He salutes, nods to Katie, and runs out of the room.
There are only two remaining interviews to go: Travis Marrs and Hunter Abrahams, who were also at Skallywags the night of the murder. Travis is on a field exercise and is unavailable today. I make a mental note to rearrange Abrahams’s interview once the fire alarms aren’t trying to bust my eardrums.
“Let’s head out,” I say, allowing Katie to moveahead of me. I place my hand on her lower back, feeling the warmth of her through the fabric. She tilts her head to face me, a stern expression on her face, but she says nothing.
I keep my hand on her the entire way to the car.
Chapter Nineteen
Jonesy
Katie dropped me back to the police station so I could grab my car, but instead of heading straight to mine for a cold shower, I decided to go to her place under the guise of helping with the renovations. Really, I was tired of waiting for forgiveness that I knew she wouldn’t give unless I forced her hand.
I pull up to her house just as my phone rings. The army base main line showing up on my screen.
“Jones,” I answer.
“Jones, it’s Tilly. How is the investigation going?”
I’ve been giving him daily updates, but at least now I’ll have something to tell him since we were able to do something today. “It’s going, sir. We conducted five of the seven interviews today. We still need to talk to Travis Marrs and Hunter Abrahams, but Marrs is on a field exercise, and the fire stopped us from completing Abrahams’s interview. They suspect someone was smokingand threw the cigarette into a trash can. Probably a recruit.”
I wipe my hand across my mouth. Isn’t it a little convenient that just as we were conducting these interviews, a fire broke out? Or is the murder mystery I’ve been reading making me see things that aren’t there? I push it out of my mind, focusing on the additional three bodies we now have to contend with.
“The police strongly suspect that Maddox is the culprit, but I still have reservations. It seems too messy for a man who had gotten away with killing three women before that night.”
“The colonel disagrees, Jones.”
I sigh, not much I can do about that, is there?
“Okay, sir. I’ll keep at it.”
“Jones. You’ve got one week. The fire investigation should be wrapped up by then, and the colonel has stated that if you're not up to the task, then you’ll be replaced.”
He hangs up.
Tilly rarely barks orders like that; the colonel must be up his ass so high he’s basically talking for him.
I put my phone away, shaking off the annoyance I feel as I make my way up to Katie’s front door.
She swings the door open, her red hair bundled up on top of her head. She’s washed her makeup off for the day, but she has a smear of what looks like plaster across her forehead.We’ve only been apart for an hour, but it warms my chest that she’s started working on the renovations straight away.
“I’ve come to check on my tiling.”
Her eyebrow raises as she cocks her hip to the side with no signs of letting me through. Time to use the only weapon I know will work with the she-devil:begging.
“Please? If I mess up your tiles, you’ll never let me live it down, and I’m trying to reduce your already overwhelmingly full arsenal of weapons.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. But only because it’s almost getting dull how easy it is to beat you in an argument.”
My boots thud against the unfinished floor, and I don’t bother removing them. If she has plaster on her face, no doubt it’s everywhere else as well. The kitchen comes into view, and holy shit. She’s plastered the entire wall. She’s even got a ladder out to reach the top, and she’s done a fucking good job. I turn to the tiling, each forest-green subway-style tile in perfect position. Rolling up my sleeves, I start to prepare the grout, and Katie shuffles around me, watching intently.
It's then that I see the bag I gave her this morning on the counter. The she-devil is warming up and close to forgiving me; I can tell because the empty Musketeers wrapper is next to it, and the other items are lined up neatly as if she’s inspected each one.
I twist my head to see her reaction, and I’m rewarded with a red flush up her neck matching her fiery hair.
“Thank you for the gifts. They were unnecessary,” she says awkwardly.
“Hopefully they help,” I murmur as I pick up the lavender sleep spray and silk eye mask.
