Kyle shook his head as he watched through the observation glass while Sandra Monroe told her story to the deputy Tom had assigned to take her statement. “Look at her body language,” Kyle murmured. “She’s clearly been coerced. I can see that even without knowing the backstory. And you can tell she’s been coached by the way she’s telling the story. Every time Adam asks her a question to clarify a detail, she turns to look to her father for approval.”
“I don’t think Monroe cares that we know she’s lying,” Gabe told them. “Just planting the doubt against Elle and me serves his purpose, even when we’re cleared later. This is just a diversion.”
“From what?” Joe asked.
Gabe shook his head. “Wish I knew.”
Tom jerked his chin toward the glass. “Jeremy’s up.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes as he watched and listened to Jeremy’s account of Gabe’s encounter with Sandra. There was just enough truth in it to be believable.
Joe grunted in disgust. “He’s pretty damned twitchy. Wonder what Monroe threatened to do to them if they didn’t lie for him.”
“Considering what he did to his daughter just for talking to me, God knows,” Gabe murmured, wishing like hell that he’d been able to persuade Sandra to get into his car. Seeing her in person was even worse than what the pictures showed. He fisted his hands at his sides, forcing himself to stay where he was and not charge in there and beat the shit out of Monroe for treating his own daughter with such brutality.
A loud scraping of chairs on the tile floor jolted Gabe from his thoughts. “They’re finished? It’s only been half an hour.”
“Guess that’s all you need when you’re lying out your ass,” Kyle said.
Gabe started for the door, but Tom intercepted him, covering the doorknob with his hand before Gabe could reach for it. “No way. You stay here until they’ve cleared out. The last thing you need is that bastard causing a scene in front of half the department.”
Gabe clenched his jaw, furious at having to hide like a fucking coward, but he raised his arms and took a couple of steps back to let his brothers leave. A few minutes later, Joe opened the door and stuck his head in.
“All clear, but I’d go out the back,” he said. “News cameras are out front. Monroe’s giving them quite the statement.”
“I’ll bet.” Gabe jerked open the door and stormed down the hall toward the back entrance.
“Oh, hey, Gabe!” Joe called after him.
Gabe halted. “Yeah?”
“Abby said to tell you she tried calling Elle a couple of times to let her know Monroe was leaving, but Elle didn’t answer. Went straight to voice mail. You might want to try giving her a call yourself.”
That prickling sensation beneath Gabe’s skin came rushing back with a vengeance. “Why the hell is Elle wanting to know when Monroe leaves?”
Joe frowned. “Got me. You don’t know anything about it?”
Gabe shook his head. “No.”
He turned back to the door, his pace increasing with each step—as was his concern for Elle and what she might be getting herself into growing. He shoved open the door and dialed Elle’s number as he jogged to his Tahoe, wincing a little from his still-healing leg, grateful he was parked off to the side and didn’t have to deal with all the damned news vultures.
When Elle’s voice mail picked up again, he barked a quick message for her to call him as soon as she could, then tossed the phone into the seat beside him with a curse. He threw the Tahoe into reverse and peeled out, racing in the direction of Elle’s house, his heart hammering.
“Jesus, Elle,” he murmured. “What the hell are you doing, honey?”
Chapter 23
Elle swallowed hard as the cabbie drove up the long drive that led to the Monroe home. The house was the standard two-story farmhouse that had been so common in the area when the Monroe family moved there several generations ago. The paint on the wood siding was peeling and the porch was leaning a little to the left, but the grounds were impeccably tended, the flower beds beautiful. The fields that stretched out for numerous acres around and behind the house were thriving.
In addition to the farmhouse, there were two enormous outbuildings—one looked like some kind of storage facility for farm equipment; the other might’ve been a barn for livestock at some point, but now was little more than a glorified garage. Several cars in various states of disrepair and two ATVs were parked in front of the structure.
Elle had to give Jeb Monroe credit. For all his despicable traits, he took a great deal of pride in his land. She could hardly blame him for being so upset when a large portion of the family farm had been seized by the government. If she’d had to give up her family’s legacy due to circumstances beyond her control, she would’ve been furious and heartbroken as well. But that didn’t excuse Monroe’s efforts to incite his own children to murder or his own brutality against his family.
The cab came to a halt in front of the porch and Elle took a deep breath. “Could you please wait here? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure thing, lady,” the cabbie said with a shrug. “Meter’s running.”