Presumed Guilty. Dana R. LynnЧитать онлайн книгу.
she asked that out loud? Apparently she had.
She was even more surprised when Jace patted her shoulder. The gesture was a little awkward, but she was touched by his attempt at compassion.
Jace cleared his throat. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
An hour later, she listened silently to Jace and his superior, who had arrived twenty minutes earlier. Her eyes followed Jace as he paced back and forth across the length of the living room. His eyes were hooded. His mouth was tightened into a grim line. He kept removing his hat and raking his hand across his hair in what seemed to be a habitual gesture when he was agitated. She could vaguely recall him making the same gesture four years ago.
“Something’s off.”
Melanie jumped. Jace stomped to a halt before her and glared at the people watching him.
“Well, don’t blame me,” Chief Kennedy drawled. “I’m one of the good guys.”
“Ha ha.” Jace resumed pacing. “I mean whoever this dude is, he’s not acting right.”
“What part of bad guy do you need me to explain, Lieutenant?”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Melanie found herself muffling a giggle at the Chief’s wry remark. Unfortunately, Jace apparently had really good hearing. He leveled a flat stare her way. She straightened in her chair, then gave him a serious nod, biting her lip to keep herself from laughing again.
“You know what I mean. He’s a perp. Means he should have a pattern. But this guy is breaking pattern. Melanie should be dead.”
The room swayed. Mel felt the blood draining from her face. Hearing her fate stated with such devastating coolness shook her to her soul. Mouth dry, she stared at Jace.
He flashed a look her way. Was that sympathy? Pity?
“Sorry, Melanie. Shouldn’t have been so blunt.”
Chief Kennedy scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Go on. I’d like to hear more.”
Jace hunkered down on the footstool in front of Mel, settling his elbows on his knees and leaning toward her. “Alayna Brown was murdered after going to see your aunt—though there was an attempt to make it look like a simple burglary gone wrong. Your aunt was poisoned. I have to assume it was meant to look like an accident. If we had arrived later...”
“My release time was changed!” Mel burst out, interrupting him. She shot out of her chair and walked around the perimeter of the room. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to ward off a chill. “I wasn’t supposed to be released until noon, but it was moved up. But how did the person who poisoned her not know that? Everyone knew. At least it felt that way this morning.”
“But your release time was changed less than twelve hours before it happened,” Chief Kennedy pointed out. “They may not have known that. Or they might not have been able to change the timing on the poisoning. Sneaking the tainted food into your aunt’s kitchen might have been something that could only be done at a certain time.”
“Whatever the reason for the timing with Mrs. Swanson,” Jace broke in, “they are playing with us now.”
Mel stopped pacing.
Chief Kennedy sat forward, eyes intent.
“This guy didn’t actually try to kill Melanie. He’s trying to scare her. He’s playing.” A stark note entered his voice at this pronouncement.
A thick silence filled the room. Mel patted her inhaler to reassure herself.
Then Chief Kennedy spoke, his voice now full of authority, all hint of joking gone.
“He doesn’t want Miss Swanson dead, he just wants her gone. But why?”
* * *
Jace and Chief Kennedy talked strategy and compared theories for another twenty minutes. Mel felt as if her head were stuffed with wool. The energy seeped from her system as she listened to their clinical conversation. They could have been discussing the latest football game, they were so casual. Only the occasional concerned looks Jace shifted in her direction kept her from screaming in frustration at their callousness. His glances assured her that he wasn’t feeling as nonchalant as he sounded. Or at least she hoped he wasn’t. It was too much.
Bone-weary, she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut.
Within moments she was sound asleep. She awoke to find Jace leaning over her, shaking her shoulder. “Melanie, I have to go out to the car.”
“What?” She sat up confused. How long had she been asleep?
“My car, sleepyhead,” Jace replied, looking amused. “I can’t stay in here overnight. And there is no way I am leaving you here alone.”
“Chief Kennedy? Is he—”
“Paul left five minutes ago. He knows I’m staying.”
“I really want to be independent and tell you to go home, that I’ll be fine and all that nonsense.” Mel looked him straight in the eye. “I can’t, though.”
Unexpectedly, Jace reached out and brushed a hand lightly over her hair. “You gonna be all right in here?”
She nodded. The top of her head tingled where his hand had stroked. She could feel her cheeks and ears growing warm.
“Yeah,” she managed to choke out, “I’ll be okay. Thanks.”
“No problem. Just make sure you make plenty of strong coffee in the morning, and we’ll be fine.” Jace winked, then went to his car. Mel watched him go, then shut up the house. She remembered the dress on the mannequin and shuddered. Someone had to have been in her bedroom. There was no way she could sleep in her old room knowing that. She could have slept in the spare room, but she was reluctant to go farther back in the house. Piling up a couple of small pillows, she lay back down on the couch. She was closer to Jace here. He would protect her if anyone tried to get to her. In her mind, she could hear a voice threatening her. Her mind relived the terror-filled moments before Jace arrived until she fell into an exhausted slumber.
* * *
In the cruiser, Jace was wide-awake. Absently, he gnawed on a piece of cold pizza as he went over the events in his mind. He had never seen anyone as frightened as Melanie had been when she answered the door. He could literally see her fighting not to throw herself into his arms. For a woman as proud as she was, that was saying something. He was also uncomfortably aware of how disappointed he had felt when she withdrew. So much for keeping his distance.
Leaning his head back against the headrest, he closed his eyes and tried to recall the voice of Melanie’s mysterious caller. It had been obviously disguised. But still, there was something about it that was familiar. If only he could remember why. Something in the accent. It wouldn’t come to him. Frustrated, he pounded his fist on the steering wheel. His hand slipped and accidentally bumped the horn. The single honk was embarrassingly loud. Jerking the offending hand back, he stuffed it in his pocket. Couldn’t cause him any trouble there. Sighing, his mind returned to the voice.
He knew that voice.
But from where?
He drifted off into a fitful sleep. Several times during the night, he awakened abruptly. At around three in the morning, he decided to take a look around the perimeter of the house. He unfolded his lanky frame from the car, stretching and yawning, and then wincing as his muscles protested. He pulled a face and rubbed the small of his back. Sleeping in a car was never a pleasant experience. He felt almost as tired as if he hadn’t slept at all. Not to mention the tightness that was still knotting his shoulders. He was going to have a monster of a tension headache if he didn’t take measures soon.
Digging in the glove compartment, he found two pain pills in the first-aid kit and chased them down with yesterday’s cold coffee. Yech. But the only other option was to swallow them dry. Nothing worse than pill paste on your tongue.
He