Livvy didn’t have to guess the man’s mood. The muscles in Anthony’s face and his mouth were tight. His eyes were narrowed, and he aimed those eyes at Ethan and her.
“Why the hell was I ordered to come in again?” Anthony snapped.
Livvy sighed. “Because we need to ask you some questions.”
He spewed out some raw profanity while he made his way through the metal detector. “You want to harass me, that’s what. You think I killed Chloe. I didn’t. But I’m not sorry she’s gone. Chloe got exactly what was coming to her.”
“Which means you had motive to murder her,” Ethan pointed out. “And before you say anything else, let me refresh your Miranda warning.”
Ethan proceeded to do just that while Anthony glared at them and spouted off more of that profanity. The chatter must have alerted Grace because she opened her office door. She had her phone to her ear but issued an “I’ll get back to you” to the caller. She ended the call and looked at Anthony.
“You’re the one who ordered me in,” Anthony complained, but he didn’t give Grace a chance to confirm that. “And here I should be celebrating that witch’s death instead of being hauled in here to be grilled.”
“This way,” she insisted, waggling her fingers for Anthony to follow her. “Livvy and Ethan, you’re welcome to join us.”
They took Grace up on that offer and entered her office. Probably because the interview rooms were all still occupied.Grace immediately went to her printer to retrieve something that she then put on her desk. Livvy saw that it was a copy of the sketch she’d just done with Nova.
“I printed it out so I could have a better look at it,” Grace muttered to her as they were taking their seats. “Thanks for doing that. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”
Livvy nodded. It hadn’t been easy, but in hindsight, it was something she should have done years ago. It was time she faced the truth.
Whatever that truth might be.
Grace sat behind her desk, and she hit the recording function on her phone before shifting her attention to Anthony. She was doling out just as much of a glare as he was while she read in the pertinent time, place and those present for the interview.
“Mr. Carlton, tell us your whereabouts this morning,” Grace started.
“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t at New Hope shooting Chloe.” Smugness replaced his glare. That didn’t last, though, because of Grace’s withering stare. “All right, fine. I was at home.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?” Grace was quick to ask.
“No.” He didn’t seem bothered about that either. “I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.”
She shrugged. “Or I can do a gunshot-residue test to see if you recently fired a gun.”
Something went across Anthony’s face. Alarm, maybe. “Don’t you need a warrant for that?”
Grace lifted a paper from her desk. “Which I have. Just a few more questions, and then I’ll do the swab—”
“I fired a gun,” Anthony blurted. “Not at New Hope,” he was quick to add. “But at Hannigan’s.”
Livvy knew the place. It was one of those massive sporting goods stores outside of San Antonio that had a firing range.
“So, you just happened to shoot a gun there at the same time there was an attack at New Hope?” Grace asked, the skepticism coating her voice.
“No, it didn’t just happen,” Anthony snarled. “After what happened to Zadie, I wanted to buy a gun for protection.”
“When I view the surveillance feed for Hannigan’s, you’ll be on it?” Grace pressed.
“Yes,” Anthony said without hesitation. “I was there yesterday.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “And you bought a gun?”
“I did,” he verified. “It’s in the glove compartment of my car.”
After a glance from Grace, Ethan took out his phone. “Should I go ahead and get started on a warrant to confiscate the gun and examine it?”
“Absolutely.” She paused a heartbeat. “Unless Anthony will voluntarily let us look at it and check to see if it matches the caliber of the shots fired at New Hope.”
