“Thanks,” Jeb replied.
Ace pinched the bridge of his nose. “You two are unbelievable. You know that?”
“I don’t think any of this is funny,” Paige said coolly.
“Neither do I,” Daisy cut in. “We’re done with this interview. He has told you the truth in an attempt to help. That’s enough.”
“All right,” Paige said, closing her notebook. “Then I guess we move to the next step.”
Ace felt the shift before she said it.
She straightened. “We need your second truck, and we’re in the process of getting a warrant. We’re also getting a warrant to search your home again.”
“You don’t need warrants.” He yanked the keys to the truck and his place from his back pocket and slammed them onto the table between them. “Feel free.” The metal rang against the tabletop. “Do I have my Ford back? Or do you need that too?”
“No. That was already in our possession, so you can have that,” Jeb said.
Ace crossed his arms. “You didn’t find anything in it, did you?”
“No,” Paige said. “You obviously know what you’re doing.”
Ace stood. “I didn’t kill anybody.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jeb asked.
“This interview’s over,” Daisy said, standing as well.
“All right.” Paige’s smile was thin. “Ace Osprey, you’re under arrest for suspicion of the murders of Laura Jordan and Ivy Carter. You have the right to an attorney.”
Now they were reading him his rights.
“Just get it done,” he said.
The room seemed smaller as Jeb moved around the table. Ace stood and held out his hands without being told, forcing his expression to remain calm as the cuffs clicked around his wrists. He looked at Daisy. “What happens now?”
She sighed, already shifting into strategy. “It’s early enough that we may be able to get a telephonic hearing. Let’s see if we can get you out without bail. Then the case will go to the district attorney’s office, and we’ll go from there.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Ace didn’t want May uncovered any longer than necessary. Even though he wasn’t thrilled with the troopers, they weren’t wrong about one thing.
Both victims looked a lot like May.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
May let the stethoscope hang around her neck as she walked into the reception area of her clinic and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Finally, blissfully, the room was empty. The late evening light slanted through the front windows, turning the scuffed linoleum a dull gold. The hum of the refrigerator in the lab drifted down the hallway, steady and familiar. After the day she’d had, the quiet felt fragile.
Nancy looked up from behind the reception desk, appearing as haggard as May felt. Her hair had slipped from its clip, and her glasses sat crooked on her nose. “It’s been a crazy one, Doc.”
May stretched her aching neck. “Apparently the flu really is going around town, along with a wave of poison oak cases. Mostly tourists. They don’t recognize the leaves when they see them.”
Nancy gave a tired huff. “No kidding.”
“Have you gotten anything to eat?” May asked.
“I had a protein bar.” Nancy cleared her throat. “Um, Brock and Olly are back in your office.”
May sighed. Her shoulders felt like someone had hung weights from them. “Go get something to eat, Nancy.” She glanced at her watch. “Actually, it’s way after dinner time. Go home.”
Nancy blinked. “Yeah? Is that all right?”
