He points his handcuffed hands toward the file folder. “What’s in there?”
I squint my eyes at him. “It was something I thought you’d be able to help me with. But, now I’m not so sure.”
He sits up straighter. “I’m good at helping. Especially for you. Anything for you, Lina.”
“Hmm.”
“Seriously. What can I do? What do you need?”
I tap my finger against my lip. “Well, I need to solve some murders.”
His eyebrows go up. “Murders?”
“Some guys we know.”
“Really?” Dash leans forward. “Tell me about them.”
“I’ll do you one better,” I open the folder to the crime scene photographs. “Maybe you can look at these and tell me what you see?”
I feel nauseous when his eyes dance at looking at crime scene photos. I push it down and think of Rand. I need to be cool as a cucumber. Ice freaking cold like this is an Outkast song.
I can do this. I have to.
I pull out the first one. “Here’s Nate Almond.”
“I remember him. You dated him after me.”
“I did,” I affirm.
“Never liked that fucker. He told me he was going to take your virginity.”
“He said that to you?” I tilt my head.
Dash wiggles in his seat. “Not exactly. He was bragging about it all over the place. Wasn’t he in a car crash?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
I pause then flip over the next photo. “How about Zack Cicero?”
Dash leans back. “Another of your jackass ex-boyfriends. Also liked to talk about sex. A little too much.”
“I see. And when did you have this conversation with him?”
Dash crosses his ankle over his leg and picks non-existent lint off the pants. “After we got back together in college.”
Ice snakes slither down my back. “When we got back together?”
Dash smirks. “Yeah. Our hookup in college. You remember. When you came to visit me at that party?”
“Hookup?” I squeak.
“Duh.”
I clench my hands into fists and remind myself to breathe. Dash is handcuffed to the table between us. When my Marine friend trained me in self-defense, he showed me how little pressure it would take to drop a man like a sack of potatoes. What would it take to cut off Dash’s airway right now? Did I have the guts to take his life?
“You couldn’t do it.”
“What?”
