JT looked at his sister. “The dog drinks booze?”
At the word, Roscoe yipped and ran over to JT, where he planted his butt, looking up expectantly. JT stared at the dog. “Huh.”
“He’s got a little problem,” Millie said.
JT reached down and scratched Roscoe behind the ears. “Alcohol’s really bad for dogs.”
“We know. That’s why we keep it away from him. Though, to be honest, sometimes he secures a bottle anyway.” She leaned forward. “He also has a slight problem with high heels,” she whispered.
JT ruffled Roscoe’s fur, making the dog lean into him more. “Lots of dogs eat shoes.”
“No, he likes to wear them,” Scott said.
“Huh,” JT said again. That seemed to be his main mode of communication. “Back to you being in jail for the night. Did you get in a bar fight?”
Millie shoved her hands through her curls, making them even wilder. “No. Apparently somebody killed Clay Baker, and I was kind of found in his bed covered in blood with my specialty fishing knife next to me.”
Oddly enough, JT’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t even twitch. “If you killed him, let me know. We’ll have to make provisions for you to get out of town.”
“I didn’t kill him.” Millie threw both hands up. “Seriously, JT. Get a grip.”
JT flicked his gaze up at Scott. “Did you kill him?”
“No,” Scott said. “Did you?”
JT stood straighter and scratched beneath his jaw. “No. If I had, I sure wouldn’t have left my blood-covered sister with him.” That actually made sense. “A lot of people wanted him dead,” JT said thoughtfully. “Did you go home with him?”
“I don’t remember,” she said.
For the first time, JT’s gaze sharpened. “Were you drugged?”
She paled. “I think so, but we’re waiting to hear the results from the hospital. They tested for everything.”
“Huh. Call me the second you hear. For now, I’ll take that fishing charter group out this afternoon. They should be here in about half an hour.” He looked at Scott. “You staying for a while?”
“No,” Millie said.
Scott had no idea. “Just until we figure this out.”
JT looked at his sister. “Is he a good lawyer?”
Scott stared at the pixie. Would she lie?
She kicked a pebble. “Yes.” Though she made it sound like a bad thing.
“Good.” With that, JT turned on his heel and prowled toward the boats on the other side of the bunkhouse.
Scott glanced at Millie. “Your brother, huh?”
“Yep,” she said.
His phone buzzed and he opened an email from one of his associates. “Ah, crap,” he muttered.
She stiffened. “What now?”
He forced himself to meet her gaze. “We made theDC Tribunealready—thanks to the Werner Dearth divorce case.”
She kicked a pebble. “Fantastic. I’m sure my bosses will love that. What’s the headline?”
