His square jaw tightened. With his styled brown hair and green eyes, he might’ve been cute if he wasn’t still pointing a gun at me. “Was it you who fired that weapon off in here? Pinny was screaming in my ear when she called.”
“Uh, I don’t know Pinny, but I don’t have a gun. I was robbed,” I said, pointing at my room. “I promise. No gun.”
“Hm.” He holstered his weapon at his side, which I counted as a win. I lowered my hands, but he glared at me, as if maybe he thought I shouldn’t have as he hustled past me to the room. He took a second looking around, then spun and planted his hands on his hips. “Where’s your girlfriend?” He pointed at my lingerie. “Can she corroborate your story?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” I mumbled, my face burning. I was irked that he automatically thought I was lying, which maybe he could tell because he turned to frown at me.
“Seeing as you’re the only one here, and I got a call about a gunshot, and you’re American, I think we’ll take you to the station.” He tilted his head as he stared at me, then nodded once. I didn’t like the way he used his thumb to shove up the bill of his blue cap, as if he was considering all the ways I could be up to no good.
“What? I didn’t do anything! I’m the victim of a crime here!” I jabbed a finger around at the mess in my room. “I’m a tourist!”
“That’s what someone who was firing guns and stealing things would say, isn’t it? Americans love their guns.” He shook his head at me, as if I, personally, was responsible for the American gun culture.
I flushed, my face on fire, but it wasn’t like I could deny that one. If I had been doing those things, I would say exactly what I’d just said, so all I did was shrug. “I didn’t do it!”
“Then come along and go to the station with me while we get this sorted.” He drew out a pair of cuffs, and I groaned.
“You don’t need those. Listen—”
“No,youlisten.” He held up the cuffs. “Either you come along, or I’ll have to turn this into a real issue,” he said, tone hardening. “Cooperate.”
Groaning, I hung my head but held my hands out. Turned out the cold cuffs felt the same here as they did at home, and I had no choice except to follow the man. Another officer was talking to the woman in the pink blazer when we left the room, and she pointed at me and said something to the officer—who she seemed to know pretty well, based on how close they were standing. Fuck, what was she saying?
“Let’s go. We’re not here to put socks on caterpillars,” the cop with me said, shoving my shoulder.
“What now?” I asked, truly confused.
“Just walk and stop wasting time,” he snarled, and I did as he said.
Once we were outside, I held in a snicker because we didn’t go in a cruiser. He plopped me in the seat beside him on a golf-cart looking blue vehicle withpolicein blue letters on a white plate across the front. I lost the battle, and he must’ve caught me chuckling because he scowled.
“Where did you stash the gun, mate?”
“I don’t have one,” I said with a sigh.
“We’ll see, hey? You were met at the airport by some interesting men. Men who get into things they shouldn’t around here. You have anything to say about that? You know the blokes who work for Legend Sweeney?”
Groaning, I dropped my head back and let it rest against the seat. The heat began to get to me quickly and sweat trickled down the back of my neck and made my suit feel like I was baking in a sauna. “Nope.”
It turned out, police stations in Australia weren’t much different than at home. I’d been picked up by the cops a few times as a kid and held there until my mom came to get me because I’d been trespassing or other stupid shit. Humiliation washed through me as I was shoved into an uncomfortable plastic chair outside ofConstableCampbell’s office—I’d learned his name after he’d gotten done asking me about seventy-five more times where I’d stashed the gun I didn’t have. He glared at me as he removed the cuffs from my wrists, then went into his office.
He was very determined to crack this giant case. I got the feeling Townsville didn’t have a ton of crime.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I was too embarrassed to tell Cillian where I was, so I just ignored it.
Time dragged.
No one came out to formally arrest me or let me go.
At least two hours crawled by with my phone going off every now and again. Finally, I couldn’t stand the annoying vibrating anymore, so I checked my messages.
Cillian: Where the hell are you, lad?
Finn: Police station. They’re holding me here. Can’t leave. Pretty sure someone stole our passports out of our hotel rooms, but that’s not why they’re keeping me.
Cillian: Stay put.
Glaring at the phone, I huffed. Like I had any choice.
