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I turn back to Matheson. “Did you want to speak to me about something?”
“Actually, yes. We have some questions about your involvement with Charles MacNiall and Tasker, the man suspected of breaking into Mr. MacNiall’s home. Could you sit down with us for an interview?”
“Now?”
“If possible, yes. We have some information that we feel you need to know that’s of paramount importance. We believe your safety may be at risk.”
“From Tasker?”
“No,” Matheson replies slowly. “From Mr. MacNiall.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Dr. Wentworth retorts as she joins me. “There’s nothing you could say that would convince me that Mac is a threat to anyone, but especially her.”
“Please, we need to talk to you. We’ll drive you home, and after we’re done, we’ll bring you back here if you’d like so you can check on your dog.”
I shoot an imploring look at Deputy Daniels, hoping he can get me out of it, or at least come with me. At least I know him, better than I know these two clowns, and Sheba tolerates him.
He holds his hat in his hands, aimlessly shifting the brim around in a circle. He looks at Rusk and then drops his gaze to the floor without saying anything.
Yeah, I get it. He doesn’t have any pull with the FBI.
“Okay,” I reply.
Rusk flashes a grin and starts to reach for my arm, but I flinch away, avoiding his touch. His jaw tightens, and I can almost see his hackles rising up. He’s a man who won’t take any little sting to his ego well at all.
“Sorry, instinct.” I give him a faint smile, using his own words against him. “I don’t like to be touched by strangers. Especially men. With guns. Who shot my dog.”
“You can ride with me.” Matheson takes a step toward her partner and gestures toward the door. As I walk past her, I realize she put her body between me and her partner. That makes me trust her a little more. If nothing else, she’s at least sympathetic to my vulnerable position.
“I’ll leave my car here, then,” Rusk says, striding after us. “Wouldn’t want to violate procedure, right, Jill?”
It takes all my focus not to keep casting worried glances over my shoulder to make sure he isn’t too close.
Hesitating at the driver’s door to her beige sedan, Matheson gives him a silent, unreadable look and then walks around the car to the rear passenger door. “You’re driving then,Nick.”
“Good,” he drawls out, flashing another smug look at me. “I can’t stand women drivers. No offense.”
I dive for the rear passenger door before he can suggest I ride up front with him. Buckled in, I sit silently, soaking in everything I can. Every little movement. The way Rusk adjusts his rearview mirror so he can see me. I swear he keeps trying to catch my gaze with his in the mirror, but I’m an expert at hiding my eyes. Just ask Charlie how long it took him to get a direct look from me. I guard my eyes as religiously as any bank would lock its vault. My eyes are my truth, my soul, the part of me I can’t hide, not if you know what you’re looking for.
Uncomfortable silence fills the car. I keep my hands loosely clasped in my lap and wait for one of them to break it. I’m not going to allow my nerves to get the best of me. The less I talk, the better. The less chance I’ll accidentally betray Charlie.
“Have you known Mr. MacNiall long?” Matheson finally asks.
I can’t help the twitch of my lips. So many people have asked me that question. “About a year.”
“When did you become involved with him?”
“The night before Christmas Eve.”
“When did you discover he’s a killer?”
I almost make the mistake of looking at Rusk in the mirror. Almost. I tighten my fingers together in my lap and wait until I control my voice. “What do you mean?”
“What he means—” Matheson glares at the back of his head, “—is that we suspect that Mr. MacNiall has a criminal past.” She pauses a few moments, watching me, and I realize my mistake. I didn’t act shocked or horrified by that allegation. “We haven’t found Tasker’s body. Yet.” She leans closer to me, trying to win my confidence. “Did Tasker hurt you? Is that why MacNiall went after him?”
“I don’t know. I mean, no, Tasker didn’t hurt me. But the way he looked at me…” I flicker my gaze up to hers, letting her see the truth in my eyes. “He was going to hurt me. Bad.”
“It’s not too late to help MacNiall.” She risks a light touch on my arm. “Help us help him. If he feared for your safety, then there’s a lot we can do to help him. If you care for him, help us.”
