#laws end

“Just shut up, both of you.” He shook his head as he made his way over to the body where the medical examiner was already crouched over the victim. “Hey, Hana. How’s it going?”

“I can’t complain,” she smiled up at him, “But this poor girl…”

“Yeah. What do we know so far?”

“Blunt force trauma to the head.”

The apartment was swarming with officers. One of them approached him, “You must be the homicide detective from the seventh precinct.”

“That’s right, Liam Rys.” He shook the squat balding guy's hand.”

“Steve Carlson. The twelfth precinct is happy to collaborate with you, but this is our case.”

“Of course, but the vic was a suspect in my case.”

As the two detectives hammered out jurisdictional concerns, Drake made his way over to Riley. “You sure know how to get a guy sideways with people he’s supposed to be getting along with.”

“How was I supposed to know our witness was going to be dead when we got here?”

He just smiled as he shook his head. “I told you that you were going to be trouble.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.” She teased.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he mused.

“Have you learned anything new?”

“You’ve been with me the entire time we’ve been here.”

“Not true. You were with the police when they searched the place while I was exiled to this couch, waiting to be questioned.”

“Well, I didn’t learn much except…”

Riley perked up. “Except what?”

Drake paused to consider what he should tell her. His client had only hired him to investigate Trent’s murder. Sarah’s murder was likely related, but he couldn’t fathom a motive for either Katie or William Sloan to have killed her. So what he had learned didn’t fall under client privilege. He didn’t see how the information could hurt his client, and that’s all he cared about.

“Except that the murder weapon was her own rolling pin.”

“She was killed with a rolling pin?”

“It was one of those heavy, marble ones.”

“Huh.”

“Huh, what?”

“Weapon of opportunity.”

“Looks like it.”

“Just like Trent’s gun.”

“That’s a pattern.”

“Yeah… but…. “

“What?”

“Ok, so the motive was jealousy. Sabrina kills Trent, then gets in her car and goes to kill Sarah, right?”

“That’s the working theory, yeah.”

“Why didn’t she just bring the gun with her? I mean, she didn’t know there would be a handy murder weapon lying around this place. She could have just brought the gun.”

“Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly. She shot Trent and panicked.”

“Panicked.” Riley raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Then drove across town to kill the mistress?”

“Am I supposed to understand how murderers think?”

“Yes. I would think so. It’s your job.”

“I mostly track down cheating spouses and runaway kids, Riley.”

“This is your first murder?”

“Well, no, but still—”

“Come on. What else have you got? You must know something.”

“I know that the police found two airline tickets in Trent’s possession, and Sarah’s bedroom looks like she was packing for a trip.”

“So, Trent and Sarah were about to skip town together?”

“Looks that way. And there was an engagement ring with the tickets.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “So, Sabrina found out he was about to wife up her competition?”

Drake nodded. “Motive enough for you?”

“Maybe,” Riley’s gaze swept around the room distractedly.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Seems pretty cut and dried to me.”

They were distracted by a disturbance at the door. A plainclothesman was yelling, “Sir! Sir! You can’t be in here!”

They turned to find Max in the doorway. “I was just—”

The man yelling at Max whirled on the uniformed officer who seemed to be escorting him and continued, “What the fuck are you doing letting a reporter up here?”

“Reporter?” The cop recoiled. “I thought he was the crime scene photographer!”

Returning his attention to the man with the camera, the plainclothesman shook his head. “You do realize it’s a crime to impersonate—”

“I wasn’t impersonating anyone! I was called to the scene!”

“By who?”

“That would be me.” Riley stood up and waved to Max.

“You have no authority to—”

She blinked innocently at the officer. “I just needed a ride home. I’m too shook up to drive.”

The man grunted in consternation. “Fine. But he can wait for you downstairs.” Turning back to Max, he made a shooing motion, “Go!”

“I’ll be waiting outside,” Max called to Riley as he was roughly escorted from the apartment.

Drake turned to her in astonishment. Lowering his voice so the police wouldn’t overhear, he hissed, “You drove yourself here. And if you’re really too upset to drive…which I sincerely doubt, I could have given you a ride home. I’m right here.”

She shrugged and gave him a devious grin. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” Her fingers flew over her keyboard as she texted Max to get photos of the outside of the building and the police going in and out.

He reached out, grabbed her arm, and dragged her closer. “Yes, they can actually! Do not give them a reason to charge you for impeding an investigation!”

“I’m happy to know you care, but they can’t arrest me for calling a friend for a ride.”

“Don’t play stupid, Riley. It doesn’t suit you. You’re a reporter, he’s your photographer, and he totally just tried to bullshit his way into a crime scene.”

“Max just gets enthusiastic—”

“Max does whatever you tell him to do. I’ve known you for a day, and I already know that. He’s young and naïve, and if you’re not careful, you’re going to get him in trouble.”

“And you’re underestimating him. Max can take care of himself.”

“Yeah? And how would you feel if he got arrested because of your antics?”

“Antics?” She arched an amused eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, antics. It’s a valid word!”

“Ok, grandpa.”

“Grandpa? Really?”

Riley shrugged. “If the shoe fits…”

Drake grunted in consternation. “Whatever. Just answer the question. How would you feel if you got him arrested?”

“Well, if he managed to get himself arrested, which is highly unlikely, mind you, then I’m sure his family would send a cadre of lawyers to get him out and probably sue the police for arresting him in the first place.”

Drake blinked. “Who’s his family?”

Riley’s mouth fell open. “Seriously? He’s a Beaumont! Didn’t you notice his last name when you were writing those checks to him?”

It took Drake’s brain several seconds before the pieces fell into place. “Wait. You mean those Beaumonts?”

“Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Riley! Maybe because it never occurred to me that a member of a notorious crime family would be moonlighting as a photographer for what amounts to peanuts!”

“First of all, all the crime was committed by his great-grandfather, and allegedly his grandfather, not him. The Beaumonts are legitimate now! Second of all—”

Drake snorted loudly. “Yeah, okay.” Everyone knew that Beaumont Enterprises was a front for organized crime. Or at least suspected it. No one had ever been able to prove any accusation. Probably because of all the lawyers.

“They are! And even if they weren’t…. that’s hardly Max’s fault.”

“Hey, I get it.” He put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “No one likes to be judged by their family.”

Something in his tone drew a sharp gaze from her. “Judging from my research, your family seems pretty exemplary. Something I missed?”

He shook his head emphatically. “I’m just saying, some people may be trying to live down their family’s infamy, while others are busy trying to live up to an impossible standard.”

Her demeanor softened. “I get that.”

“Really?” He sounded skeptical. “Judging from my research, you’re the most successful person in your family.”

“Really.” She nudged him gently. “All that success is a stunning disappointment to parents who saved all their lives to pay for their daughter’s wedding and want nothing more than grandchildren.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry.”

“Nah. It’s fine. I’ve learned to live with it.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re amazing.”

“Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”

They both looked up at the sound of a throat clearing. Liam fidgeted uncomfortably. “Am I interrupting something?”

Drake was the one who answered. “Nothing we can’t continue later. Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to let Miss Brooks know that she’s free to go and to remind you not to keep spilling secrets to the press.”

“I didn't spill anything she wouldn't have found out on her own.” A note of admiration crept into his voice as he continued, “Have you read any of her articles? Do you know how many awards she’s won?”

Liam frowned. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, she's really good at what she does. She doesn’t have to steal information from me. She’s the one who pointed me to Sarah in the first place.”

“Did she now?” Liam turned a thoughtful gaze to the reporter. “How did you find out about Sarah?”

“I’m an investigative journalist, Detective. I investigated.”

“If you had information pertinent to the case, why didn’t you share it with law enforcement?”

“I did.” Riley gestured to Drake.

“Right.” Liam scoffed. “In the future, please refer any and all relevant information about my active murder investigation to me. The officer in charge. Got it?”

“Got it.” She gave him a mock salute.

“Riley,” he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I know you’re mocking me, but I’m serious. There are protocols and procedures for a reason! I’m simply trying to do my job, catch the bad guys and keep the general public, including you, safe!”

“I know, Liam. I just—”

“Do you? Because I have a code of conduct that I live by, and I take my oath to the badge seriously!”

“I do know that. You are an honorable man, Detective Rys. Which is something I really admire and respect about you.”

Surprise flashed across his face. “Do you really feel that way?”

“Yes, Liam, I do.”

Drake cleared his throat. “Ok, I don’t mean to interrupt a moment here, but—"

“There’s no moment.” Liam snapped.

“Are you sure? Because to me, it looked like—”

“I’m sure. I just wanted to impress upon Miss Brooks the importance of staying out the way of an active investigation.”

“So just to be clear, you're not interested in dating her?”

“No!”

“Great!” Drake crowed before turning his attention back to Riley. “Now, about that dinner…”

Liam paled. “Wait—"

Drake slapped him on the back with a grin. “Too late, no take backs!”

Riley shook her head. “Guys, I’m standing right here!”

“Detective!” A plainclothesman approached Liam with a cell phone in his hand. “The chief has a question for you.”

“Alright, I’ll be right there.” He gave one last look over his shoulder before walking away. “I mean it, stay out the way, Riley.”

“Yeah. I will.”

Flynn skimmed the information in front of him. “This was three years ago.”

Liam nodded. “It’s likely that she stopped harassing Cole when she started sleeping with Trent.”

There was a knock on the conference room door and Rashad entered, carrying a laptop. “There are no security cameras at the vic’s apartment complex, but I found a late model Nissan Pathfinder registered to the suspect and scrubbed video footage from nearby traffic cameras.” He placed the laptop on the table and flipped it around for the detectives to see.

Liam leaned forward to get a closer look. “Is that our suspect?”

“Yes,” Rashad confirmed, “Three blocks away from our vic’s house, heading that direction, fifteen minutes before the 911 call. And this….” He swiped to another image. “…is her ten minutes after the call heading the other direction through the same intersection.”

“We need more than that for an arrest warrant,” Flynn said as he zoomed in, looking for any evidence of blood visible in the photo, but it was too grainy. “It’s not illegal to be in the vicinity.”

Liam pushed away from the table. “Let’s get back over to the apartment complex and show her photo to the neighbors. Maybe someone will remember seeing her that morning.”

An hour later, he was seated in a small but elegant dining room as Stella Haltom served him coffee. Flynn was canvassing other neighbors, ones they hadn’t been able to reach yesterday.

Liam had tried to decline, but Stella was insistent.

“You’re very young for a homicide detective, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I—”

“Are you single?”

“I am. But—”

“Really? A young, handsome, successful man like you?”

“Well—”

“You know, if things don’t work out between my granddaughter and that nice reporter—”

Liam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Ma’am, if we could get back to business. I just have a few quick questions—”

“Oh, yes, of course! You wanted me to look at more photos?”

“Well, one more.” Liam pulled up the photograph of Sabrina Simmons on his cell phone and held it out to her.

“Oh, my yes!” Stella somehow managed to convey disapproval with a nod of her head. “That was the one that was over there the most.”

“Did he entertain a lot of women?”

Stella snorted so hard she choked on her coffee. Once she recovered her breath, she clarified, “Whatever you think a lot is, multiply that by at least three!”

“That many?”

“Yes, and now that I think of it, two days before the murder, this one,” she gestured toward his phone, “showed up while one of the other ones was there.”

“Was there an argument?”

“Was there an argument?” She scoffed as a frown pulled her lips down. “Woke half the building with the screaming. I’m surprised no one called the cops.”

“Thank you. This is very helpful. Did you happen to see her on the day of the murder?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. I was gone for most of the morning.”

“Where were you, again?”

“I left to help organize the church rummage sale early that morning.”

Liam checked his notes. “So, you overheard the argument between the two men when?”

“On my way out. I had to walk past Mr. Hayes’ apartment on my way to the elevator.”

“Just to review… you overheard the argument at roughly seven a.m., left for the church, followed by brunch, and returned home just after noon.”

“That’s correct.”

“So, you were home when the gunshots were fired?”

“Yes.” She shuddered. “It was terrifying!”

“And you didn’t see or hear anyone else coming or going from his apartment that day?”

“No.”

“Is there anything you can think of that you noticed that day? Anything at all?”

“I already told you everything yesterday. And that lovely reporter as well.”

Liam sighed at the mention of Riley. He couldn’t forbid a private citizen from speaking to the press, no matter how much he wanted to. But it did remind him of something. “Speaking of Miss Brooks… she mentioned you saw a woman at the victim’s apartment the night before the murder?”

“Yes.”

“Was that woman either of these?” He showed her the photographs of both Sabrina and Katie again.

Stella peered at both, then shook her head. “No.”

“Do you know who she was?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep up with all the women that were in and out of that apartment. Besides, I don’t like to get into other people’s business.”

It took a concerted effort for him to not react to such an obviously false statement.

He jotted down a general description of the woman before extricating himself from the conversation. “Okay, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

“I’m always happy to help the boys in blue!” she smiled proudly. “You have my number in case you have any further questions, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve got it.” Liam flipped his notepad closed. “If you think of anything else, please let us know.”

He stepped out into the hallway and reconvened with his partner. “How’d it go on your end?”

Flynn shrugged. “I found multiple witnesses that identified Sabrina Simmons as Trenton Hayes’ girlfriend, but none that could definitively place her at the scene on the day of the murder.”

“I confirmed there was a third woman here the night before the murder, but I don’t know who.”

“We’ll have the plainclothes canvas again and try to find that information. I think it’s time you and I go have a conversation with Ms. Simmons.”

“Agreed.” Liam pushed the button for the elevator. When it dinged open, he found himself face to face with Riley. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too.” She stepped back so they could fit into the lift with her. “Probably the same thing you are.”

Liam made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat as they stepped into the elevator. “Where’s your sidekick this morning?”

“Max?” She looked surprised at his question. “I don’t know. Probably sleeping in after that late night we all had. Why do you ask?”

Liam shrugged. “I’m just used to seeing the two of you together.”

“When I need a photographer.” She studied his demeanor, then a small grin crept across her face. “Why so interested in who I spend my time with, detective?”

“I’m not.”

Before she could answer, the elevator rocked to a stop on the first floor and the doors slid open. As they stepped off, a familiar face caught her eye. “Drake!”

The PI turned from the concierge desk to face the trio, his eyes lighting up. “Riley! What a pleasant surprise!” He was less enthusiastic as he greeted the two men. “Hello, detectives.”

The men exchanged handshakes as Liam asked, “Why are you here, Walker?”

“I’m investigating the murder of Trent Hayes. I was officially retained to do so this morning by Sadie McGraw. I was thinking it would be in both our best interests to collaborate.”

“I don’t know—”

Flynn’s phone cut through the conversation. He pulled it out and glanced down at the screen. “This is the boss. Hold on.”

Flynn stepped away to take the call, leaving Riley with Liam and Drake.

Not awkward at all.

After a brief conversation, Flynn returned to inform the group, “The chief just got out of a meeting with the mayor. We are to collaborate and cooperate fully with Walker here.”

“Great!” Drake gloated.

“Great,” Liam grumbled.

Flynn shot a pointed look at Riley. “If you’ll excuse us, ma’am, we have a case to discuss.”

“Don’t let me get in your way. I’m just going to grab a latte and update my notes.” She gave them a disarming smile and turned on her heel, disappearing into the small coffee shop located just off the main entrance.

She really was going to update her notes, but she had no intention of leaving without an update on the case. Liam was never going to crack, but she liked her chances of getting information out of Drake. She fired off a quick text as she waited for her drink.

Ten minutes later, Drake was at her table. “You said you had some information for me?”

“I said I was willing to trade information with you.” She gestured for him to sit as the barista approached to take his order.

He ordered a black coffee and then returned his attention to the reporter. “What information do you have that I can’t find out for myself?”

“Maybe none.” She lifted a shoulder. “But it took me three hours of knocking on doors to find out the identity of the woman Trent was with the night before the murder. You could spend the next three hours doing the same or we could help each other out.”

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. He didn’t have to reveal anything about his client to slip her the information about who the police were looking at as their prime suspect. “I suppose I could share a detail or two. You’re going to find it out on your own anyway.”

Her eyebrows raised. “How do you know that?”

“Because I did a little digging. Your investigative skills are impressive. No wonder you’ve won the Edward R. Murrow Award for journalism as well as two Scripps Awards.”

Her eyebrows arched even higher as she took a long sip of her latte before placing the cup carefully on the table in front of her. “Wow. You really did do your homework. I don’t know whether to be impressed or alarmed. Are you stalking me, sir?”

“Hardly.” He snorted. “Are you going to tell me that you did absolutely no research on me after agreeing to a date?”

“I agreed to dinner. No one said it was a date.”

“Semantics, but fine. Dinner. Answer the question. Did you not look into me at all?”

“You mean did I find out that you graduated from the police academy at the top of your class but quit six months into your first year to go into business with your father? That you have one sister, Savannah, and that you’ve never been married?”

He gave her a smug smile. “I knew you were into me.”

“Please,” she laughed, “It’s just common sense to find out what you can about a man you plan to be alone with.”

He leaned across the table with a smirk. “So, you plan to be alone with me?”

She hid a grin behind her cup. “At the very least I’ll be getting into a car alone with you when we go to dinner.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, we’ll see how the evening progresses, won’t we?”

“Can’t wait.”

“Now, are you going to tell me what you learned from the cops?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to tell me who the woman from the other night is?”

“If your information is good enough.”

“I know who their prime suspect is.”

“Is it Katie or William Sloan or Dean Collins?”

“No.”

She sat up straighter. “There’s another suspect in play?”

He twirled his coffee cup in his fingers. “Yep.”

“Okay. Yes, that’s a fair trade. Who is it?”

“Sabrina Simmons. She was his secretary when he was engaged to Katie. He cheated on Katie with Sabrina. That’s the reason they broke up. After Katie dumped him, Sabrina became his girlfriend. Last weekend, she showed up while he was entertaining someone else. Several neighbors heard the argument. The theory is that she got fed up with his womanizing. She has a history of stalking, and the cheating gives her motive.”

“Interesting theory, because the woman that was there Monday night is his current secretary.”

“Sounds like he has a history of sleeping with his secretary. What’s her name?”

“Sarah Foster. She’s not at work today. I already called.”

“Well, her boss slash boyfriend was murdered yesterday. I can track down a home address for her.”

“Way ahead of you.” She shoved her notes into her bag as she stood up. “Wanna go question her together?”

“How the hell did you get her address already?”

It was Riley’s turn to smirk. “I have my sources.”

“Okay, let’s go. But I’m driving.”

“I don’t want to leave my car here. I’ll meet you there. Here’s the address.” She quickly scribbled the information on a piece of paper.

He threw some money on the table to cover the coffee, took the slip of paper from her, and then pulled his phone out and opened the contact list.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding up my end of the deal with the CCPD. Collaboration works both ways.”

“Could you at least wait until after we have a chance to talk to her?”

He hesitated as he considered her request. “Why?”

“Because you and I both know that once the police get there, I won’t be allowed to talk to her! Police protocol this and interfering with an investigation that, blah, blah, blah… Come on…. You wouldn’t even know who she was if it wasn’t for me.”

“I would have eventually knocked on the right door and found out.”

“Yeah, hours from now, by which time I would have already interviewed her for my article. Don’t make me regret sharing information with you.”

“Fine.” He slotted the phone back into his pocket. “You get ten minutes with her, then I’m making the call.”

“Deal. Let’s go!”

The drive from Vista Heights to Sarah’s apartment complex took nearly forty-five minutes. Riley found Drake waiting for her in front of the entrance.

The apartment complex was a stark contrast to Trent’s. A dingy brick building surrounded by other dingy brick buildings, it had no doorman, and the front door was propped open. There was certainly no concierge desk or coffee shop in the lobby.

No elevator came when Drake pushed the button. “Looks like we’re taking the stairs.”

“Good thing she’s only on the fourth floor.”

As they approached apartment 412, Drake suddenly stopped and put his arm out to halt Riley.

“What?”

“Shhh….” He moved in front of her and pulled a gun from his hip. “The door is cracked open. Stay here.”

Riley Brooks hadn’t built her career by standing down. The moment Drake pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold, she followed, keeping quiet so he wouldn’t notice.

“Hello? Is anyone home? Sarah?” He called out as he made his way through the living room. He entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. “Well, shit.”

Riley entered right behind him, craning her neck to peer around him. Well, shit was right.

“William Sloan most certainly did not murder Trent Hayes! Are you out of your mind?”

Olivia doubled down. “If there wasn’t some reason to suspect him, Liam wouldn’t have brought him in for questioning!”

While the mayor and the DA were having their showdown, Drake Walker was pacing the floor, waiting for his turn in interrogation.

He was a person of interest. Presumably, because someone had ratted him out to the police about his business relationship with William Sloan. His eyes scoured the open office area until he spotted her.

Riley saw him coming and made a strategic exit to the woman’s room. She almost ran over the sketch artist from earlier. “Oof! Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Lillith assured her. “Who are you hiding from?”

“What makes you think I’m hiding from anyone?”

“I recognize the panic.”

“Wait. Who are you hiding from?”

“My sister.”

Riley’s brain spun to catch up. Then realization washed over her. She should have made the connection before. Nevrakis was not a common name. “The DA is your sister?”

Lilith flinched a little. “Half-sister. She hates me.”

“Why?”

Lilith shrugged. “Something about my whore of a mother breaking her mother’s heart.”

“Oh….” Riley was rarely struck speechless, but she had no idea how to respond to that.

“Sorry!” Lilith dropped her face into her hands. “That was TMI and now I’ve made things awkward!”

“No, no, you’re fine!” Riley assured her. “Trust me. As a reporter, I’ve heard every damn thing. That’s not even in the top ten for most awkward.”

Lilith smiled wanly. “I’d like to hear that top ten list then.”

“Sure. We should get drinks sometime.”

“Really?” The sketch artist searched her face to see if she was joking.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, yeah, I’d like that.” This time, the smile was bigger, brighter. Lilith didn’t have a lot of friends, tended to be socially awkward, and was used to being somewhat of a pariah in certain upper society circles because of her status as the bastard child of an extramarital affair.

Riley eased the door open to peer through the crack. “Unless you have any information about the case you’re willing to give me, I need to get back out there.”

Meanwhile, in Interrogation Room One…

“I get it.” Flynn eyed the man sitting across the table from him. “Beautiful woman. Rich, powerful husband. You don’t want to get sidewise with him, so when Trent started blackmailing her, threatening her—”

“I told you I know nothing about that!” Dean yanked on the chains holding him to the table, making the hard metal slam against the wood with a satisfying clang.

“You didn’t know he was blackmailing her?”

“No!”

“Did you know he found out about the affair?”

“No!”

“So, you don’t deny the affair?”

“What?” Dean looked up at him with a defeated expression. “No.”

“Okay, good. We’re getting somewhere. So, you were sleeping with her and—”

“I love her!”

“Okay, okay.” Flynn held his hands up in surrender. “You’re in love. And this man threatened her—”

Dean heaved a sigh and slumped back in his seat. “How many times do I have to tell you that I knew nothing about that?”

Interrogation Room Two….

“Here you go, buddy.” Liam sat a bottle of ice-cold water on the table and slid it across to the CEO of Sloan Enterprises. “Sorry about all this. But we have evidence your wife is having an affair and was being blackmailed by the victim. You understand how that gives you motive, right?”

William fixed the detective with a steely glare, remaining silent.

“So, how did it go down? She missed a payment? He called you up and told you? When confronted with proof of the affair, you snapped, shot the messenger so to speak? It’s understandable. Heat of the moment. The sooner you tell me what happened, the sooner I can help you.”

William leaned forward and pushed the water bottle back across the table. “I want my lawyer. Now!”

Interrogation Room Three….

Bertrand stood in the doorway of the room in his somehow perfectly pressed suit and tapped a file folder against the palm of his other hand as he regarded the woman in front of him. “Did you do it yourself, or did you have someone else shoot him? Leo Rys, maybe?”

Katie sniffed as she lifted an imperious gaze to the man across from her. “I had nothing to do with Trent’s death, but I would certainly like to thank whoever did. He was the worst kind of pond scum, and he won’t be missed.”

“Not exactly the type of sentiments that will exonerate you, Mrs. Sloan.”

She gave him a coy smile. “Please. Call me Katie.”

Bertrand’s dour expression never changed. “I don’t think you grasp the gravity of the situation, Mrs. Sloan.”

A mirthful laugh bubbled out of her. “I’m not worried because I didn’t do it.”

“Who else had more of a motive than you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to that psycho he cheated on me with?” Her face lit up with clear hatred.

Bertrand languidly raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”

“Sabrina Simmons!”

“Are they still an item?”

“If they are, he’s cheating on her, I guarantee it, and you know what they say about a woman scorned. Besides, she has a history of stalking behavior. She’s fucking crazy!”

Bertrand made a noncommittal sound in his throat as he jotted the name down on his notepad.

Back in the main office area…

Riley was trying to sweet talk a crime scene investigator when Drake caught up with her. “Rashad. That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” Even with his dark complexion, the blush that spread across his features was noticeable.

“There you are!” Drake’s voice boomed out as he grasped her upper arm firmly and pulled her away from Rashad. “I think we’re overdue for a conversation.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what—”

Rashad was suddenly serious. “Hey! Is everything okay?”

Riley’s eyes darted back and forth between the two men, noting the tension in both sets of shoulders. Diffusing the situation was preferable to escalating it, so she smiled sweetly at Rashad. “It’s fine. He’s right. We have a previous…. agreement we need to discuss.”

“Oh.” The other man looked disappointed, but excused himself with a regretful glance back at the reporter.

“Did you rat me out to the cops, Riley?” Drake asked as he pulled her to the side of the room for a private conversation.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then why have I been brought in for questioning? Why is my client in an interrogation room right now?”

“Your client is in an interrogation room because his wife got busted with her lover tonight by the lead detective on the case.” Riley pulled her arm out of his grasp, but moved her body closer to his. “As for figuring out he hired you as a PI, I’m assuming that was their own detective work because I did not rat you out!”

He wanted to believe her. All CCPD had to do to find him was to run Sloan’s financials. Or Max’s. “Hm. Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be a giant pain in my ass? Tell me this, who pointed them in the Sloan’s direction in the first place?”

“A private citizen who witnessed—”

Drake’s lips pressed into a thin line as he shook his head. “Maxwell Beaumont was not a private citizen when he took those photographs!”

A scathing voice cut through their conversation. “Did she sleep with you for information, too?”

They both turned to find Liam approaching, with Max hot on his heels.

Drake took a step back in confusion. “What? We haven’t slept together!”

“Yet,” Max mumbled under his breath. His eyes widened when he realized Liam might have heard him. He cleared his throat and began to fiddle with his camera, pretending to ignore the conversation.

Riley shot a murderous expression at Liam. “For the last time, Liam, that’s not what happened!”

Drake blinked as he processed the insinuation. Moving his attention back to Riley, he asked, “You slept with him for information?”

“No, I did not.” She replied through gritted teeth.

“Come on, Walker.” Liam gestured toward the interrogation room. “We need to have a discussion about what services you provided for William Sloan.”

Drake turned his head to watch Riley over his shoulder as he followed the detective, mumbling the whole time about client privacy.

As Liam and Drake walked down the hall toward the interrogation rooms, they passed William Sloan and his lawyer, Sadie McGraw, on their way out.

The moment Madeleine saw William and Sadie, she scurried after them, apologizing profusely for the misunderstanding.

Bertrand and Flynn walked into the open office area deep in conversation, comparing notes about their respective interrogations. Olivia approached them before they could make it to Bertrand’s office, a dark haired young man trailing behind her. She wasted no time demanding answers about the investigation.

Bertrand ushered everyone into his office, where the DA was given all the latest updates on the case.

When the detectives were finished talking, Olivia nodded her head. “Between Trent’s bank account showing deposits from Katie and Dean’s confession of the affair, I think Kiara will sign off on a search warrant for the Sloan properties and bank accounts.” She turned to bark at the law intern who had been shadowing her for weeks. “Anton! Get Judge Theron on the phone!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Anton squeaked as he fumbled for his phone.

Thirty minutes later, the CCPD had a search warrant, Drake was released from interrogation and Bertrand was yelling at Riley and Max to get out of his station house.

“What are you doing at my desk?”

Riley looked up into Liam’s stormy expression as she closed the lid of her laptop. “Updating my story. I promise I didn’t look through your files!”

“This time.”

“That’s what I said.” She gave him a disarming smile as she rose and started stuffing the computer, notepads, and pens into her taupe, Saffiano leather Kate Spade laptop tote. “I didn’t read any of your files this time.”

It had been a long day; he was tired; he was irritated; he was ready for a break in this case… and yet something about her infectious grin and the teasing lilt in her voice pulled a begrudging smile from him. He shook his head in wonderment. How did she keep getting under his skin?

He called out to her as she walked away. “Hey, Riley!”

She turned back to face him. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. Your intel was actually helpful tonight.”

Her grin broadened into a full fledged smile, lighting up her whole face. “You’re welcome, detective. See you around.”

She found Drake and Max both waiting for her at the homicide office door. She directed her attention to Drake. “What are you still doing here?”

“Just got out of interrogation, thanks to someone who doesn’t understand confidentiality.” There was no accusation in his tone, just a simple statement of fact.

“It’s not my fault your client was implicated in a homicide.”

“Oh, I’m not blaming you.” He replied as he looked past her to shoot daggers at Max.

Max blinked. “What did I do?”

Drake shook his head as he pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. She’s with me.” Max flushed a deep shade of crimson. “We’re both in my car, I mean!”

“Then I’ll walk you both out. Can’t be too careful. It’s late, and this is Cordonia City.”

“I’m perfectly capable of protecting her.”

Drake’s eyes ran quickly and dismissively over the younger man. “Sure you are, kid.”

The three stepped out into the dimly lit, air-conditioned hallway as Liam watched them leave with curiosity, regret, and annoyance mingling in his expression.

The ancient, decrepit elevator dinged as it rocked to a stop on the first floor and the doors slid creakily open.

Neville VanCouer was arguing with the front desk sergeant. “I heard suspects were brought in for questioning. I just want to get a statement—”

“Heard? Or read it in my story?” Riley gloated.

Neville looked like his head was about to explode. “Why were they allowed in?”

The desk sergeant’s bored expression never changed as he shrugged. “Came in with a homicide detective.”

“How?”

Another shrug from the sergeant.

Neville spun on Riley. “The updates you’ve been posting…someone is giving you insider information!”

She gave him a saccharine sweet smile. “Or I’m just a better reporter than you.”

Neville took a step toward her, but Drake moved quickly, inserting himself between Riley and the other reporter. “Why don’t you go harass someone else?”

Neville glared at Drake, but he stepped back. The showdown was broken by Neville’s photograph, who had just reappeared from the men’s room. “Hey! That’s the guy that told me there was a door open around back!”

Max lifted a shoulder innocently. “There was when I was back there.”

The other man’s eyes narrowed. “Then why haven’t any crime scene photos been published anywhere?”

“Ah…. technical difficulties.”

The photographer looked skeptically between Max and Neville, as if trying to decide if Max was lying.

Neville shook his head, “It’s not worth it, Tariq. Come on, let’s go.”

“See?” Drake was almost gloating. “You needed me.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Neville is annoying and slimy, but he’s not dangerous.”

“Yeah,” Max chimed in, “And we’re standing in a police station.”

“Listen.” Riley decided to get the elephant in the room out of the way. “I know you think I threw you under the bus with Liam. I’ll understand if you want to cancel our dinner plans.”

“Oh, we’re still going to dinner.”

Riley’s brows furrowed in confusion. “But I thought you said—”

Inside, the place was alive with activity. To the right as patrons entered the front door, a highly polished bar stretched halfway down the length of the room, curving around at both ends. A big screen TV on the wall above the bar was tuned to ESPN. Bottles clanked as the bartender served drinks and the hum of twenty different conversations floated across the open area.

As Max detoured for the bar itself, Leo guided Riley to a table near the back. He wasn’t even seated before a waitress appeared at his side, “Hey Leo, Riley. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

Riley arched an eyebrow at her companion, “You really have been here before! You must be a regular if Siobhan knows your name.”

“I used to be a regular,” he grunted as he waved away the drink menu, “The usual.”

“You got it sugar,” the waitress winked at him before turning to Riley, “What are you having tonight?”

After they gave their drink order and Siobhan left to fill it, Riley focused her attention on Leo, “Okay. You promised me details about the case so start spilling.”

“No, no, no, Ms. Brooks, nothing is free in this life. The price for what I know is you telling me what’s going on with you and my brother, remember?”

“I remember. But I’m not very trusting, so you first.” She sat a recording device on the table between them, pushed play, and looked at him expectantly.

Leo threw his head back with a laugh, “All right. I see how it is. You don’t trust the disgraced cop that you just met fifteen minutes ago. Fair enough.”

Leo passed along the information that he had gleaned from his interrogation while Riley furiously scribbled notes.

They discussed the case as the waitress came and went. When everything else had been covered, Riley asked, “What’s your connection to Katie Sloan?”

Leo nearly dropped his drink, “What makes you think I have-“

“Your entire demeanor changes when you mention her. You flirt shamelessly with the waitress and you’ve been eye fucking the blond at the table behind us for the last ten minutes, but when you talk about Kaite, there’s a tenderness in your tone and you keep steering the conversation away from her every time she comes up.”

“You really don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“I try not to. I’d be a pretty shitty reporter if I didn’t notice details.”

“Listen. Katie and I have a past and I don’t want to-“

“You want me to tell you intimate details about my personal life, I expect the same level of transparency from you.”

“Shit,” he stared at his beer bottle as he fidgeted with the corner of the label, “I just don’t want a hatchet job done on her in the paper.”

“I understand and if you’re worried about her being slut shamed for cheating on her husband, well I won’t do that but if she murdered a man-“

“She didn’t!”

“Leo, all the details are going to be public soon enough then every paper in the state will be reporting on it. I’m your best chance at spinning a more positive image for her and mitigating the fallout. Her husband is going to find out. There’s no way Liam isn’t going to bring both her and him in for questioning and you know it.”

“Fine,” he leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair, “We dated briefly several years ago, before she hooked up with that Trent guy. That’s our connection.”

“That’s not why you were threatening him.”

Leo heaved a loud sigh, “No it wasn’t. Damn, you’re better at this than the cops, girl.”

“So, tell me why you were threatening him.”

“Can you promise me you won’t make Katie look like a horrible person in your story?”

“I can promise to do my best to spin her in the best possible light and minimize the damage, but I’m in the business of reporting the facts.”

“Fair enough I guess.”

When Leo was finished telling Riley the same basic facts he’d told Liam he sat his beer on the table in front of him with a thunk and gave her a pointed look, “Now I believe you owe me the story of why you showing up at the precinct rattled my brother so much.”

“Because something happened between us that he’s trying to convince himself he regrets.”

“Why would he want to do that?”

“He thinks I used him. Seduced him just to get confidential information for a story I was working on.”

“And did you do that?”

“No! Well…kind of…”

“So, which is it? Yes, or no? There doesn’t seem to be much room for grey area here.”

“Yes, I knew who he was, and he had no idea who I was. Yes, I targeted him specifically because he was the detective assigned to the case I was covering-“

“Starting to sound a lot like Liam was right…”

“No! I don’t have sex with sources in exchange for information. I will, however, flirt shamelessly. You’d be surprised how much information I can get out of a man just by showing him a little attention.”

“No, I would not,” Leo smirked as his eyes ran down her body.

“Anyway….” she rolled her eyes as she shifted in her seat, “My plan was to do a little flirting to see what I could shake loose. Get him to drink with me. Drunk people talk more. But your brother was an impossible nut to crack. Impenetrable. He wasn’t giving anything up!”

Leo laughed, “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“I honestly gave up and if you knew me, you’d know how huge that is. I don’t give up easily.”

“I could have guessed that about you. So why does he think you used him for information if he didn’t give you any?”

“I’m getting to that! We ended up talking all night about things unrelated to the case and the attraction was real! I hadn’t planned on going home with him, but that’s what happened. Because there was a real vibe and we clicked.”

“I’m sensing a but in there somewhere.”

“We went back to his place, and it was…well, it was…” An involuntary smile pulled her mouth up as the memories of that night danced through her head.

Leo groaned, “Yeah, that’s far enough, please don’t paint me a picture!”

Riley laughed then her smile faded, “But I got up in the middle of the night for a drink of water. I didn’t want to wake him, so I found my own way around the kitchen. On my way back I noticed the file laying on the desk…”

“And you read it?”

Riley had the good grace to look ashamed, “Read it, photographed it, quoted it in my article.”

“Wow, that’s a really big but,” Leo shook his head as he signaled the waitress for another round, “I don’t know whether to be impressed or disappointed in you.”

“Liam was understandably furious and hurt.”

“You sound troubled by that.”

“I mean, I knew he was going to be mad, but I didn’t realize how mad.”

“That bad, huh?”

“That bad. We’re not really on speaking terms.”

“You want to know what the most disturbing part of that whole story is?”

“What’s that?”

“The part where you slept with my brother, putting yourself off limits to me,” his eyes glittered with humor as he tipped his bottle to her.

Riley scoffed, “I doubt you have any trouble attracting women.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know…the boyish good looks, the devil may care attitude, the sparkling blue eyes, the bad boy demeanor, those goddamn dimples!”

“What makes you think I’m a bad boy?”

“Oh, you’re definitely a bad boy,” she answered as she lifted her drink to her lips, “and a fuck boy. And I don’t do fuck boys. So, I was never an option.”

He watched her toss the drink back with amusement, “Seems like you’ve got me all figured out then.”

“I’m a good judge of character. You may be a fuck boy, but I like you, Leo.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The fact that you wouldn’t sleep with someone your brother is interested in elevates my opinion of your character.”

“What makes you think he’s still interested in you? You just told me he was furious with you.”

“Oh, he’s still interested,” she told him with a cocky grin, “He just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I think you’re right,” Leo choked on his drink as he nodded toward the door.

Riley turned to find Liam bearing down on them, his expression grim.

Riley slipped her recorder discreetly and quickly into her bag with the arm he couldn’t see as she turned her body to face him and shoved her belongings behind her, “Can I help you, detective?”

“Wow!” Leo marveled at the innocent tone of voice and flutter of eyelashes.

“You!” Liam addressed Leo first, “Please tell me that you did not divulge any confidential information relating to an ongoing case to a civilian…to a reporter no less!”

Leo threw his arms up in surrender, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.”

“Fucking great,” Liam huffed under his breath as he spun on Riley, “And you….you know you can’t print whatever he told you, right? It’s unverified hearsay. He could be making stuff up just to get your pants, you see that, don’t you?”

“First of all, calling him an unidentified source close to the investigation and liberal use of the word alleges covers most of those bases. But more importantly,” She plunked her elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand with a smile, “What makes you think he’s trying to get into my pants and why do you care?”

“Yeah, okay,” Leo tipped the bottle back and finished his beer before setting it down in front of him with a clunk, “I’m just gonna….go….”

Liam never pulled his eyes from Riley, “That’s probably a good idea. Stay away from this case, Leo.”

Leo paused when he was standing directly behind Riley, “The case? Or her?” He grinned at his brother then leaned down to whisper against her ear, “Keep an eye on the bartender tonight. You might get the answer you’re looking for.”

“Hm,” she replied struggling to keep her eyes locked on Liam. If he knew the bartender had any information, he’d question him himself and forbid her from doing it. She’d let him know if the man had anything pertinent to add to the investigation.

Her eyes quickly swept the bar as she turned her head to smile up at Leo, “Thanks for the tip.”

“Thanks for the conversation. We should do it again sometime,” he winked at her before giving his brother a grin, “See you Sunday at dads?”

“Mm,” Liam grunted. The weekly Sunday dinner was a command performance at his father’s estate ever since the advent of his most recent marriage.

“Oh, you have Sunday dinner with your father?” Riley perked up at the personal information, “I think that’s very sweet!”

“You wouldn’t if you ever attended one,” Liam snorted.

“I would love to attend one! Was that an invitation?”

“Absolutely not!”

“I would be delighted to have you come to Sunday dinner as my guest, Riley,” Leo offered.

“Why would you do that?” Liam asked in dismay as Riley and Leo quickly exchanged cell numbers.

“Trust me, bro, I’m doing this for your own good.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re an idiot sometimes,” Leo told him with a wave as he walked away.

Liam watched his brother leave then turned back to Riley in consternation, “Are you seriously coming to my father’s house as my brother’s date?”

“Oh, absolutely!” She answered as she scoured the bar again, “Does that bother you?”

“No!” He lied. “So, what did my brother tell you?”

“No more than he already told you, I’m sure.” She decided to try and deflect his attention, “Hey, remember last time we were here?”

Heat flushed through him as the memory of the night they met flashed through his mind, “Don’t change the subject, Riley.”

“Oh, it’s Riley again? Not Ms. Brooks?”

“I was working. It’s called professionalism.”

“You sure it’s not called sour grapes?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Riley pushed her drink away with a sigh, “Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times you want me to say that. I didn’t sleep with you to get information out of you. I slept with you because I liked you. The rest just kind of happened…”

“Even if I believe you, you can understand why it would be hard for me to trust you again, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” she agreed, “But what if I could tell you who Katie Sloan is having an affair with?”

His head snapped up in interest, “How could you possibly do that?” 

“Riley! Riley!” Max nearly tripped in his haste to make it to the table she was sitting at.

She smirked at him, “I already know.”

“Know what?” Liam demanded.

“Who Katie Sloan is sleeping with, I told you!”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Who? And how do you know?”

“Dean Collins, owner and proprietor of The Beat.” She tipped her head toward the bar.

Liam’s eyes traveled across the room to land on the owner who was currently leaning across the bar, his face inches from the woman on the other side of it, his expression clearly besotted.

Her blonde hair was tucked under the brim of a stylish oversized hat and she hadn’t removed her sunglasses but it was Katie Sloan.

Max shook his head, his cheeks pinkening a little as he pulled the older woman’s chair out, “I think Estelle is a lovely name.”

“It is a lovely name,” Riley chuckled as she sent a quick text. And an old woman’s name told ya!

Max was staring down at his phone as Stella introduced her granddaughter, Miranda, “We call her Mandy for short!”

“Ohhh,” Riley cooed, “Max and Mandy, I like it!”

“That’s-“ Max fumbled his phone onto the tabletop.

“Oh, no…we….we just met!” Mandy objected.

“Give him a chance, dear, he seems like a nice boy!” Stella patted her granddaughter’s hand as she leaned closer and stage whispered, “And he has a good job!”

Mandy’s eyes met Max’s with a long-suffering sigh, she mouthed, “Sorry!”

Max leaned back in his seat as he gave her a reassuring smile.

Once they had given their orders to the waiter, Riley started questioning Stella about what she had seen and heard, “Did you see anyone else with him today or yesterday?”

“Oh yes, dear!” Stella lowered her voice and in a disapproving tone told her, “That man always had a woman coming or going!”

“So, someone else was there today?”

“I can’t be sure about this morning, I left early to help organize the church rummage sale and then I had brunch with a few friends, but there was a young lady there last night.” Stella nodded as if she’d just delivered a great revelation.

“One you’ve seen before?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Not that I can recall. Mr. Hayes wasn’t very social with the neighbors,” Stella sounded deeply offended by this.

“Is this the woman?” Riley pushed her phone across the table to the other woman, open to a recent photo of Katie Sloan.

“No,” Stella shook her head, “That’s not her.”

“Oh! Well, can you describe this other woman?”

Stella launched into every detail she had ever noticed about the woman from her nail polish to her footwear as Riley furiously scribbled notes.

Meanwhile, across the table, Max and Mandy were conspiring in hushed tones on the best way to diffuse the situation with Stella.

“I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice man,” Mandy whispered, “but I’m already in a relationship.”

“You are?” Max yipped in surprise, his eyes flying to Stella before lowering his voice again, “Then why don’t you just tell her-“

“I’m in a relationship with another woman and I just haven’t figured out how to come out to her just yet. She can be a little….judgy….”

Max lifted his eyes again to take in Stella as she finished giving Riley the rundown of the woman’s attire and her opinion on it.

“I can see that,” he smirked, “So shall we just tell her we have a date next weekend then later you can tell her I was a total jerk or that I stood you up or something?”

“Oh, I like the way your mind works!” Mandy laughed.

Both conversations continued until the food arrived.

“…did you tell any of this to the police?” Riley asked as the waiter set a plate of manicotti in front of her.

“Oh dearie, no,” Stella gestured dismissively, “They only asked about the man shouting threats. No one ever asked me about the parade of young women that came and went.”

“Would you be willing to come down to the station and talk to the sketch artist again?”

“Oh, absolutely!” Stella agreed happily as she watched her granddaughter getting along with that delightful boy from the paper. Maybe if that didn’t work out, one of those friendly detectives was single.

Back at the seventh precinct, Leo sauntered into the room like he hadn’t a care in the world, “Hey little, bro. What’s up?”

“Take a seat please,” Liam gestured to the chair across from him then beckoned his partner over, “Flynn and I have a few questions for you.”

The smile on his face never wavered, “Ohhh, sounds serious!”

“It is serious, Leo! Could you please treat it that way?” Liam leaned across the desk and hissed, “I’m trying to help you!”

“What do I need help with?” Leo asked as he dropped into the chair and kicked his feet up on the edge of Liam’s desk.

Flynn knocked Leo’s feet off the desk as he walked by, “Trenton Hayes was found dead in his apartment earlier today.”

Leo locked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, “So?”

Flynn stood with his arms crossed glaring down at the blond man, “So witnesses overheard you telling him you were going to kill him just hours prior.”

“Oh, yeah,” Leo’s blue eyes twinkled with humor as he laughed, “I meant that shit too!”

“Leo!” Liam slammed a fist down on his desk, “You’re not helping yourself here!”

“So, you admit to threatening him?” Flynn pressed.

“I admit to threatening him,” Leo agreed.

“Jesus!” Liam exploded, “How can you be so cavalier about this?”

Leo’s eyes shifted from Flynn’s face to Liam’s, “Because I didn’t actually kill him. I only threatened to! Which you already know. Lying about it would make me look guilty, which I’m not! My DNA will be at the crime scene, but I’ve already admitted to being there, hours earlier! If I were going to kill him, why wouldn’t I have just done it then? If you have the murder weapon, my prints won’t be on it. If he was shot, which is the most common method of murder, the ballistics won’t come back to me.”

“Nice speech. Now back to the questioning,” Flynn checked his notes, “You told him to back off. What did you want him to back off of, exactly?”

“That’s between me and Trent….I mean, it was!”   

“Well, he’s dead now, Leo,” Liam flipped a crime scene photo across the desk, “So you can see how that makes you our prime suspect…”

Leo shrugged expansively, “Yeah, Li, I know how it works. I was a cop, remember?”

“A corrupt cop, Rys,” Flynn gritted, “doesn’t exactly help your case.”

The smile faltered for the first time as Leo sprang to his feet and jabbed a finger at his brother’s partner, “Fuck you, O’Malley! You have no fucking idea what it’s like to be undercover in vice for two fucking years! I did what I had to do to survive!”

Flynn shoved him, “Your actions lead to a good cop getting killed!”

Liam bolted around the desk getting between them before things could escalate any further.

Leo tried to surge around his brother as he yelled, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about dickweed!”

Flynn scoffed, “I know the two big rules are don’t use the drugs and don’t sleep with the target and you did both!”

“She wasn’t the target!”

“No, she was the target’s wife! You think that’s better?”

“Heather had nothing to do with-“

Bertrand’s voice boomed across the room, “What the hell is going on in here?”

“Nothing!” Liam shoved Leo away from Flynn and lowered his voice, “Stop!”

Leo threw both hands up in the air as he took a step backward, “I’m cool, talk to your fucking partner, he started that shit!”

Bertrand barreled down on them, the mayor right behind him, her white-blonde hair swept into an elaborate updo, a jade green dress hugging her curves, and her Louboutin heels echoing like gunshots as she easily matched his stride.  

Leo’s face broke out in a wide-open grin when he saw her, “Hey there, Mads!”

Madeleine Amaranth colored from the top of her head to the tips of her toes at the all too familiar voice that both grated on her nerves and still, infuriatingly, sent shivers of desire down her spine.

She managed to control her face as she clipped frostily, “Leo.”

“That’s it? Leo?” He spread his arms wide, “No hug for your favorite ex-fiancée?”

“You’re not my favorite anything, Leo. Not anymore. You gave that right up when you went rogue.”

“Yeah, right, I remember. Your public image and political career over my little squabble with the CCPD concerning their false allegations and my wrongful termination.”

Madeleine shook her head, “I don’t have time for this. Bert, can we discuss the case in your office?”

“Certainly, right this way,” He glared back over his shoulder as they left, “I want an update in ten minutes!”

“Hey Flynn,” Liam gave him a pointed look, “Why don’t you go check with forensics and see if they’ve made any progress?”

Flynn’s gaze darted to Leo then back to Liam before nodding his head, “All right.”

Leo watched Flynn walk away, “Sorry, Li. I just don’t like that guy. He’s a dick.”

“He’s a good detective, Leo and he’s just doing his job. I had to beg to stay on this case. Everyone thinks you did it. I know you’re not a killer though so please help me prove it! I’m trying to help you, Leo! Give me something!”

Leo slumped in his chair with a resigned sigh, “What do you want to know?”

“What were you arguing with Trent about this morning? Were you fighting over Katie?”

“Not exactly…”

“Are you sleeping with her again?”

“What? No! Listen,” Leo ran his hand through his hair with a sigh, “She isn’t sleeping with me, and she wasn’t sleeping with Trent. He was blackmailing her…that’s what I was threatening him about! I wasn’t actually going to kill him; I just wanted him to back off!”

“What was he blackmailing her with and how did you find out about it? And why insert yourself in the middle of it in the first place?”

“I found out because she told me.”

“Katie told you she was being blackmailed?” 

“Yeah, she came to me for help, and I wanted to help her out. You know, for old time's sake.”

Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “Why do you always let your dick get you in trouble, huh?”

“Hey!” Leo protested, “Katie and I are friends now!”

“Friends, right. What was he blackmailing her with?”

“Okay, so she was cheating on her husband…just not with me. Trent somehow found out about it and was using it to blackmail her. She paid him at first, but he kept demanding more and more. She was worried it was never going to stop.”

“So she came to you.”

“So she came to me.”

“She came to you because she knew you’d do anything for her,” Liam shook his head as he tried to control the inner turmoil seething inside him.

His half-brother came across as a self-entitled prick most of the time. It was a misconception that he actively fostered for some reason. The Rys money conveyed privilege and opened doors, but the Rys name, which had once commanded respect, had become synonymous with corruption, entitlement, and misconduct thanks to their father’s thirty-four-year stint as the most corrupt Sherriff in Lantano County history. For some reason, Leo tended to lean into that image.

Liam knew that his brother was actually soft-hearted, generous, and loyal to a fault. If he cared about someone, he would go to any lengths to protect them, and Katie Sloan had used that to her advantage.

“Listen, Li. I know you never liked Katie, but she’s not a killer! She didn’t do this anymore than I did!”

They were interrupted by Flynn’s return. He dropped a file in front of Liam as he perched on the edge of his desk, “Money transfers, big ones, into his account from one Katie Sloan.”

Liam picked up the manilla folder and flipped it open as he asked, “How many?”

“Four of them over the last few months.”

“That tracks with what Leo just told me about Trent blackmailing Katie.”

“Yeah?” Flynn raised an eyebrow, “Over?”

“She wasn’t cheating with him,” Liam said, “but she was cheating with someone, and Trent knew it.”

“Who was she cheating with?” Flynn asked.

“I don’t know,” Leo answered, “She never said, and I never asked.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed. He was lying. Turning his attention back to his partner he asked, “Did you find out who Maxwell Beaumont is doing work for other than The Ledger?”

“Looks like he has cashed a couple of checks from Walker and Sons Investigations,” Flynn answered.

Turning back to Leo, Liam said, “We can pull Drake or Jackson in for questioning, or you could just tell us who she’s sleeping with.”

Leo shrugged, “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A lab-coated man with warm terra-cotta skin, black hair, and deep oak eyes approached the trio, “I was told I needed to test a suspect for gunshot residue, and I have the ballistics report.” He handed a sheaf of papers to Flynn and turned toward Leo, “Wait…you’re the suspect?”

“Hey Rashad, what’s up?” Leo grinned as he extended his hands, “Yep. These idiots think I killed somebody.”

“The test will help exonerate you, Leo,” Liam said tersely.

“Right,” Leo’s eyes went to Flynn, “Because O’Malley is so interested in proving my innocence.”

“I’m interested in the truth,” Flynn told him as he passed the test results to Liam.

Leo scoffed, “You and I both know that if I did it, I’d have had ample time to wash my hands.”

“True,” Flynn agreed, “But I wouldn’t be much of a detective if I didn’t test my prime suspect for gunshot residue, now would I?”

Leo ignored him, focusing instead on the man carefully swabbing his hands, “How did you end up at the seventh precinct?”

“Transferred last year,” Rashad answered as he added the swab, and several drops of diphenylamine to a test tube.

“To be closer to your mom?” Leo guessed.

Rashad nodded as he held the test tube up to watch for any color change.

Leo’s attention moved back to Liam, “So what does the ballistic report say?”

“Nothing we didn’t already suspect. Nine millimeter matches the gun found at the scene. Registered to the vic.”

“The idiot was killed with his own gun?” Leo snorted.

“Yes,” Flynn replied, “And the gun was wiped clean so we couldn’t lift any prints. Something a former cop would know to do.”

Leo rolled his eyes, “Something any idiot who ever watched one episode of any crime show ever would know to do.”

“No gunshot residue,” Rashad announced, “Do you need me for anything else?”

“No, you can go. Thanks,” Flynn waved him off.

“Told you,” Leo smirked.

“Doesn’t prove you didn’t kill him, Rys.”

“Sure doesn’t prove I did!”

Bertrand’s voice cut through the argument, “Rys! O’Malley! I need that update now!”

“Coming, sir!” Flynn yelled across the room. Jerking his head toward Leo he asked, “What about him?”

“We have to cut him loose, Flynn, we have no real evidence and I’m vouching for him. He’s not going to leave town,” cutting his eyes to his brother he demanded, “Are you?”

“Nope,” Leo used his index finger to draw an x over his heart, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Fine,” Flynn grunted, “But see to it you don’t.”

Leo took to his feet and stretched, “Well boys, it’s been fun but-“

“Sorry to interrupt-“

All three men turned to find Riley striding toward the desk.

Liam was visibly startled, “Riley! What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to let you know that Mrs. Haltom saw a woman with Trent last night and it wasn’t…” she trailed off as her eyes landed on Leo, “the suspect we discussed earlier.”

A smile crept across Leo’s face, “Wow, the homicide detectives are much better looking at the seventh precinct!”

“Not a homicide detective,” Riley extended her hand, “Riley Brooks, investigative journalist.”

“You’re a reporter?” Leo’s grin broadened as he took her hand.

Liam audibly groaned, “No, do not make friends with her!”

Leo’s eyes tracked back and forth between Liam and Riley in amusement, “My brother talks to reporters now?”

“I do not talk to reporters!”

“You’re the brother?”

“You’ve heard of me?” Leo sounded pleased.

“A little. And don’t let him lie,” she leaned in and lowered her voice, “He talks to me.”

“I’ll bet he does.”

Riley shifted her attention back to Liam, “Any updates about the case?”

“If there were, I couldn’t tell you and you know that.”

“I, on the other hand, am free to discuss whatever the fuck I want. One of the benefits of being a civilian.” Leo interjected.

Riley’s head snapped back to him with renewed interest, “You have details about the case?”

“Leo!” Liam warned.

Bertrand’s office door opened again, “Flynn! Liam! I said now not next week!”

“Shit!” Liam pointed at Leo then Riley, “I mean it. No discussing the case!”

Riley watched as Liam and Flynn retreated to Bertrand’s office before turning back to Leo, “So…you have information about the case?”

“I do. And I’ll give it to you if you tell me what’s going on with you and my brother.”

“What makes you think anything is going on between me and your brother?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that flustered before.”

“All right. I was on my way to The Beat. It’s a bar where all the cops hang out.”

“I know what it is. Share a cab?”

“No need. My ride is outside circling the block. We couldn’t find a parking spot.”

Inside Bertrand’s office, Flynn answered the mayor’s questions as Liam glanced over his shoulder through the office window. His jaw clenched as he watched Leo drop an arm across Riley's shoulder as he ushered her out of the office.

He still had her number, didn’t he? He’d call her after the meeting was over. To find out what Leo had told her and to ask about the woman the witness had seen. Not because he was worried about his brother flirting with her. Not because Leo had a way of getting every woman he smiled at into bed.

Max heaved a long-suffering sigh, knowing from experience it was fruitless to argue with her when she was hot on the trail of a story. She became focused to the point of being obsessed, stubborn, pigheaded, and bossy.

Not that he didn’t like the bossy part.

She also became excited, exhilarated, and spontaneous. Her eyes sparkled and her enthusiasm was contagious. Despite the abuse and neglect of his precious Estelle, he enjoyed her single-minded determination very much. His adventures with her were worth the risks to his car.

A dark-haired woman looked up from her desk when the bell tinkled as they entered the tiny office. “Welcome to Walker and Son Investigations, how may I help you today?”

Max peered around Riley, “Hey, Savannah!”

“Oh, hi Max!” her face lit up in recognition, “What are you doing here today? Who’s your friend?”

“This is Riley. We’re looking for Drake. Is he in?” Max’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the other three desks in the room, all empty.  

“Yeah, he’s in the back, moving boxes of files into storage,” She lifted her head and raised her voice, “Drake!”

It took a minute but a man appeared from the hallway at the back of the office, “Do you really have to scream like that? You could have just-Oh! Shit, sorry! Didn’t realize we had company!” He wiped his hands quickly on his pants to get rid of the dust and extended one toward Riley, “Drake Walker, PI, at your service! And you are?”

Riley shook his hand as she took in his appearance. He looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, tall, broad-shouldered, definitely worked out, with chestnut hair that hung just below his ears. His eyes were the color of gold-flecked copper as they bore into her, and his touch sent electricity jolting down her arm. She certainly wouldn’t kick him out of her bed.

“Riley Brooks, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

“Sure,” he grinned at her as he motioned to his desk, “Have a seat. So, what do you need?” He asked as he settled into his chair across the desk from her and Max, “Cheating husband? Lost dog? Background check on a new boyfriend?”

“No, nothing like that,” she laughed.

He leaned forward with a smirk, “So you’re single?”

“I am. Why do you ask?”

“I find it hard to believe that a woman with your…” his eyes dipped down her body and back up, “attributes is single.”

She rewarded him with a coy smile, “I could say the same about you.”

“Maybe we could discuss it over dinner sometime?”

The grin on Riley’s face broadened but Max leaned forward, clearing his throat, “Yeah, she’s too focused on her career for serious dating. Could we get back to the subject?”

Drake barely glanced at Max before asking Riley, “What’s the subject?”

“What do you know about Katie Sloan?”

Drake turned his head to give Max a suspicious look before returning his gaze to Riley, “Who’s that?”

“The wife of Sloane Enterprises CEO, William Sloan.”

Shooting an accusing glare at Max, Drake snapped, “What makes you think I would know anything about her?”

“Because you had me follow her!” Max blurted out.

This time the look Drake gave him was murderous, “Have you ever heard of client confidentiality Beaumont? What the fuck?”

“I….” Max’s shifted nervously in his seat, “Not really…”

“Well, if I did pay you to follow someone, then you’re bound by the same standards I am with regard to client privacy!”

“No one told me that!” Max gulped.

“Savannah!” Drake bellowed at his sister.

“What? I was rushed that day; I didn’t get a chance to cover everything. I sent him home with some paperwork.”

Drake heaved a long-suffering sigh as he muttered under his breath about being surrounded by incompetence before snapping at Max, “Did you read it?”

“No…” Max admitted, “It seemed pretty boring.”

Drake shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling as if asking God himself for guidance. After several deep breaths, he returned his attention to Riley, “Why are you asking questions about Katie Sloan?”

“Because Max photographed her with Trenton Hayes.”

“So?”

“So he’s dead. Someone just shot him.”

Drake froze for a moment, his face expressionless as he gazed at her. “That’s unfortunate for him, but I don’t know anything about it. What did you say you do for a living? You’re not a cop.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know. Now who are you really and why are asking so many questions about a homicide?”

“I’m an investigative journalist.”

“You’re a reporter?”

“Investigative journalist and true crime author.” She corrected him.

“Anything I’ve read?”

“I don’t know. Do you read true crime?”

“Not really.”

“Then I’m guessing not.”

“Well, Miss Brooks, sorry I couldn’t help you, but even if I theoretically hired Beaumont here to follow this Katie Sloan, I couldn’t tell you.” Drake pushed away from the desk and stood up.

Riley stood, but made no move to leave, “If you theoretically did hire him for that, what might be a theoretical reason?”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

“What’s the harm in playing a game of theoreticals?”

“Nice try but I wouldn’t stay in business very long if I went around-“

“I’ll go to dinner with you!”

Drake froze again, “What?”

Max also froze, “What?”

Ignoring Max, she took a step closer to Drake, reaching out and adjusting the collar of his shirt, “I said, if you’ll indulge me in a game of theoreticals for a moment, I’ll go to dinner with you.”

“I….” Drake stood unmoving with his arms crossed over his chest as he fought an internal battle. He already knew what his father would say. And Savannah would probably rat him out if he did it.

Still. The girl was hot.

Max shook his head, “No, Riley, you don’t have to-“

“Shut the fuck up, Beaumont!” Drake finally moved as one hand shot out to strike Max in the chest. Eyes locked on the brunette bombshell in front of him, he licked his lips and then agreed, “Okay, but everything I say is just theoretical, right?”

 “Of course!” Riley fluttered her eyelashes for added effect then asked, “If you were theoretically following Katie Sloan, what would be the theoretical reason?”

“I can’t speculate on something like that, but I can tell you that the most common reason anyone hires a private detective is to catch a cheating spouse.”

“So, William Sloan thinks his wife is cheating on him?”

Drake shrugged, “Theoretically if he hired a PI, that might be why.”

Riley’s eyes widened, her head swiveling between Drake and Max, “Was she cheating with Trent? Because that would be motive!”

Drake held his arms up in front of him, “Whoa now! Don’t be jumping to conclusions! We have no proof of any cheating! And I’ll tell you this because it’s a matter of public record, but if you say the information came from me, I’ll deny it….” He leaned forward and lowered his voice even though they were the only ones in the office, other than his sister who sat watching the whole exchange with amused disbelief, “Trent Hayes and Katie Sloan used to be engaged.”

Riley’s eyes widened, “Oohhh, an ex-fiancée! That’s interesting! Why’d they break up?”

“You’re an investigative journalist, look it up. Shouldn’t be hard to find. She was a fucking heiress before she married the rich guy.”

“Right. So, society pages. Max-“

“Already on it!” He told her as his fingers flew over the keyboard of his smartphone, “Katie Vanderhilt, college graduation…..engagement announcement….inherits grandmother’s fortune….second engagement announcement….wedding to William Sloan….ah, here we go….the gossip page! Hmmm…..just an article saying she suddenly dumped Trent and went on a cruise….no reason given….speculation was that once she inherited all that money, she knew she could catch a bigger fish. Sorry, dead end.”

Riley turned her attention back to Drake, “Is there anything else that I should theoretically know?”

“Can’t think of anything,” he gave her a scorching look, “but if I come up with anything else, we can discuss it over dinner.”

“Absolutely!”

“Tonight at seven?”

“Sorry, can’t tonight.”

“Hey, we had a deal!”

“Yes, and I fully intend to live up to it, just not tonight. Here,” she handed him her card, “call me later and we’ll get it set up! Come on, Max, let’s go!”

“But-“ by the time he glanced up from the card, Riley and Max were already out the front door.

“Dad is going to eviscerate you,” Savannah told him gleefully.

“You could just not tell him…”

“In exchange for what?”

Drake’s head fell back with a sigh, “I’m not letting you drive my car, Sav!”

“Just for one night! It’s my high school reunion! Besides, if I tell Dad what you just did-“

“Fine! One night! But I swear to God, Sav if there’s one scratch on it when I get her back-“

“Oh, cool your jets, I know how to drive,” she turned her head to the plate glass window, “Your new girlfriend just talked her way out of a parking ticket.” 

“Did she now?”

“She did. And she’s parked in a tow-away zone too! You’re going to have to be careful with that one. I’m not sure you can handle her.”

“Shut up, Sav.”

Outside on the pavement, Riley climbed back into the driver’s seat of Max’s Tahoe, “See? I told you it wouldn’t get towed!”

Max shook his head ruefully, “Yeah, well, if that had been me talking to that cop, I would have gotten a ticket and gotten towed! I got to hand it to you….you always seem to get your way.”

“It’s a gift!” She laughed as she threw the car in gear and pulled out into traffic.

“Are you really going to go to dinner with Drake?”

“What?” She glanced at him and then back at the road, “Yeah, why not?”

“I don’t know….he doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Trust me, he’s my type! Besides, a deal is a deal!”

 “I guess,” Max thunked back against the seat with a heavy sigh, “Where are we going now?”

“Seventh precinct!”

“Why?”

“Because we have to tell Liam that William Sloan has a motive for murder!”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I mean….if we happen to stumble across some more information about the case while we’re there then so be it!”

“That’s more like it!” He grinned, his good mood returning at the promise of further adventure.

Built in the early 1900s, the seventh precinct stationhouse took up most of the city block that it sat on. Three stories above ground and two below, the many renovations it had endured over the years made it a labyrinth of hallways, stairwells, and a sometimes confusing mix of old architecture and new. The homicide division was located in a warren of offices on the second floor.

“I need to speak to Detective Rys, I have some information regarding a murder,” Riley told the desk sergeant as they entered the building.

“Second floor,” The officer waved his hand in the general direction of the one lone elevator.

“Thanks!” Riley chirped as she grabbed Max’s hand and drug him away from the elevator and toward the stairwell. Lowering her voice, she told him, “I don’t trust that thing! It creaks, groans, and shakes like it’s hanging on by a thread!”

“Yeah,” Max agreed with a backward glance at it as he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs, “It probably hasn’t been inspected or maintained in a hundred years!”

“That would be a violation of the fire code,” Riley quipped, “How ironic since the 112 is right across the street!”

“Yeah, well…”

They exited the top of the stairs, made their way down a long hallway, took a right about two-thirds of the way down, and found themselves in a large, open area filled with desks, filing cabinets, and a few scattered couches. The wall to their left was covered from left to right in giant casement windows. Directly across from them were doors to private offices and to their right a myriad of doorways and hallways lead off to places unknown. A water cooler gurgled in the corner.

“Can I help you?” A tall, pretty redhead asked them.

Riley adopted her best professional stance, radiating that she had every right to be there as she replied, “Yes, I’m looking for Detective Rys. Have you seen him?”

“He’s around here somewhere, that’s his desk,” she pointed to one close to the windows, “I’m sure he’ll be with you in a moment. I’m Lilith,” she offered her hand.

Riley took it, “Nice to meet you, Lilith! I’m Riley. Are you a homicide detective?”

“No, just a sketch artist,” she smiled.

“Oh? Are you working on the Hayes case?”

“Miss Nevrakis!” a voice called across the room.

“Oh, that’s me, gotta go!” Lilith gave her an apologetic smile as she scurried over to a desk near the water cooler to talk to the man who had called her name and a nervous-looking woman standing next to him.

“Hey! That’s Liam’s boss!” Riley squeezed Max’s arm, “Aren’t you two related? Go see if you can get any information out of him!”

“I don’t think so, Riley. He doesn’t really like me….”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, something about our family’s money being tainted and me taking it.”

“He doesn’t take any? No trust fund? Nothing?”

“Nope. Can’t you tell?”

She cocked her head to one side taking in the off-the-rack suit and shoes that had probably come from Mervyn’s or Sears. Bertrand Beaumont looked like every other police detective in the department. Eschewing the Beaumont money, he had risen to head of homicide on his own merits. A good twenty years older than Maxwell, he viewed his young cousin as irresponsible, frivolous, and entitled.

“Okay, fine. But that’s a little judgy. Not taking the money won’t wind back time and fix what your great-grandfather did.”

“That’s what I said!” People fell into two broad categories when they found out he was a Beaumont. They either judged him on his family’s history of having built its fortune from organized crime, or they wanted to use him for his money and family connections. Riley fell into neither of those categories. It was just another reason that he liked her.

“What are you two doing here?” Liam’s voice was so close behind her that she jumped.

Whirling to face him, Riley answered, “Looking for you!”

“I already told you that I’m not giving out confidential case information, Riley.”

“Well, then it’s lucky for you that I’m here to help you!”

“You’re here to help me?” Liam scoffed, “How?”

“I know someone that might have a motive for killing Trenton Hayes.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “How the hell did you already find out the name of the vic? We haven’t issued any-“

“Detective Rys!” Bertrand’s voice boomed out as he strode across the room, clearly seething.

Confusion spilled across Liam’s features, “Yes sir?”