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“Yes,” she said, reading her brother’s reaction.
His attention leaped to her. “He told you?”
“My father wasn’t in any relationship,” her father said.
“No one said nothing about a relationship,” Niall said. “Anyone he’s fucking is a suspect.”
“The police eliminated her from suspicion,” Lachlan murmured.
“I can’t believe this!”
Her father’s surprise was as potent as hers, but she held the latter back.
“If the police are done with her, no reason we can’t ask a few questions,” Daly said, eyes locked on Niall. “There’s no interfering with a whatever if they’ve cut her loose.”
They’d cut Connel loose too. Somehow, she doubted that was the last time he’d be hauled in by the cops.
“She might prefer to talk to a woman,” she said, hoping Lachlan would let more slip. “I can talk to her if—”
“No, I’ll do it,” Lachlan said. “She knows me.”
“Might make her more comfortable,” Strat said and sucked in a breath. “Next on the list is debts.”
Daly was on the ball. “Everyone has those.”
“My father’s credit is exemplary,” her father insisted.
“Not all debts are financial,” Niall said. “Wanna see Ire’s ledger?”
“Yeah, actually,” Lachlan said, his brows rising. “I’ll look at anything you show me.”
And that flash drive came to mind. Shit. What had Strat done with it?
“No one is poking around in each other’s business here. We’re not investigating each other.”
Though, she’d asked Connel to investigate her father’s people. Having them watching set her uneasy. They weren’t active participants or invested. Why did they have to bear audience to this clandestine meeting?
“And if we think someone here might be involved?” Imogen asked. “What do we do then?”
TWENTY-ONE
SILENCE.
Her eyes narrowed on Strat, but he offered the slightest head shake. He hadn’t exactly had time to clue his daughter in on what they knew about the superintendent.
“Bring it to me,” she said when no one else spoke. “Does anyone here suspect me?” No response. “Can everyone agree I wasn’t the shooter?”
“Aye,” Niall said first, to her surprise.
Or she would’ve been surprised, except his boss and oldest friend was her alibi.
“You don’t have an investigative mind,” her father said.
“Funny, ‘cause that’s only what I do all day,” she said, trying her best not to let her anger out. Snark didn’t count; that was too small to pull back. “But I didn’t mean I’d solve the mystery all on my lonesome. I meant if anyone has worries, concerns, suspicions, bring them to me, I can help expand or eliminate them.”
Her father wouldn’t come to her in a million years. In a billion years. Under normal circumstances, he might go to Lachlan, but they couldn’t forget her dad’s hands were dirty in this. That was one thing they already knew for sure.
Taking Connel’s arm, she rested his hand on her thigh, so his fingertips relaxed at the hem of her skirt. Something about the skin-to-skin contact comforted her, and that was as much as she could get in that minute.
