“So you don’t know why Devlin’s knuckles were as beat to shit as the dead body’s?” Pierce asked.
Yeah, I’d noticed that as well. “Nope.”
Pierce twirled a pen on his desk. “This isn’t looking good for your sister.”
Considering I hadn’t talked to her yet, I didn’t know how bad it looked. “Did you test her hand for GSR?” I asked the question like I knew what I was talking about and hadn’t binge-watched Law & Order all day Sunday, where is actually how I’d learned about gunshot residue. A homicide case was way above my pay grade.
“She tested positive,” Pierce said, seeming relaxed but definitely not missing anything.
I rolled my eyes. “If she picked up the gun that had been used to kill Danny, then the residue would be on her hand. You know that.” I thought that was the truth.
“I also know that only a moron would pick up a gun in that situation,” Pierce retorted. “Unless she was frightened by Devlin. But I’d have to ask what he was doing there.”
I swallowed. “Did you test Aiden’s hand?”
“Yep. Positive as well,” Pierce said, watching me like a bird of prey. “According to him, he was target practicing yesterday, but that’s all he’d own up to—so far. I’m off to interview him next.”
“What about Tessa?”
Pierce shook his head. “She lawyered up right away with Clark Bunne. Wouldn’t say a word.”
Relief cooled the hot ball of anxiety in my stomach. Okay. Good. “Well, then. I guess I’ll go talk to her and figure this out. Let’s hope you’re as good of a detective as you think you are.” With that zinger, I stood.
“Albertini? You’ll have to talk to her tomorrow,” Pierce drawled.
I stopped cold, still facing him. “Why?”
“Because I just arrested her for suspicion of murder. She’s being processed now.”
Chapter 3
Ipaused at the door to the station, looking out at the darkened night. Pierce had arrested my sister? Oh, I wasn’t sure about him before, but this put us squarely on the opposite side of pretty much everything. Even though I was a prosecuting attorney, darn it.
Either way, I couldn’t just leave now. Looking around the reception area, I fumbled in my purse like I’d forgotten something, shook my head, and then returned back up the stairs toward Pierce’s office. Just in case anybody was watching, which I didn’t really think was happening. Of course, there were cameras, so it wouldn’t hurt to be careful right now.
Not that I was doing anything wrong.
Well, not really.
Once I crossed to the second floor where detectives were mainly holed up in their offices, I strode briskly down the hallway to the interrogation rooms. The light for the second one was on above the door, so I whisked around the corner and entered the darkened surveillance room, shutting the door quietly. Then, for some bizarre reason I didn’t want to explore, I tiptoed up to the two-way mirror to see Aiden facing me with Pierce across the table from him.
Pierce’s shoulders looked tense, and Aiden’s expression looked bored.
Oh, this was so not good.
I held my breath, leaning over to engage the speaker system.
“Those are nice bruises on your knuckles,” Pierce was saying, his tone congenial.
“Thanks,” Aiden said, sprawled lazily in his chair. Apparently the police had confiscated his clothing because he now wore an ECSO, Elk County Sheriff’s Office, black shirt that stretched tightly across his spectacular chest. One I had spent hours exploring with my hands and mouth only a couple of weeks ago. He stretched out his right hand, and the knuckles had already turned a painful looking purple.
Pierce tapped a closed case file on the smooth metal table between them. “Once I get the lab results back on Danny Pucci, what are the chances your DNA is found on his body? Say in those bruises around his eyes?”
Aiden lifted one shoulder. “Chances and odds aren’t my thing.”
I shifted my weight, my heart thundering.
Aiden’s gaze flicked from Pierce to directly at me, the blue of his eyes sharp. Oh, there was no way he could see me through the mirror, and no way he could hear me. He did not know I was there.
