“Sheriff, you’d better have a decent reason for arresting Seth this time.” A tall man in a sleek gray Armani suit led the way, his hair a perfect salt and pepper, his skin bronzed from sun obviously enjoyed away from Washington state.
The sheriff sighed. His hair wasmoresalt than pepper, and grooves cut lines into the sides of his mouth. Apparently, Sheriff Pete Maxwell had spent some time at the local diner over the last year if the strain on his brown uniform was any indication. “Your client is a killer,” he said shortly.
“That’s slander,” the tall guy said, stopping in front of Mia. “Who the hell are you?”
Seth stepped toward the bars.
Mia had the strangest urge to wave him back. She focused on the well-dressed man and extended her hand. “Mia Stone.”
He took her hand, gripping tightly as they shook. “Prat Lenessee, Mr. Volk’s attorney. I do hope you didn’t question my client outside of my presence, Stone.”
Mia slid her cop face into place, biting back a wince at the hard pressure. This wasn’t the first asshole lawyer she’d dealt with. “I’m not a cop.”
Lenessee released her. “If the police invited you here, then you’re an agent of the police, so you’re as good as a cop.”
Yet she wasn’t. She might not ever be a cop again. In any case, instead of wallowing, she allowed a slightly pissed-off smile to curve her lips with the unintimidating pink lipstick she’d chosen. “I’ve shaken a lot of men’s hands, Mr. Lenessee. The ones with obvious insecurities,”—she dropped her gaze to his pressed pants and then traveled back up to his face—“always grip too hard.”
Surprise opened his mouth, which he quickly snapped shut.
Her smirk widened just enough to let him know she saw the surprise. “Yougrip too hard.”
In her peripheral vision, she caught a flash of Seth’s grin.
The sheriff chortled, not even trying to hide his amusement.
Yeah. No doubt the lawyer thought she’d shake off the purposeful show of strength. She hadn’t been the best profiler in DC for nothing…well, until they determined she’d grown crazier than the bastards she hunted. Throwing an attorney off track was half the fun of her former job.
He leaned over her in an obvious intimidation tactic. “Perhaps you’re too soft to play with the big boys.”
Seth hissed out a breath. “Lenessee, get me the hell out of here.” His voice rumbled low with threat and danger.
The attorney straightened to stare at Seth. “Of course. Your bail has been posted, Mr. Volk.” The lawyer’s tone hinted at no deference, no affection, and no respect. If anything, he seemed indifferent to the point of condescension.
The sheriff exhaled loudly and unlocked the door, sliding it open.
Seth stepped out.
Lenessee retreated.
Interesting.
Mia glanced from Seth to the lawyer. The attorney was on guard. Just how dangerous was Seth that even his lawyer feared him?
He brushed by the attorney, heading down the hallway without another word.
Lenessee turned to the sheriff. “You had no basis to arrest him, and you know it. You might want to contact the county attorneys, because there will be a civil rights violation filed by the end of the day.”
“No, there won’t.” Seth’s low voice rumbled back before he shoved open the exit door and disappeared.
Lenessee inhaled, both nostrils flaring. Pivoting on Italian loafers, he strode after his client.
The sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Well?”
Mia shrugged. “I don’t know. But I want to find out.” Turning, she hustled away from the cells, moved through the small interior of the police station, and out to the waiting room.
The space held several worn leather chairs around a large coffee table displaying magazines about hunting, farming, and football. A wide wall of windows looked out onto the deserted Main Street.
Mia skirted the table and stared out the window.
