Lena Diaz - Conflicting Evidence

“No doubt. My apologies if I seemed insensitive.”

His sincere tone went a long way toward defusing her anger. She gave him a crisp nod, accepting his apology.

“Any other employees?”

She hesitated.

“Miss Sterling?”

She glanced at Colin, but his stormy eyes gave her no indication of what he was thinking. “Technically, no. But Mr. Hardy comes by to perform odd jobs for food. He... I believe he may have had some scrapes with the law as well.”

Colin focused his gaze on a spot on the far wall.

“Do you have Mr. Hardy’s address so we can speak to him too?” Landry asked.

“I don’t think he has an address. I’ve offered to let him sleep in our storage room. But he always declines, says something about the stars being his roof.”

“How often does he come around?”

“Pretty much every day. But there’s no need to bother him. Joan will corroborate what I told you about being at the shop.” She rattled off Joan and Melissa’s address at the halfway house where they lived. “Please be polite and nonjudgmental when you speak to them. They’ve had a hard time of it and have been wonderful friends and workers.”

“I’m sure we can figure out how to ask them a few questions without traumatizing or insulting them.”

Since she was feeling a bit traumatized herself, she had little faith in his statement. She wrapped her arms around her middle. How much more of this interrogation was she going to have to endure?

The detective who’d been taking notes about Joan and Melissa picked up his legal pad and left the room.

“Last question, Miss Sterling.”

Thank God.

“You said you haven’t seen your brother in three months, prior to him showing up in your home yesterday. Do you have any ideas about where he might hide given that we’ve got roadblocks and checkpoints all throughout the county?”

She shook her head. “No. I honestly don’t. It’s not like he has any friends left around here. Our house is the only place I’d expect him to go.”

“If you think of something, you’ll let me know?”

“Of course.” Would she? She had no idea. If Brian had indeed killed a police officer, she’d be the first one to turn him in. But he’d been falsely convicted of one crime already. Trusting the police and the judicial system not to pin something else on him wasn’t likely to happen. And she really hadn’t had time to consider where he might hide. Where would he go if he was hunkering down, trying to keep someone from finding him?

The chief motioned to one of the detectives a few seats down, who then got up and handed him the tablet he’d been using during the meeting. Landry studied it a few moments, then turned it around and slid it across the table to Peyton. “Officer Redding typed up your statement, everything you said during our chat.”

Chat? If this was a chat, she couldn’t imagine how awful a real interrogation would have been.

He tapped the screen, scrolling to the top of the form. “Read through that. If you agree that it’s accurate, sign at the bottom. If anything needs correction, have Marshal McKenzie get Detective Redding back in here. Make yourself comfortable while we confirm your alibi. You don’t have your phone do you? I don’t want you calling your employees.”

She automatically felt her jeans pockets. “No. Actually, I don’t. I think it’s in my purse. But I’m not even sure where I left my purse.” A feeling of panic settled in her stomach as she tried to remember where it might be. Her credit cards and pretty much her entire life was in there.

“It’s locked in my desk,” Colin said. “I think your phone was in the side pocket.”

She smiled in relief. “Thank you.”

He nodded.

“That’s settled then.” Landry shoved his chair back and stood. The other people in the room began filing out the door.

“Chief Landry?” she asked.

He paused. “Yes?”

“You seem to be focused entirely on my brother in regards to the escape and the death of Officer Jennings. Is there a reason for that? There were three other convicts involved, based on what you said earlier.”

He smiled. “I assure you that we’re looking into all four men and speaking to anyone who knows them. Perhaps I should have asked just to be sure—have you ever met Damon Patterson, Vincent Snyder or Tyler King?”

“None of those names sound familiar, no. Are they the convicts from the van? Do you think they’re still with my brother or did they split up?”

He smiled. “Thank you again for your cooperation.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Peyton clutched the tablet in front of her, painfully aware that the chief hadn’t answered her questions. “What happens next?” she asked, without looking at Colin beside her.

“We wait. And hope that your alibi checks out.”

“It will. I wasn’t in Memphis yesterday. You believe me, right?” This time she turned to look at him.

He stared at her a long moment, then stood and crossed to the door.

“Colin? You do believe me, don’t you?”

“I’m getting a bottle of water. Want anything?”

She slowly shook her head and he left the room.

It was bad enough that crime scene investigators were combing through every inch of Peyton’s family home, having obtained a search warrant based on Brian being inside earlier today. What was even more humiliating was standing in her own bedroom while a police woman rifled through the bag that Peyton had just packed.

Peyton crossed her arms, frowning at the woman’s profile as she wadded up shirts and pants that Peyton had painstakingly rolled to avoid wrinkles. The woman pulled out yet another pair of Peyton’s underwear, letting the red thong dangle in the air. What did she think? That Peyton was going to smuggle a gun in her undies and attack Colin in his sleep?

“I don’t think they’re your size,” she snapped, unable to put up with the farce any longer.

Unruffled, the officer smiled politely, underwear still suspended in the air. “I’m just doing my job, Miss Sterling.”

“Is there a problem in here?” Colin stepped into the room.

Peyton snatched the thong and tossed it into the overnight bag. “Not at all. Officer...”

“Simmons,” the policewoman supplied, sounding infuriatingly amused.

“Right. Officer Simmons was just complimenting me on my fabric choices. Isn’t that right?”

Simmons rolled her eyes. “You have a nice evening, ma’am.” She stepped past Peyton, nodding at Colin before exiting the room.

“Did I miss something?” Colin asked.

She straightened the contents of the bag as best she could without dumping everything out and starting over. “I’m fairly certain that Officer Simmons was wrinkling my clothes and going as slowly as humanly possible just because—”

“Because you knocked a gun out of a marshal’s hand and let a suspected cop killer get away?”

She stood frozen, his words sinking in. Shame made her face heat. “You’re right. I’m so used to being on the defensive about Brian being innocent that I didn’t look at it from her perspective.”

He stepped to the bed and zipped her bag closed, then hefted it in his hand. “Maybe she was suspicious because you’ve packed half your bedroom in here. I bet this would require extra baggage fees at the airport.”

“It’s not that heavy. I know I packed more than I need for one night. But I always worry that I’ll want something else after I’ve left the house.”

“It’s a good thing you did. I don’t expect you’ll be able to come back here for several days.” He motioned toward the doorway. “Let’s go.”