She’d managed to not only turn his professional world upside down, but his personal life as well.

After calling information and requesting the number for the hotel, Mitch selected the option so the number would be automatically dialed. His voice rusty with sleep, the desk clerk offered his practiced welcome greeting, then transferred the call to Ashton’s room.

He answered on the first ring.

So, Mitch wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. The thought only irritated him all the more. “This is Hayden. I’ve found Alex.”

“Is she all right?”

As had been the case from the start, the anticipation in the other man’s voice was a good deal more than professional concern. His relationship with Alex clearly went much deeper. That shouldn’t bother Mitch, but somehow it did.

“She’s fine.”

“And what does that mean?” Ashton snapped. “The last time you told me she was fine, she’d lost part of her memory. Where is she?”

Mitch struggled to control the unwarranted fury that rocketed inside him. “I said she’s fine. She’s sleeping.”

“Where the hell is she?”

“Here,” Mitch ground out. “At my house.”

The brief silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. “Why is she at your house?” Ashton’s tone was guarded this time, almost accusing.

“She said she figured it was the last place anyone would look.” Mitch massaged his stubbled jaw in an attempt to stop the muscle jerking there.

“Give me directions,” Ashton ordered, “I’ll be right there.”

“No. I told you she’s sleeping.”

More silence.

“You can see her in the morning,” Mitch offered.

“I don’t know what you think you’re up to Hayden, but you’d better think long and hard before you step too far over that line. I won’t tolerate you coming between me and my client.”

Mitch shrugged off his shoulder holster and tossed it onto the bed behind him. “I’m getting tired of your threats, Ashton.” He gritted his teeth to hold back the rest of what he wanted to say. This was Mitch’s county. He didn’t need any big-city know-it-all telling him how to take care of his business.

“You can’t stop me from seeing her, you know that.”

“I have no intention of trying to stop you,” Mitch pointed out. “Be at my office at nine in the morning. You can see her then.”

That tense silence again. “I’ll be there at eight,” Ashton countered hotly, “and if you ask her just one question outside my presence I swear you’ll regret it.”