AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hey there, beautiful,” the man has the fucking balls to say as I stand in front of him.
“Do you recognize this woman?” I open the folder and practically shove the only picture we have of Elizabeth in his face, bile once again threatening to rise out of my throat.
“Can’t say that I do,” he responds, and I know I have him.
He’s lying. An innocent man wouldn’t do that. He’d confess to spending some time with her rather than not admitting he knows her at all.
I close the folder and tuck it back under my arm.
“Should I?”
“I’m Detective Lennox Maison with the Farmington Police Department. Can you turn around please and place your hands behind your back?”
“Not really into being watched during kinky time,” the man says with a smile on his face, but he follows my order and turns around.
I pull my handcuffs from my belt and click them onto his wrists, taking an extra second to calm down as I use my key to lock them in place.
“You should recognize her,” I hiss. “You’re under arrest for her rape and murder.”
Only now does he stiffen, as if he’s so cocky and confident that it isn’t until this exact moment that reality hits him.
“Prez?” he asks, emotion filling his voice as I turn him and direct him back to my car to the left of the cabins at the top of the campground.
“We’re on it, Ugly,” some other guy assures him.
I don’t stick around as I shove him into the backseat, wishing I was back in one of the patrol cars rather than this issued one because there is no barrier between the two of us.
Chapter 4
Ugly
All I can do is stare at the back of her head after she climbs inside the vehicle. I notice the tremble in her hand as she starts the car. She’s stiff, scared, and it’s like a slap in the fucking face. Is she really afraid of me? Is this all some sort of fucking joke?
She doesn’t speak as she makes her way out of the national park, her eyes darting to the rearview mirror as if she’s wondering when I’m going to make some sort of move in an attempt to escape.
Rape?
Murder?
Not a fucking chance.
“Is this because I didn’t call?” She wouldn’t be the first woman to get pissed that I was serious when I said I wouldn’t call the next day. “I didn’t even get your phone number.”
She doesn’t answer. The only thing she does is turn slightly in her seat and read me the Miranda rights.
I slowly blink at her.
“I didn’t even know your name until today,” I say rather than acknowledging what she just said.
Her jaw clenches, and I can see she honestly thinks that’s a lie. There’s a part of her that’s wondering if I sought her out for any other reason, than the way her ass looked in athletic leggings, while she was doing squats at the gym.
My mind races, trying to picture where I might know that woman in the picture she showed me. Was it the woman who sucked me off in the bathroom at Jake’s? I shouldn’t have let her do it after she told me she was married, but getting arrested for rape and murder because someone was unfaithful seems a little fucking harsh. Did her husband kill her? Did he find out about what happened at the bar and take his anger out on her?
Sadness settles inside of me. As many horrible things that I’ve seen, it never gets easier.
I shake my head. The woman in the picture looks nothing like the one who followed me to the bathroom that evening. My mind is trying to work through scenarios and answers when I don’t even know the damn questions.
I don’t say another word during the long drive back to Farmington. I know any questions would go unanswered. I know Kincaid will get to the bottom of this, but I can’t help but wonder what happened to this woman for her to think I’d do something like this.
Is she questioning her time spent with me? Of fucking course she is. If she truly believes I assaulted and killed someone, then she has to regret what we did.
I open my mouth to tell her she’s wrong, but I notice the city limits sign on the edge of town.
Arguing my case while in handcuffs won’t get me anywhere, so I snap my mouth closed, my jaw aching from grinding my damn teeth.
Instead of parking around back where I know for a fact they take arrestees, she parks in front of the police station.
“Really?” I ask when she opens the back door to her police cruiser. “Right through the front door?”
She doesn’t answer or lend a hand. She simply takes a step back and waits for me to climb out of the car.
