“Are you all right, Miss Carlysle?” Clinton asked with concern.
“Of course I’m not all right,” she said faintly. “You just told me that the man who assaulted me was murdered.” And then another thought occurred to her. She glanced sharply at both detectives. “You said you want to find out who killed him. Surely you don’t think I’m a suspect. I’m hardly capable of killing a man in my current condition.”
But Ash would be a suspect. He’d made no secret of his rage over what had happened. And worse, Josie couldn’t immediately discount the notion that he could have done it.
“You’re not a suspect, now,” Starks in a bland tone. “But Mr. McIntyre is. Can you tell me if you know of his whereabouts last night between seven and ten P.M.?”
Relief surged, making her light-headed. She gripped the bed rail with her left hand because it felt like she’d pitch right over the side. If that was the time they were asking about then Ash couldn’t have done it because he had been with her.
“He was here with me,” she said firmly. “You can ask any of the nurses who were on duty. He sat with me the entire night and slept on the couch over there.”
Clinton was busy scribbling notes on a pocket notebook while Starks continued to stare at her until she shifted uncomfortably.
“Pretty convenient that the man who attacked you turns up dead wouldn’t you say?”
“What are you getting at, detective?” she snapped. “If you’d done your job and arrested him, he wouldn’t be dead now, would he? I’ve already told you that Ash was with me. If you don’t believe me, there are plenty of other people who can support his alibi.”
Starks nodded slowly. “We’ll be checking, absolutely. But what about Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Crestwell. Did you see either of them last night?”
The blood seeped from her face. “Are you crazy? Why would either of them kill Charles Willis?”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Clinton interjected.
“No,” she said. “I didn’t see them, but I’m sure if you ask them they’ll be able to tell you where they were.”
“Oh, we will,” Starks said grimly.
The door opened and Ash walked in, abruptly halting when he took in the two police officers. Evidently he saw something on her face he didn’t like because his expression became thunderous.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he demanded.
“Mr. McIntyre,” Starks acknowledged with a dip of his head. “We’re questioning Miss Carlysle in the murder of Charles Willis.”
Ash blinked, no expression betraying his thoughts. “He’s dead?”
Clinton nodded.
“Good,” Ash said savagely.
Josie gasped. He wasn’t helping matters any with his declaration. Now they’d be convinced that Ash had something to do with it.
“They think you had something to do with it, Ash!”
Ash arched one brow. “Do they?”
“You don’t seem too torn up over the fact he’s dead,” Starks commented.
Ash turned his furious gaze on the detectives. “Take a good look at her. Now you tell me, if that was your woman that he nearly beat to death, would you be upset that someone killed the bastard?”
Clinton shifted uncomfortably and Starks had the grace to look abashed.
“Not saying what I think,” Starks replied. “What I think doesn’t matter and it doesn’t change the fact that a crime was committed. I have to investigate it as I would any other murder.”
“You do that,” Ash said flatly. “But you leave Josie the fuck alone. You aren’t to so much as look at her unless she has a lawyer present. Are we clear? Furthermore, if you want to speak to her again, you’ll call me and set up an appointment and it won’t be when she’s in pain and about to drop from exhaustion. You’ve upset her and that’s the last thing she needs right now.”