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“You don’t think he’s guilty?” Saige queried.

“Oh, he’s guilty. I’m just not sure if he’s guilty of everything that he said he was, or if he just wants us to look after him because he can’t take care of himself and is tired of his mother having that control.”

“Yeah, it’s the whole food and exercise thing that has me worried,” Saige agreed.

“You’re both over thinking it.” Amber pointed out, watching him with concern in her eyes. “I’m going to drive you back to the motel.”

“Alex is picking me up. He should be here by now.”

“Get some sleep, Saige, and I’ll call you when I’m awake. We’ll sort out where to meet up.” He stood and tucked Amber into his side. “Hopefully, later today we’ll know more and have a strong case to get Quinten released and his record wiped.”

“You really think that can happen?” Saige asked, and he didn’t miss the hopeful note in her voice.

Coulter hesitated, but admitted, “I think it’s a strong possibility now. We have a confession, evidence that links Paul to the victims. Once we have the DNA, and the polygraph results, if they link Paul to that shack, we’ll take it from there.”

Saige was silent and bit her lip. “Thank you.”

Walking outside with Saige, he watched as she climbed into Alex’s car, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Alex hadn’t been inside with her. Surely he’d want to know what was going on so that he could appeal for his brother’s quick release. Something to think about when he wasn’t so tired.

“Was that the truth?” Amber asked.

He didn’t need to ask her what she meant, he knew. “Personally, I think that Quinten will be released within the next few days. The governor is up for reelection and there is already a lot of protesting going on at the prison over the death penalty, especially Quinten’s case. So I think the governor will want the Peterson case to disappear quickly. I didn’t want to get her hopes up just in case I’m wrong.”

Amber hugged him close. “You’re a big softy, Detective Coulter Robinson.”

He felt himself blush at her observation as he did what he’d been itching to do from the moment they first met; he ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s so soft,” he mumbled.

“C’mon before you drop...and if you’re good I might let you feel how soft the rest of me is.”

Headache or not, he was certainly up for that.

* * *

4:15pm

* * *

Alex talked Saige into having a pre-dinner drink in town, and he wished he hadn’t bothered.

From the minute they walked into the small bar, the occupants hadn’t taken their eyes from them. Saige sat with her back to them, but not Alex. He needed to keep his eye on them.

Saige watched him gaze around the old bar with its wooden tables in need of a fresh lick of paint, and the chairs worn so thin from years of use that they looked ready to fall apart underneath any poor sucker who sat on one wrong. He’d been coming to this bar since he turned twenty-one and not one thing had changed.

“Have they stopped staring at us yet?” Saige took a drink of her beer and let the bottle dangle in her hand.

“No.” Alex sighed. “Ignore them.”

She chuckled. “You mean like you are?” Raising a brow, she sat forward and asked, “What do you think is going on with my father?”

He raised a brow. “About the evasive answers he keeps giving you about the hospital?”

“Yeah. I remember everything but that now...at least, I think I do.” She shrugged and although she tried to act as though it didn’t bother her, he knew that it did.

“I think once Quinten is free you both need to take a trip to the hospital and ask questions. I’m guessing you’d be able to request to see your medical records from your time there. Maybe ask Daniel if he can get some sort of legal paperwork to give you access just in case the hospital doesn’t cooper

ate.”

“Hmm.” Saige sat back, thoughtful for a few minutes. “That could work.”

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