Physical Evidence. Debra WebbЧитать онлайн книгу.
bumped into the table and knocked the telephone off it.” She blinked, her eyes bright.
The shooter had used a sound suppressor, which explained why no one at the hotel seemed to have heard anything. Both items were being tested by ballistics at that very moment.
“How did you get out of town,” he prodded. That was the part that bothered him the most. She’d been barefoot and without transportation. Someone had to have given her a lift.
“The rug guy,” she explained. “He had already taken the mats at the front of the hospital lobby entrance and gone back to his van for clean ones. While he put the new ones in place I hid in the back of his van.” She shrugged. “When he made his next stop I got out. It was a nursing home outside town.”
Pinecrest, but that was still a good five miles from Mitch’s house. “You walked from there?”
She smiled dimly. “Walked, ran, stumbled. I’ve got a few blisters to prove it. Mostly I hid in the woods afraid someone would find me.”
Mitch thought about her scraped knees, then about her hovering in the bushes. “When did you get to my house?”
She chewed her lower lip, thoughtful. “Sometime after dark. The door was unlocked so I went on inside.”
“You didn’t call anyone?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t think. I was exhausted. My head hurt. I just needed to lie down. I fell asleep on the couch and then you came in.”
“And you’ve told me everything you can remember regarding what you discovered during the course of your investigation?” he pressed. He needed her to give him everything, no matter how unimportant it might seem. “You remember nothing as to why you were meeting with Miller?”
“I’m sorry, no. I don’t even remember talking to him at all. Like I said, my agency was hired to look into Marija’s disappearance and the family she was staying with, the Malloys. I still plan to pursue that investigation.”
Mitch tapped the arm of his chair considering her words for a moment. “Even after I told you what the TBI believes, you want to move forward?”
She nodded. “Her sister’s counting on me. I can’t in good conscience walk away without giving it my best shot.” She pursed those lush lips for a time. There was something about her mouth, the shape or color or maybe both, but he wanted to taste her so badly that it was an ache inside him.
“Besides,” she continued, “I’m not sure I can buy into the serial killer scenario considering Marija’s circumstances and the Malloy connection.”
A new kind of dread rising, Mitch asked, “What circumstances?” Marija had fit the serial killer’s profile perfectly. Since she hadn’t been found, that seemed the most likely scenario. Unless she just didn’t want to be found.
“Jasna may not have shared this information with the police since it was so private,” Alex began. “But two days before Marija disappeared she called her sister and admitted that she was pregnant. Jasna felt certain that the father was Mr. Malloy since Marija was so afraid he’d find out. It’s possible he discovered her pregnancy and decided he couldn’t risk the bad publicity considering the upcoming senatorial race. Not to mention his wife’s reaction.”
A chunk of ice formed in Mitch’s gut. Shock radiated through him. “That’s impossible,” he said tightly.
“Why would my client lie?” Alex countered.
“She has to be lying,” Mitch returned, his tone brittle despite his best efforts to keep it even. “Phillip Malloy is one of the finest men I know.” He leveled his gaze on hers. “And I should know, he’s my uncle.”
“So that automatically clears him of possible wrongdoing?” Ashton countered. “I don’t think so.”
Alex shot Ashton a quelling look. Mitch wanted to reach across his desk and wring the guy’s neck. “If you can’t prove that allegation, I would caution you to keep it to yourself.”
“I’m not accusing him—”
“Is that a threat, sheriff?” Ashton cut Alex off, leaning forward in his chair. “Because if it is, you’re making one hell of a big mistake.”
“Zach,” Alex warned, placing a hand on his arm.
Ashton shook off her restraining gesture and stood, glaring down at Mitch. “Make a formal charge, Hayden, or we’re out of here.”
Mitch smiled, the gesture filled with the contempt strumming through him. “If that’s what you want.”
“Zach, this is not the way to handle this.” Alex was standing now, too. She pulled him around to face her. “Let me do my job. Okay? You’re not helping,” she added when he still looked skeptical. “I have to think about what’s best for my client.”
Ashton held up his hands, stop sign fashion. “Fine.” He sent a glower in Mitch’s direction. “He can’t charge you anyway. He doesn’t have enough evidence to make a case and he knows it.”
Mitch leaned back in his chair, cocked his head and stared right back at Ashton. “I guess I forgot to mention the new evidence we discovered last night.”
Alex’s expression fell; Ashton’s grew wary.
“What evidence?” he demanded with a little less conviction.
“A high-powered rifle, complete with sound suppressor, was found in the hotel room Alex used. It was hidden beneath the mattress.”
She shook her head. “That can’t be.”
“It’s a setup.” Zach shook a finger in Mitch’s direction. “And you know it.”
Mitch stood. He pressed his palms against his desktop and leaned forward, his gaze never leaving Ashton’s. “Maybe it is a setup. Alex certainly appears to have no motivation for whatever the hell is going on here. But that’s beside the point. I have every intention of getting to the bottom of this one way or another.” He turned his attention to Alex then. “I will have your full cooperation.”
“Absolutely.” Her gaze never wavered. “It’s in my best interest as well as my client’s.”
Mitch shifted his focus back to Ashton. “And we’ll do things my way.”
Before Ashton could respond, the door to Mitch’s office swung inward. Dixon stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Sheriff, Peg stepped out a minute. And you’ve got an urgent call on line two. It’s Detective Wells from Davidson County.”
Mitch snatched up the receiver as Dixon pulled the door closed behind him. “Hayden.” Dammit. He didn’t need any interruptions right now.
“Hey, Mitch. Wells here. You have an Alex Preston in protective custody in regards to the Miller case?”
“That’s right.” Mitch ignored the rapt attention focused on him from across the desk. What the hell was this about? Alex hadn’t been out of his sight all night.
“We’ve got what looks like a suicide up here. We found a business card for Preston in the woman’s room,” Wells added. “I think maybe you’d better come have a look.” He rattled off the location.
“What’s the victim’s name?” Mitch stiffened when he heard it. “I’ll be there in half an hour.” He dropped the receiver back into its cradle and settled his gaze on Alex’s expectant one. “Your client no longer has an interest in this case, Ms. Preston.”
“What are you saying?” Uncertainty flickered in her amber eyes.
“Jasna Bukovak is dead.”
Chapter Three
Alex sat in Hayden’s Jeep feeling more than a little numb. Jasna was dead. Alex blinked and refocused her attention on the