“Meaning?”
Jesus fucking Christ.Trey exhaled heavily. “Meaning I’d lay down my life for his, Brantley. Even if I haven’t admitted it to him yet.”
“All right. Now we’ve gotta figure out why someone believes he’s responsible and who else has had eyes on him since. Not sure you’re enough of an alibi as he’ll need.”
Alibi.
Jesus.
What the fuck had Magnus gotten himself involved in?
*
“I’M GOING TO ASK YOU AGAIN, WHEREwere you last night, Mr. Storme?”
Mr. Storme. Every time the officer said it, Magnus fought the urge to smile. He was not Mr. Storme. That title belonged to his father, God rest his soul.
He stared back at the detective who had not so kindly placed him in this small room with the single table, ass-numbing chair, and the two-way mirror. Magnus wasn’t exactly sure why this guy thought he would be intimidated by this room or by him, but clearly, Detective Arthur Rosenthal believed that his beady-eyed stare was doing something to help things along when, in reality, it only pissed Magnus off, made him want to continue to be petulant and ornery.
“Mr. Storme,” the detective repeated. “I can do this all day long.”
Could he? Could he really?
Magnus offered a purposely vague answer because he was too frustrated to sit there any longer. “I went to a bar with some friends. Now can you tell me what the fuck is going on? Where’s Ava?”
Magnus had been read his rights but informed he was not actually under arrest, yet they hadn’t bothered to tell him why he was there, only that they had some questions for him related to a case they were working on. A case involving Ava March, who was deemed a missing person as of this morning.
“Who were these friends?” Detective Rosenthal asked.
“Why do you care?”
“Mr. Storme, you’re not doing anything to help your case.”
“Mycase?” Magnus cocked his head to the side. “I wasn’t even aware Ihada case. Maybe if I knew whatcaseI might be helping, perhaps I’d answer your questions.”
Sure, he was being a dick, but who could blame him? They’d dragged his ass out of his house while he’d been waiting for his toaster waffles to heat up, and he was starving. What did they call that? Hangry? Yeah. That’s what he was. Hangry.
And scared, but not for himself. He was terrified that something had happened to Ava, and the police wanted to sit on their asses rather than get out there and look for her.
“I’ll need the names of the friends you were with so I can verify your alibi.”
Ah, Jesus.
Magnus sat up straight. “Alibi? Why do I need an alibi?”
Please, please, please God, don’t let Ava be dead.
Before the detective could answer, the door to the small room opened enough for Magnus to see a woman standing in the hallway. She leaned in to say something to Detective Rosenthal. Magnus probably would’ve been paying attention to those words if not for the man he saw standing behind her.
A hot rage filled his blood and had him standing tall. “What the fuck is he doin’ here?”
The woman, eyes wide, immediately stepped out of the room and shut the door.
“Sit down, Mr. Storme.”
Magnus glared down at the detective sitting across from him. “Am I under arrest?”
“We’ve already informed you, not at this time.”
