Zara kept herself from edging away from the barely controlled violence rolling off him. He had another case to worry about and shouldn’t have to babysit her. “You don’t have to stay,” she whispered.
Heath ignored her and faced the detective. “This is going to get you sued, Detective.”
“I don’t think so.” Norton waited until Heath sat next to Zara. “We have proof, a lot of it, so your client needs to help herself out here and cooperate.”
Heath’s upper lip curled. “You have fingerprints at Julie’s motel, which makes sense because my client visited Julie there. They were friends.” He pushed back from the table. “If that’s all, then I want to bail out my client.”
Norton shook his head. “That’s nowhere near all. We have your client’s ID for the Picalo Club, which is related to the blackmail, I believe. Your client was explaining the money to me.”
Heath frowned. “Right. Zara lent Julie money because her asshole of a husband wouldn’t give her any. There’s no crime in that.”
“I think Zara bought drugs for poor Julie because Julie was blackmailing her.” Norton smiled, full of triumph. “I have a dealer, folks.”
Zara’s mouth gaped open. “No—”
Heath held up a hand. “Stop talking.”
She breathed out.
“You don’t have a dealer who will say that, because that never happened. Stop fishing, Detective. It’s a waste of time.” Heath glanced at a well-used watch on his wrist. “So far, you’re just wasting our time and courting a false arrest lawsuit. Maybe harassment.” His nostrils flared.
Norton leaned to the side of his chair and reached into a briefcase. “Well, we did find this.” He tossed a see-through bag onto the table. It fell with a loud thunk and bounced once.
Zara squinted at a knife covered with what looked like crusty blood. “What the hell?” she breathed.
“I’m betting the farm that it’s the murder weapon.” Norton smiled. “We’ve tested the blood, and results should be back soon.”
“So?” Heath asked.
“So? We executed a search warrant last night on your client’s home, and we found the knife hidden in her bedroom closet beneath several boxes of shoes. In fact, the knife was found in a box of those fancy Manwelloo Blonkers, or whatever they’re called.”
Zara coughed. “That’s impossible.” Her mind spun, and a pit opened in her stomach.
Heath again held up a hand. “I’d like to see the warrant.”
“Of course.” Norton opened his file and slid a stack of papers toward Heath.
Heath read quickly. “Who found the knife?”
Norton lifted an eyebrow. “One of the uniforms found it and called me over. We have pictures and everything.”
Zara turned toward Heath. “Somebody had to have planted it.”
Norton scoffed. “You said your attacker the other night was contained in the kitchen and living room. Nobody entered your bedroom.”
Yeah, but she hadn’t been home since, so somebody could’ve easily entered her house. “But—”
Heath leaned forward, and she stopped talking. Time to listen to her lawyer.
“Fingerprints?” Heath asked, peering closely at the knife through the plastic.
“None.”
Heath glanced up. “So you’re telling me she was smart enough to wipe her prints, but stupid enough to stash the murder weapon in her own box of shoes? Seriously?”
Norton shrugged. “Criminals rarely make sense to me. Maybe she wanted to use it again, or perhaps she gets off on seeing the blood. I don’t know or care.”
Heath shook his head. “You need more than this.”
“Actually, I don’t.” Norton patted his belly. “But I do have more. Guess what, Ms. Remington? I have a witness who saw you at the motel during the time of the murder. The kid at the front desk wasn’t completely asleep when you snuck by right before the time of Julie’s death.” He pushed back from the desk and stood. “Time for a lineup, lady.”
Chapter
30
Ryker barely kept his temper in check as he clicked off the call from Heath.
“How bad?” Denver asked from across Ryker’s desk.
“Bad. Somebody planted the murder weapon in her house, and she just got picked out of a lineup by the front-desk kid of the motel. Heath is posting her bail now, and they should be here within an hour. We might have to run sooner rather than later.” Ryker shot a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”
“Greg will run in the opposite direction.” Denver scratched his scruffy jaw.
“Fuck.” Ryker glanced at the ceiling. “No, he won’t. I’m more worried he’ll try to break into the police station and steal any evidence against her. Or kidnap her and take her to a safe place. The kid adores her.” At the moment, Grams was making cookies in an effort to keep Greg close and eating.
Ryker’s phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen before frowning. What now? Hell, he didn’t have time to talk to the lawyer. “Hi, Brock. I don’t have any news on Jay Pentley’s case.” Except that Zara had been arrested, damn it.