Ace barely held onto his temper. He wanted a drink. “I went to see Dr. May Smirnov.”
Jeb crossed his muscled arms. His square jaw hadn’t softened with age, and the lines around his mouth deepened as he spoke. “Really? At ten o’clock at night?”
“Yeah.” Ace met his stare evenly.
“Were you injured in the fight?” Paige asked.
Wouldn’t that be convenient? “Not really.” Ace figured a split lip didn’t count.
“Okay. So why did you go see the doctor?” Jeb asked.
“I had a question for her. It’s personal. I’m not going to tell you what it’s about. Doctor-patient privilege and all of that,” Ace retorted.
“You weren’t at her clinic,” Paige said. “You were at her house.”
Ace lifted one shoulder. “A doctor’s a doctor. A patient’s a patient.” Of course he hadn’t gone to see her because of doctor-patient privilege. The memory of that soft kiss still burned in his bloodstream, unwanted and distracting at the moment. The doctor had sweet lips.
“Did you stay the night with the doctor?” Paige asked.
“No.” Ace said. “I left probably half an hour later.”
Jeb studied him. “Can anybody confirm that?”
“Well… the doctor can.” Ace didn’t like involving her.
Paige looked up from her notes. “Are you in a relationship with Dr. Smirnov?”
Heat flashed through his veins. “I wish, but no. I’ve asked her out. She said no. So there is no personal relationship between us.” He couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. About the way she’d looked at him afterward. He sure as hell wasn’t sharing that.
“So then what?” Paige asked.
Ace kept his face placid. “That was the end of my night.” There was no need to tell them where he’d really gone. It was none of their business.
“You went right home, according to your statement to AWT Dutch Reddick.” Paige tugged a sheet of paper from the back of her notebook and looked it over.
“Yes,” Ace agreed. “I went right home.”
Jeb craned his neck to read the paper. “You’d say you got home about ten-thirty?”
“That sounds about right.” Ace frowned. “I wasn’t really paying attention. Maybe eleven.”
Paige zeroed in on the details. “Ten-thirty or eleven?”
Ace exhaled. “About eleven, maybe. Or even eleven-thirty. I wasn’t watching the clock.”
“Did you drive?” Jeb asked.
“Yes.”
Jeb tapped a pen lightly against the table. “How much had you had to drink?”
“Not much. A couple of beers.” Which was actually true. He’d been sticking to beer lately. Amka had noticed. Nobody else had.
“What did you do when you got back to your place at…what was it…eleven-ish?” Paige asked.
Warning ticked through Ace from her tone. “I went to bed.”
“Really?” Jeb asked.
