Debra Webb - Physical Evidence

Alex shook off the worrisome thoughts and forced one foot in front of the other until she found him in the kitchen. He’d poured her a cup of coffee and prepared toast. He stood, leaning against a nearby counter, waiting patiently.

He wanted answers. The evidence against her was apparently considerable since he wasn’t out beating the bushes for another suspect. Or maybe he just hoped she would remember everything and save him the trouble. She sat down and took a much-needed sip of coffee. Her stomach rumbled. She tasted the toast he had gone to the trouble to butter and waited for him to begin his new round of interrogation.

But he didn’t.

Unable to tolerate the prolonged anticipation, she asked, “How does the evidence stack up against me?”

“Your prints are on the murder weapon.” He nodded to the right hand she’d just lifted to take another bite of toast. “You had the powder residue to prove you were holding the weapon when it fired.”

Alex stared at her hand. She swallowed, hard. Her appetite vanished and she dropped the toast back onto the saucer. “Well, there’s a good start for a murder case,” she allowed. She stared directly at him then. “Now all you need is motive, and you can nail me.”

She didn’t miss the little flutter of muscle in his tightly clenched jaw before he responded. “That would help. But then, if I have to, I’ll nail you without it if you killed my deputy.”

Averting her gaze from his intense one, she sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Anxiety coiled in her stomach threatening her flimsy hold on composure, chinking away at her certainty that she was innocent. She had to be. She would never kill anyone unless it was to save her own life—or someone else’s. Some part of her felt like the sheriff knew it, too. Otherwise she would be in a cell.

“You realize, of course, that I don’t have to answer any questions without legal counsel present,” she said then. She hardly recognized the strained voice as her own. God, she was a mess.

“I didn’t ask any questions.” Those too-discerning eyes remained focused on hers.

Alex almost laughed at that one. He wouldn’t ask any questions, because he knew that legally he couldn’t. But he could make her feel the pressure of proving her innocence. “I can’t tell you what happened, because I don’t know,” she admitted with complete candor. “And I don’t know how Miller tied into my investigation, but he isn’t the reason I came here.”

Hayden didn’t say a word. He simply stood there, waiting for her to continue if she chose.

“I came to Shady Grove to look into the disappearance of Marija Bukovak, a foreign exchange student from Croatia.” He didn’t even blink. “She was staying here with a local family, the Malloys. She hasn’t been seen since they left her at the airport about three months ago. Jasna, her sister, didn’t feel like the police had done enough so she asked my agency to see what we could find.”

A subtle change in his expression told her that her last remark didn’t sit too well with him.

“Did she also tell you that there have been a series of murders in the Nashville and Murfreesboro areas that the police believe might be connected to her sister’s disappearance?”

Her brow creased in confusion. There had been no mention of any kind of ongoing investigation connected to Marija’s disappearance. “What murders?”

“The sophomore murders,” he explained. “Six young women were found between April and July of this year, all students at nearby universities. Each was sexually assaulted, strangled to death and then buried in a shallow grave in the woods. The Tennessee Bureau of Investigations apprehended the killer last month. Davidson County thinks maybe the Bukovak girl was one of his victims, but he hasn’t confessed to the crime. She’s the only unsolved case of a missing person from this area that fits the profile.”

“He confessed to having murdered the other six?”

Hayden eyed her speculatively for a couple of seconds before answering. “He did.”

Alex shook her head. “Then he didn’t do the Bukovak girl,” she said succinctly.

He inclined his head and lifted a skeptical brow. “You’re positive about that.”

“Absolutely.” She chewed on a bite of toast as she considered all that he’d told her, then washed it down with more coffee. “Serial killers don’t work that way. If he confessed, he confessed all. He wouldn’t have bothered otherwise.” She frowned. “Unless he’s playing some sort of game. He might reveal bits and pieces if that’s the case.”

“And you would be an expert in that area,” he suggested, still looking skeptical.

“Yes.” She pushed the remainder of her breakfast away. “Didn’t the TBI guys come to the same conclusion?” If they hadn’t, then they needed to be in another line of work.

“That was their feeling, but no one can really be sure.” Hayden glanced at her half-eaten toast. “Are you finished?”

She stood. “I’d like to call Victoria Colby, she’s my boss and I need to check in.”

“I’ve already talked to Mrs. Colby.” He pushed off from the counter. “Come on. We’ll stop by your hotel room and pick up a change of clothes and some shoes.”

Surprised, Alex stared after him as he left the room. “When did you call?” she asked, following him into the hall.

“I didn’t. I flew up there to find out what you were working on.” He stopped and turned to face her.

Alex was a little slower to react, almost running into him before she stopped. When her gaze connected with his she wasn’t prepared for the rush of sensations that accompanied standing so close to him and looking directly into his eyes. Warmth spread through her middle, and her heart kicked into a faster rhythm.

“Your friend Ashton came back with me. He’ll be meeting us at my office at nine.”

“Zach is here?” A smile stretched across her face and a great deal of the weight sagging her shoulders lifted. She needed him right now. At least he would be on her side.

Something changed in the sheriff’s eyes, but Alex couldn’t quite read what she saw there. “He’s here,” Hayden affirmed. “We should get going so we don’t keep him waiting.”

MITCH WATCHED the reunion with growing irritation—mostly with himself. After the emotional embraces and assurances were exchanged, Ashton still managed to find a way to touch Alex. He squeezed her hand…touched her bruised cheek. Mitch hated that it disturbed him so, but it did just the same. He hated even more the curious glances his bringing Alex in had generated among his own men. The glare Ashton had arrowed at him the moment they stepped through the door had been blistering. Any one of those things should have made Mitch realize just how far out of bounds he’d allowed his judgment to go. But none did.

That one night at the diner he and Alex had somehow connected over the blue plate special. Hours of nothing but talking and laughing and too-intense eye contact. He just couldn’t shake that strange bond now. The connection had been electric…still was. And it was playing havoc with his ability to look at this case objectively. Case in point, she’d been lying to him the whole time. Told him that she was just passing through. And he’d believed her. That almost-kiss when he’d walked her to her car that night still stirred his blood.

The very next morning he’d found out who she really was. He’d been furious with himself for being so gullible. It wasn’t going to happen again. And look at him now. The only highlight of the whole mess was that she didn’t seem to remember anything about that night either, and he’d just as soon it stayed that way. He didn’t relish the idea of being recognized as a fool twice.