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Whatever the reason, Nikki felt uncomfortable in the tight confines of the SUV but tried her best not to show it. Obviously Delacroix didn’t trust her, or probably didn’t like her, but that was just too bad.
“So you’re telling me you just happened to be out here on the night Bruno Cravens was killed.”
“I didn’t just happen to be here. I came to interview him.”
“But he didn’t know it. Isn’t that what you said?”
“I said that he never returned any of my calls or texts.”
Delacroix was nodding in the darkness. “So you just walked into his house.”
“The door was open.”
“And you saw the gun, the rifle, but just ignored it.”
“I didn’t want to disturb anything.”
“Because you knew it was a crime scene?”
“No, because it was Bronco’s home, his stuff.”
“And you weren’t invited? He didn’t know you were there?”
“We’ve been over this.”
“Just clarifying,” Delacroix said.
“And badgering.”
There was a tense silence where Nikki held the younger woman’s gaze, or thought she did, who could tell since night had fallen, but Delacroix finally said, “I think that does it. If I have any more questions, I’ll call.” She opened the car door and the interior light snapped on.
“Do that.” Nikki didn’t bother to hide the irritation in her voice.
Delacroix didn’t smile, just said, “Thanks,” as Reed showed up and stuck his head inside. “Done here?”
“Got everything I need, I think,” Delacroix said, and walked off.
“How’re you doing?” he asked, his gaze finding Nikki’s.
“I’ll live.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “I’m kinda counting on that.”
“You?”
“Fine. It’ll be a little while yet. Meet you at home?”
“Sure.” She wanted to ask him a dozen questions that were flitting through her mind, all about the Cravens family and the Beaumonts, but they would have to wait. Reed had his game face on, deep into the investigation.
“Don’t wait up,” he said, and at least offered her a wink that caught her off guard and caused her heart to trip a little.
“I won’t,” she said as she started the ignition, but they both knew she was lying.
CHAPTER 25
“Do you have any new leads?” Nikki asked her husband as he walked through the back door and tossed his keys into the dish on the edge of the counter. She’d been working in the kitchen, waiting for him, reading Ashley Jefferson’s blog about the pitfalls of being the mother of two rambunctious kids.
“And I’m glad to see you, too,” Reed said before brushing his lips across her cheek.
