“Oh, it’s kind of the missing puzzle piece.” Norton crossed his arms. “Want to know what I think happened, Ms. Remington?”
No. Absolutely not. “Sure.” She swallowed back a huge lump in her throat.
“I think you never got over Jay, and when he and Julie invited you to the Picalo Club, you jumped right in.” Norton’s gaze dropped to the ID card. “Then I think you ended up over your head, possibly with film or pictures, and Julie blackmailed you for drug money.”
“That’s crazy,” Zara whispered, prickles tingling down her back.
“You started to run out of money, and you decided to kill Julie. Or there was a knife, and you lost your temper. I’m not sure.” Norton eyed her calmly.
“What about the breakin at her house?” Heath asked.
“What breakin?” Norton smiled then, a quick flash of teeth. “There are no witnesses, and only Ms. Remington was there, apparently. I think she staged it for some reason—possibly to make it look like she’s a victim, too?”
“Then why not report it?” Zara asked. The detective couldn’t really believe all of this, could he?
“Oh, please. Your grandmother coincidentally finds your door open and calls the cops? You as good as did report it.” The detective gathered all of his papers together in a lopsided pile. “Let me help you. Tell me everything, and I’ll go to the DA for you, say you cooperated.”
Zara flushed hot and then cold. “I didn’t kill Julie. I swear.”
“Oh, I’m gonna prove you did.” The detective planted both hands on the table. “Now. Let’s start again. When did you last see Julie Pentley?”
*
Ryker paced the offices after he dropped a snoring Denver into bed. He should be down at the police station, but Heath had told him to stay put until the interview had concluded, and Heath was a hell of a lawyer, even if he didn’t much like the law.
Greg and Grams were upstairs sleeping, but no way could Ryker get shut-eye before Zara came home. Maybe not even then. The base of his neck tickled, and time was running out.
Whoever had intercepted their little trap would be coming, fast and hard.
Would it be Isobel Madison and her soldiers? He hoped so, but God only knew who else was out there looking for her. Or them. What if Cobb had somehow found them?
He bit back a snarl. The sheriff had taken their childhood away. He wasn’t getting close to Zara or her Grams…or to Greg.
Nervous energy rippled through him, and he stalked toward Heath’s office. The furniture had finally arrived. Once entering, he let out a low whistle.
Glass, wood, and chrome. It was a combination of Ryker’s and Denver’s offices with a sprawling black leather chair behind the desk. A wide glass panel had been mounted on one wall with pictures and notes showcasing the Copper Killer murders.
He strode forward and checked out the neat lines. If the killer stayed true to form, he’d take another victim within the week. Heath had been almost obsessed with the case, and only Ryker’s personal life was keeping him in town right now. Of course, there wasn’t anywhere to go until the psycho took another victim. There wasn’t much they could do until something happened.
God, he hated waiting for something to happen.
He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. Going semi-public and setting down roots in Cisco as a private detective agency to catch the killer had been a good, albeit risky, idea until Greg’s case had come in. Now being semi-public could be a disaster. They had to get to Dr. Madison before she found them.
At the moment, all he could do was wait with a clock silently clicking down in his head.
His phone buzzed, and he read a text from Heath: INTERVIEW ALMOST OVER. ZARA FUCKED. GET A CONTINGENCY PLAN IN PLACE.
Ah shit.
Chapter
27
Zara shivered in the cold as she exited the police station, Heath by her side. Detective Norton had elected not to arrest her quite yet, but he’d implied, rather strongly, that a warrant would be forthcoming. “This is all too weird,” she muttered.
Heath nodded just as Ryker’s truck pulled up to the curb. He opened the door, and helped Zara inside. “She’s in trouble, man. We have to figure this out.”
Ryker nodded, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “I’ll debrief her, and then we need to talk.”
Heath paused. “Safe house three?”
“Yeah, it was Denver. Guy needs help.”
Zara frowned, her chest hurting. “What’s a safe house three?”
“Later,” Ryker said.
Zara frowned. Why were all these bad things happening? Her temper wanted free, and she really needed to kick something. Too bad her gym wasn’t open, because they had an awesome set of boxing dummies. “Why don’t you guys just go talk now? I could use some alone time.”
Ryker cut her a look. “No. You and I will talk, and then I’ll meet up with Heath and Denver.”
Oh, he didn’t get to go all bossy on her now. She moved to get out of the truck, needing space. Definitely space. “Heath? I need a ride home.”