“Ditto,” Clark said. “I didn’t get a chance to research federal law but will get on that tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks. Pierce called and said the case was probably going to get transferred.” I just couldn’t worry about it right now. The idea that I’d beaten Sasha to death by pounding her head into my porch and hitting her with a potato gun was just too ridiculous for me to take seriously. But the woman was dead, so it was a good thing Clark was doing the necessary research. “Night.”
“Night.” He turned back to his computer.
I strode down the hallway to the reception area, where Oliver was just shutting down his computer. “Great job today, Oliver,” I said.
He grinned and looked like that young Opie kid from the old Maybury show on cable re-runs. “Thanks.”
“I think we should keep it informal here and use first names. Also, please don’t ever call me ma’am again. I’d really appreciate it.” My voice stayed as gentle as I could make it.
He didn’t seem put out. “I want clients to know you’re a big deal.”
Ah, the kid was just too cute. Too sweet. “I have E.S.Q. after my name on my business cards.” I grinned. “They already know I’m a big deal.”
“Okay. Why not the ma’am?” He sounded merely curious.
“It makes women feel old. Tip for the future? Never call a woman, ma’am. Use ‘miss,’ and you’ll be golden.” I turned for the door.
“Cool,” Oliver said. “Hey, Anna? Is Kelsey Walker dating anybody?”
I paused and turned back around, every protective instinct I had flaring wide awake. Kelsey was a couple years older than Oliver and had more than her fair share of problems, and he was just a kid. Plus, she’d mentioned a boyfriend and had tossed a purple condom on my desk. “Yeah. She has a serious boyfriend.” I might’ve pushed it with the ‘serious’ part, but who knew? “Why do you ask?” I tried to sound clueless.
“No reason.” His face fell like he’d lost his best friend.
“Okay. See you tomorrow.” I walked out of the office with my laptop bag slung over my arm and moved into the parking area in the alley, where two crime techs were meticulously fingerprinting my vehicle. I’d already forgotten. Sighing, I settled against the brick building to watch.
They shouldn’t take too long.
The techs had taken forever.By the time I drove into my driveway, my stomach was growling so loudly I figured a monster had taken up residence there. I had the top down on my car, which helped with the fingerprint dust because the faster I drove, more flew off.
I wasn’t surprised to see a Harley parked next to my garage.
As usual, my breath sped up, and my extremities tingled. Nerves, anticipation, and energy. Somehow my body always reacted to the thought that Aiden was near. Would that always happen? It was interesting to ponder. I lifted my laptop bag and walked to the porch, where somebody had cleaned all the blood away. Even the crime tape was gone. Had Aiden done it? The porch still looked wet.
I took a deep breath and walked inside, where quiet met me. Dumping my bag on the sofa, I continued through the dining nook to the sliding glass door and found him outside by my table, kicked back on one of my comfy chairs with the daisy decorated cushions. He wore jeans and a faded red T-shirt, his feet bare and a beer in his hand as he looked out at the lake. I toed off my shoes and drew out the chair next to him. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He looked my way, a veil over his stunning blue eyes. “How was your first day at work?”
“Busy,” I admitted, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry about Sasha.”
He took a drink of the sweating beer bottle. “Me too. Do you have any idea what happened?”
“No.” I couldn’t gauge his mood, and that settled tension heavily over my shoulders. “Do you?”
“No.” He finished the beer and studied the lake again. “Gorgeous pictures in the paper. I really liked the one of you punching a Lorde’s old lady in the mouth.”
I winced. “Yeah, I saw that. You can clearly see Sasha in the background.”
“I’m sure the facts about her death will hit the front page tomorrow,” Aiden said wearily, setting down the beer bottle. “She could fight and well. Whoever killed her was trained. Or lucky.”
I was known to be lucky in a fight. “Could her death be associated with the Barensky case? Or a former case?”
“Sure. The ATF is going through all of her cases right now and looking for suspects. But Barensky is a sociopath who has a deep-seated need to blow things up. He would’ve found a more creative way to kill her, and as far as I know, he believed her cover.”
“Is it blown?” I asked.
He lifted one strong shoulder. “We’ll see. Right now, we’re proceeding as if the cover isn’t blown, although that just makes everything more dangerous.”
