Emily had fallen asleep, cradled against his chest.
It still stunned Clint when he considered that this was real. She was real.
In prison he’d learned not to count on anything. Even now, he couldn’t allow himself to hope that this connection meant anything other than the desperate need to cling to someone in all this insanity.
Allowing her involvement in what he knew had to be done next would do far worse than tarnish her reputation with her friends. That was the part that worried him.
He had confirmation of his alibi. He had the primary, the only, witness seeing that night a whole different way.
But he needed to know what really happened that night. All the guessing and theories in the world wouldn’t help. Emily had told him about her detailed lists, and even though much of it held merit, none of it was evidence. He needed evidence or some way to prove the identity of Heather’s murderer.
Since Ray Hale refused to talk about that night with him, there was just one place he might be able to get additional information.
The case files.
He needed to get his hands on those files. To review the suspect/witness interviews for any details he hadn’t been told. Ray claimed therewas nothing to see, that he didn’t have the case files in his office any longer. Then he’d offered that story about possible water damage. Clint wasn’t buying it.
If Ray had something to hide, and Clint wasn’t saying he did, he might decide to dispose of the files before Clint got himself a more aggressive attorney and forced the issue.
He couldn’t take that chance.
Four hours ago, before he’d ended up in the parking lot across the street from the Valley Inn, he’d gathered the tools he thought he might require and decided to do what needed to be done. But as he’d passed this place he’d thought about Emily and whether or not she was actually safe, considering Turner’s murder. Clint had stopped and, well, he’d ended up here.
He snuggled his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. He didn’t want to go but he had to.
Turner’s murder had made one thing crystal clear: Clint’s tactic had worked. Heather’s killer was nervous.
Clint wanted him. He wanted him bad.
As much as he would like to stay right here with Emily, he had to get this done now, before it was too late.
He carefully untangled himself from her sweet body. She mumbled something in her sleep and he held still, let her settle again, and then he managed to get out of bed without waking her. Gathering his clothes as he went, he edged into the bathroom and closed the door. He grimaced when it creaked. After dressing, he washed his face with cold water to ensure he was fully alert. He combed his fingers through his hair and stared at his reflection a moment. If he got caught he would likely go back to prison. At the very least he’d spend time in jail here.
It was a risk he had to take.
He opened the bathroom door slowly, hoping it wouldn’t creak this time. It did. Didn’t matter, he realized, when his gaze landed on Emily standing at the end of the bed, already fully dressed except for her shoes.
“Whatever you’re planning,” she said with a tone that told him he could forget any negotiations, “I’m going with you.” He stood there for several moments in a kind of shock. As much as he appreciated her desire to help him, this was way too risky.
By the time he’d regrouped and come up with a proper argument, she had slipped on her sneakers and stared at him exactly like the next brick wall he’d already hit.
“You’re going after those files, aren’t you?”
He hesitated when he should have been running, putting some distance between her and the new danger his actions could very well trigger. He shouldn’t have told her about requesting to see the files. “It might not help,” he countered.
“It’s the only way you’re going to know if there’s more you weren’t told,” she argued.
She was right, but that didn’t give her license to get involved. “You’ll only slow me down,” he challenged. “This has to be done fast and with as little noise and as few mistakes as possible.”
“I’m head of the files department at a major research facility. I know more about filing systems than you can imagine exists. You need me. I can evaluate the filing system and find what you’re looking for in minutes. It could take you hours.”
He wished she wasn’t right about that. “You understand that if we’re caught, this won’t be just breaking and entering.” He had to be out of his mind to even consider this. “The community will look at you the way they look at me.”
“I understand.”
Still, he stood there, hoping she would change her mind.
She didn’t.
