THIRTEEN
Kurt awoke in a good mood. He finally felt that Brittany was warming up to him. Austin was a difficult competitor, and if this was a race, the rich guy would always win. But as long as Kurt kept reminding her that Austin was still a suspect, maybe—just maybe—she wouldn’t fall in love with the man, but with Kurt instead.
However, she definitely couldnotfall in love with Austin. Men like that deserved to spend the rest of their life in prison. Men like Austin believed themselves to be above the law. Men like Austin were one of the reasons Kurt became a policeman in the first place.
Kurt’s father wasn’t a great example of being an upright citizen in the community, either. When he divorced Kurt’s mother, his father married a wealthy woman, just for her money. That still didn’t make him want to pay child support. The few times Kurt had visited his father, it seemed like the new wife and her son walked around as if they owned the town. Kurt always kept an eye on his stepbrother. That kid was sneaky, especially in school. Kurt wondered if he was paying the teachers just to pass him to the next grade.
His stepbrother always seemed to get the girl, which didn’t surprise Kurt at all since all those girls saw were dollar signs. His stepbrother enjoyed flaunting his wealth—and women—in front of Kurt. In all those years, he kept reminding himselfhewas the better person. Once he turned eighteen, he was able to decide for himself whether or not he wanted to be part of his dad’s life. Kurt decided against it. He didn’t need that kind of influence in his life.
Only one good thing came out of knowing his father’s new family. It had instilled the determination inside Kurt to become a policeman and capture crafty criminals who thought they were above the law and throw them in the slammer.
Kurt waited impatiently for Brittany to arrive. Every two minutes, he kept checking the clock. She was never late, but if she didn’t walk in the door any second now, she would be breaking her record.
His conscience still nagged at him, reminding him that Brittany was his partner. He shouldn’t become romantically involved with his partner. There were too many horror stories of things like that happening on the force. Being attracted to one’s partner, made that police officer sloppy. They couldn’t think clearly, which of course, a good police detective needed in this line of work.
“Are you ready?”
The sweet voice jerked him from staring at his computer as he looked up at Brittany. She dressed like she did every day—wearing mouth-watering dark blue jeans that hugged her hips—and a nice blouse and her sensible walking shoes. And always, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. But there was something different about her countenance. There was a certain twinkle in her brown eyes, and a lift to her heart-shaped lips.
Silently, he cheered. He’d bet anything that she looked this way because of the kiss they’d shared last night. He definitely had a bounce in his step and happiness in his heart because of their kiss.
“Yes, I’m ready.” He pushed away from the desk and stood. “Are you driving or do you want me?”
“I’ll drive.” She jiggled her keys.
He smiled. He liked when she drove, mainly because it gave him more time to admire her profile. Plain and simple, he loved just watching her.
“Have you heard anything about the other suspects?” she asked, climbing into the car.
As soon as he sat and tightened his seatbelt around him, he turned toward her. “Yes. We know that Robert Phipps and Kevin Shupe are pricey lawyers. Both Reeder and Chad Johnson are wealthy. Tim Beaton is a congressman, and Lenny Lytle is the mayor’s son. Each man except one has an alibi.”
“Has the alibi’s been checked out?” Brittany asked without looking at him as she merged into traffic.
“Yes, and they all seem legit. But, Britt…Reeder is the only one who hasn’t given us his alibi.”
Her jaw hardened, and her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I got it last night.”
Kurt held his breath as his heart began to slowly crumble. “You…went without me?”
“Kurt,” her shoulders sagged, but she continued to keep her eyes on the road. “I had a gut feeling that Austin wasn’t guilty, so last night after I left you, I went to see him. I…” Her throat lurched. “I told him the truth about my identity.”
“You what?” Anger rose inside him and he fisted his hands. Several times during their year-long partnership, he’d wanted to shake some sense into the headstrong woman. Now was certainly one of those moments.
“I would have told him eventually. You know how I feel about lying.”
He gritted his teeth. “Did he give you his alibi before or after you told him the truth?”
“After.”
Inwardly, he growled. “Britt, how do you know he didn’t lie?”
“Kurt,” her fingers moved on the steering wheel as if she was trying to choke something, “I know you have something against Austin, but I feel deep in my gut that he didn’t lie.”
“What was his alibi?” he snapped.
“Remember when I told you that he’d been in a merger that had lasted forty-eight hours, and that’s the reason he was in his penthouse suite that particular afternoon?”
“Yes.”
