Negative mumbling circled the group
“Russell and Hamill, I want you to follow up on this lead.”
“Yes, sir,” Kurt muttered.
Martinez cocked his head as he peered directly at Brittany. “So are we taking him off the suspect’s list?”
“Yes, I think—”
“No, not yet,” Kurt interrupted.
She gasped and glared at him. What was he doing? After he had listened in on their conversation last night, why wasn’t he convinced as she was?
“Explain yourself,” Martinez snapped.
“Because Reeder kept in touch with Hillary, and even gave her money to set up her own business—which of course, he didn’t know what it was—he’d mentioned that they argued and she stormed out.”
“Seriously?” Brittany shook her head, not believing Kurt. “That’s why you think he’s still a suspect?”
“Yes.” He met her glare. “Because he had upset her.”
“What does that have anything to do with it?”
“Because,” Kurt spoke slower, “that would give her more room to blackmail Reeder.”
Brittany gnashed her teeth. She wanted to shake some sense into Kurt, regardless of his headache.
“Hamill’s right.” Martinez gave a sharp nod. “Reeder stays on the list.” He moved his attention to the others, beginning to ask them the same question.
Brittany tried to communicate her frustration toward Kurt through her eyes, but he wouldn’t look at her for very long. Finally, she bumped against him with her arm.
“Give it up, Russell,” he whispered. “You know I’m right.”
“Actually, it’s just the opposite.” She kept her voice low, too.
“We’ll talk about this later.”
“Yes, we will.” She folded her arms across her chest and focused on the captain. Too bad she couldn’t hear a word he was saying, because her mind was putting arguments together for when she and Kurt were alone. Once she said her piece, he was going to wish he stayed home.
As soon as the briefing was adjourned, she followed Kurt out. He reached his office, and nearly collapsed on his chair. Resting his elbows on his desk, he laid his head in his hands.
“Kurt, we need to talk,” she said, sitting on the empty chair by his desk.
“Not now we don’t.”
She huffed and glared his way, even though he didn’t care enough to look at her and see it. “I mean it, Hamill.”
“Britt, while I’m trying to recover from my headache,” he muttered into his hands, “why don’t you go to your own desk and start researching Belle’s Escort Service. Didn’t you hear Martinez? We need to interview them.”
She grumbled under her breath and marched to her desk. At this moment, she was so mad at Kurt, she could…could… Well, she wasn’t quite sure what she would do to him, but one thing was for sure—it wouldn’t be pleasant.
How dare he not believe Austin was innocent? Although a few questions still lingered in her mind, for the most part, she didn’t think he could do it. She’d gotten to know him a little better last night, and he was sweet and caring. Good grief, he was going to actually give her money to help her with rent just so she wouldn’t get evicted, and yet, he hadn’t even known her that well. She hadn’t met anyone with a bigger heart.
She glanced up to see Willy Tyrone giving her a leery stare. This was a man that most people didn’t want to mess with. He was nice looking—for a body builder. He never admitted that’s what he did off work hours, but how else would he get is body so buff…unless he took steroids, which she seriously doubted. Two week ago, she’d teased him for shaving his head, but now, she rather liked seeing his bald head every day.
She wished he’d stop looking at her as if she’d done something wrong. Obviously, he was taking Kurt’s side in everything.
As she typed in the name of the escort service into the computer, her hard keystrokes echoed in the office. Yes, she was upset, and she wanted everyone to know it—especially, Kurt. Several listings popped up, and yet none of them were for Seattle, Washington.
