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“So you arrived on scene...” He led her like a witness, because that’s what she was.
Andi had sat beside Christian, and he hadn’t missed his brother resting his hand over hers. Just how friendly were they? Until this was sorted out and Andi found innocent—if she ever was—he had to warn his brother off.
“Right,” Harper said, popping one more strawberry in her mouth from the plate Riley had placed beside her.
His sister always played the generous host, but he needed everyone to focus.
Harper took a sharp inhale, then released it. “It was an awful sight. She’d been stabbed half a dozen times. Poor girl.”
“And what else did you see?”
“She was lying on a pile of rocks, blood on the rocks. The detective’s theory was that the stab thrusts knocked her down on the rocks, she hit her head, and blood spilled out, the wound adding blood to the scene.”
“You hitched when you saidtheory,” Deckard said, her pause indicative of a different opinion.
“I think her assailant...” Harper began, emphasizing the wordassailant, no doubt for his benefit.
He tried not to chuckle. Andi’s friend was a spitfire, and a gorgeous one at that.
“I think he... or let’s just go withassailant,” Harper said.
“You’re not suggesting it could have been a woman?”
“Women, as a rule, don’t stab other women,” Christian said. Occasionally men did, if they were in a heat-of-the-moment fight and a knife was readily available.
“No. I’m just saying Andi believes, based on her evidence, that Mitch Abrams killed Anne Marlowe. Deckard believes he didn’t,” Harper said. “If you’re going to work her case, you both have to set your conclusions aside and just study the evidence, or you’re going to be at constant odds.”
He looked at Andi, and they both indicated their agreement with a quick nod. He’d work the evidence, like he always did. Evidence was black-and-white. He’d base his investigation on the facts, and the dominos would fall where they may. He just prayed they didn’t knock his brother over in the process.
TWENTY-SIX
CYRUS LAYon the sloped ground of the foothills, trying to ignore the rocks prodding him. They sat on the stone patio, all around the fire table. He noted each one by the names they spoke and the way they interacted. He tightened his grip on the long-range microphone and video recorder—the long stick fitting easily in his hand.
Pleasure rippled through him. The chick’s case would distract them, even if they weren’t the ones working it. Now he hoped they’d discuss the heist case. He needed to know how much they knew so he could make an educated decision. If they got any closer to him, they’d have to go, regardless of the trouble it would cause. If they were still working clues that didn’t lead anywhere close, he’d let them live—for now. Hopefully, Teresa listened to him and hadn’t sent another order to undermine him, to prematurely take out Andi and Christian. But he wouldn’t put it past her.
¦¦¦
“Okay, let’s focus,” Deckard said. “You started to say you think the assailant...” He inclined his head toward Harper. Getting firsthand information about the crime scene would be super helpful in understanding the full case.
“Right.” She crossed her legs—long, shapely legs. Shorts and a long-sleeve shirt with Docksiders spoke of Cali or the East Coast, butnot typically New Mexico. He’d have to ask where she came from, but later. Right now, his job was to keep her on track.
He glanced at Christian and Andi whispering to each other, their gazes locked, very in tune with one another.Not good, baby brother.He prayed God would guard his brother’s heart until the truth came to light.
“So,” Harper finally said, “I think the killer was someone she knew. Someone who told her to meet him there for a midnight picnic or some romantic nonsense.”
He smiled.
She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“You don’t hear many women calling a romantic gesture nonsense.”
Harper shrugged. “I’m just a more practical person, I guess.... Anyway, there was a bench at the crime scene and a string of fabric from Anne’s skirt was found on it. I think she waited on the bench. The killer approached from behind, knocked Anne unconscious, threw her on the rocks, and stabbed her there.”
“That’s quite the theory.”
“There was no blood on the grass, only the rocks, and she’d have to nail those rocks with her head amazingly hard to have the deep head wound she had.”
“But the rocks had blood on them by her head, right?” He’d read that in one report or another.
