“Darby.” I jerked my chin to the door.
Colson was already dialing the chief when Darby and I stepped into the hallway.
He began, “I got everything else you asked?—”
“Not here, kid.”
The station was a flurry of chatter and whispers, sudden overachievers swinging by the station at four in the morning. I had no doubt everyone in town would know about the “Slaying in the Park,” by daybreak.
I led Darby down to the hallway, past the conference room, glancing in to make sure Sunny Harper hadn’t popped the window locks and escaped, because, for some reason, I knew she was capable of it.
But she hadn’t moved. Same posture. Same unnerving composure. She sat perfectly still, her expression unreadable,except for the tell: her curls were frizzier than before. She’d been running her hands through them. Nervous energy.
Our eyes met.
She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Her gaze tracked me like a wolf sizing up a threat—or a challenge. It landed right in my chest, pressed down hard, and stirred something I didn’t like acknowledging.
There was something magnetic about her. Dangerous.
I broke the stare first and led Darby into the observation room, clicking the door shut behind us.
“Go.” I crossed my arms over my chest and faced him, keeping Sunny in my peripheral.
He fumbled with the papers he was carrying, a slight tremble in his hands. “Uh. Yes. Okay?—”
“Darby.”
He looked up.
“Take a deep breath. Calm yourself. You are stressing me the fuck out.”
He nodded, took a shaky deep breath, then another. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know you just saw your first dead body. Accept it, get over it, and focus. It happens. Control yourself. Now. Go.”
“Okay.” Another breath. “So I dug up everything I could on Miss Harper…”
“Yes. Go.”
Holy hell this kid.
“Do you want her background first or?—”
“Background.”
“Okay. Miss Harper is a twenty-eight year old?—”
“Dog trainer who’s social media is comprised primarily of work-related posts. It appears that Miss Harper is anintrovert, has no friends or social life, and is a hermit on all counts…”
“You got all that from one ten minute interview?”
“Comes with experience. Deeper, I need deeper, Darby.”
“Okay, so yes, you’re right on all counts. The woman appears to be a hermit. She started an LLC for her dog training company a few months ago. Runs it by herself. Other than social media posts about that, there are a few posts about wine and that’s it. She likes wine.”
“What kind?”
“Uh, reds. Bordeauxs.”
