“Going in?”
Eastern glanced at his deputy. He hadn’t wanted to bring Jarrad this morning, but he’d been the only officer available.He’d witnessed the guy treat people like shit far too many times, and lately, his work ethic just wasn’t there.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Eastern climbed out of the car and headed toward the door of the small Cape Cod. The house was owned by Scott Chase’s parents. It was a second home, usually rented out, but if the town gossip was right, it was where Scott was currently staying.
He stopped at the front door and knocked. Jarrad scanned the yard as they waited. For a few seconds, there was nothing. Then something sounded from inside, and a moment later, the door opened.
Scott’s brows slashed together at the sight of Eastern. “What doyouwant?”
Eastern was careful to keep his composure even though he wanted to be a lot more direct. “Hi, Mr. Chase. We were wondering if we could ask you some questions.”
“Regarding what?”
“Where were you between the hours of four and six a.m. Monday morning?” Eastern asked.
Scott’s brows shot up. “Why the hell do you want to know that?”
“Answer the damn question,” Jarrad said before Eastern could respond.
Scott’s throat bobbed, an angry scowl etching his features. “I was here, asleep. You know, like a normal person.”
“Can anyone verify that?” Eastern asked.
Scott looked like he was going to say something but changed course. “No. My parents live in their other house, so I’m here by myself.”
There was something about Scott’s clipped tone that Eastern disliked.
“Now tell me what this is about,” Scott demanded.
“There was a break-in at one of the shops here in town,” Eastern said, studying Scott’s expression. You could tell a lot by a person’s reactions and expressions. Whether they were genuinely surprised by a fact or they feigned shock.
The frown on his face deepened. “And you think I did it? Why the hell would I come back to town to break into a shop?”
“I think the better question is, why are you still here?” Eastern asked calmly.
For a moment, Scott was quiet, then he gave a half laugh that had no humor behind it. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have leave from work. Are you trying to get rid of me by pinning a crime on me,Sheriff?”
“No,” Jarrad answered, inching forward. “He’s trying to do hisjob. And guess what, you have a shaky-as-hell alibiandyou have motive. Seems to me that’s worth investigating further. Care to let us take your prints and see if they’re a match for the ones found in the store?”
Scott pulled back. “Motive? What the hell are you—” He stopped, understanding crossing his face. “The store was Sugar and Spice.”
“It was,” Jarrad said, taking another small step forward. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
“Jarrad, stop,” Eastern said firmly.
“Why?” he asked. “Maybe this asshole just needs someincentiveto talk.”
Scott frowned at him. “Go to hell.”
Jarrad attempted to grab him, but Eastern gripped his deputy’s arm and tugged him back. “Hey.Stop.”
Scott once again frowned at them. “You want something else from me, you come back with a warrant. Otherwise, leave me the hell alone.”
The door slammed in their faces, and fury exploded through Eastern’s veins as he turned to Jarrad. “What the hell was that?”
Jarrad wrenched his arm from Eastern’s hold. “I was doing my job,boss. Some people need pressure applied to admit to the shit they do. Not everyone’s just going to come out and say ‘Hey, I committed a crime.’”
