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“He is?” asked Fiona. The numbness from the shock of being taken into custody was wearing off. This could get ugly if he couldn’t get her out of here. The people from the press had begun to smell blood in the water and were homing in like hungry sharks. Time to move.
“I’m trying to do this with as little fanfare as possible. Now, please, Ms. Fowler, if you’ll come with me.”
Fiona hesitated. “I don’t want to go with you.”
Slade sighed. “Your choice. In that case, Fiona Fowler, I’m placing you under arrest on suspicion of aggravated murder.”
“Aggravated? Murder?” squeaked Fiona, her confidence and courage seeming to flag.
Slade felt like a bastard. He didn’t want to hurt her. His first impulse was to protect her, but he couldn’t do that and investigate Daniel’s murder. If Fiona wasn’t the killer, it was a safe bet she knew something about the murder. He reached under his well-made and tailored suit jacket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Christie put her hand on the cuffs. “That won’t be necessary. Fiona will go with you.”
“And I’m the one who makes those decisions, Ms. Crofton, not you,” he said placing Fiona in handcuffs.
Christie gave him a stink-eye, but otherwise ignored him. “Fi, I’ll be right behind you, and remember, keep your mouth shut. You can confirm your name, address, and phone number, but that’s it. And the minute they sit you down, you affirm your right to legal counsel. Got it? Everything will be fine.”
“Yes. I understand. I’m ready to go with you, Detective Rafferty.”
The fear in her voice was almost his undoing, but he reminded himself that someone as cold-blooded as whoever it was that killed Daniel was most likely a smooth and calculated manipulator.
Slade led her to his SUV and helped her into the backseat, where there were no handles or way to unlock the vehicle. He stepped around the vehicle and slipped into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and was able to pull away from the curb before the press managed to get out the door.
He called the police department. The chief picked up. “Jimmy? It’s Slade. I’ve taken Fiona Fowler into custody on suspicion for Daniel Monkton’s murder.”
The chief laughed. “That’s a good one, Slade.” There was a pause as the chief realized Slade wasn’t joking. “You’re serious?”
“I am. I’m a little worried the press is going to be looking for a story. Is there a back way into the station?”
“Yeah. Coming from Fiona’s bookstore, drive past the station and turn at the corner and then into the alley behind us. We’ll block both ends. You can drive down into our secure parking below the building. We’ll be there to make sure you get in without any fuss; but Slade, I have to tell you, I find it hard to believe Fiona would be involved even remotely in what happened to your friend.”
“Maybe; maybe not. Do me a favor and download a copy of her latest book… what’s it called, Ms. Fowler?”
“Shifted Silence.Damn. I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Don’t worry about it. It would have been easy enough to find out. Jimmy, downloadShifted Silence. I want to make sure we have it before anyone thinks to pull it down.”
“Will do, but Slade, Fiona had nothing to do with this. I’d stake my reputation on that.”
“I don’t think ‘stake’ is a word I’d want to use at the moment.”
He hung up and completed the short drive to the station. Slade was grateful they weren’t in Portland or Bangor, as the local and national press would have found a way to turn this whole thing into a circus. He parked and Jimmy opened the back door to help Fiona out. If all the local cops, including Went, were as keen on Fiona and her innocence, this was going to be a lot more difficult than he’d first imagined.
Jimmy pulled out his handcuff key and unlocked Fiona’s cuffs, tossing them to Slade. “I don’t think these will be necessary, will they, Fiona?”
She rubbed her wrists. “No. Thanks, Jimmy.”
Jimmy cupped her elbow, running his hand along the underside of her forearm, guiding her into the station and into one of the interrogation rooms. This was going to be a whole lot more awkward than he’d thought, but he would have to trust Jimmy and his men to remember they were cops and to act professionally.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee or something else to drink? Water? Soda?” offered Jimmy solicitously.
Damn.Jimmy knew better. One of the ways to begin an interrogation and get the suspect to relax was to offer them something to make them more comfortable, which meant Slade should have done it. If anyone needed to develop a rapport with Fiona, it was Slade.
“A bottle of water would be nice, Jimmy. Thank you.”
Slade walked to the opposite side of the table, pulled out the chair, turned it around, and sat down, straddling it. “I’d like a cup of coffee, Jimmy. You don’t need to keep thanking him, Fiona. He’s just doing his job.”
“We do things a little differently here in Angel’s Rise, Rafferty…”
