“Earlier, actually,” Providence replied. “I talked with him around midnight.”
Braden eyed Dakota. “Where did you go after your event, where Mr. Hastings assaulted you?”
“I already told you. I came here.”
“So, you’re telling us you’ve been here since midnight.”
Dakota nodded. “That’s what I’m saying. No matter how many times you ask me that, my answer won’t change.”
“And how long did you spend with Ms. Reynolds?”
“I was with her the entire time, save for about thirty or forty minutes when I was on the second floor having a drink.”
“Is there video surveillance that shows you here?”
“Yes,” Providence replied. “I deactivated the internal cameras just before the club closed. But the external ones in the front of the building have been on all night.”
“Is there a rear entrance?” asked the officer.
She nodded.
“Surveillance there, too?”
“No,” Providence replied.
Dakota glanced at her. Having no camera out back just bit him in the ass.
“We’d like a copy of the surveillance video.” Cardin rose, pulled out two business cards and offered one to each of them.
Braden also handed out her cards. “We’ll be in touch. Thanks for the coffee.”
Dakota walked them out, locking the door behind them. He found Providence unmoved in the booth. She was staring at him, but looking right through him. He sat beside her. “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into this.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’ve been through an interrogation before and I’ve been a primary suspect. They’re going for the low-hanging fruit. You know, the obvious choice. If you haven’t seen the trending video of what happened at the event last night, you might want to check it out now.”
To his surprise, she didn’t go for her phone. She had this far-away look in her eyes, like she was buried in thought. “I’m sorry, what did you say about being a primary suspect?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” He pushed out of the booth. “I’ve got to find my phone and make some calls. We need to lawyer up.”
* * *
Muscles running the length of Providence’s back were as tight as piano wire. She’d never been on the receiving end of an interrogation and, while the officers were relaxed and friendly, she wasn’t fooled by their delivery. She, too, had played the role of a laid-back law enforcement agent.
Providence needed to speak with her SAC. Patricia Stearns would want answers. No matter how she might try to spin their all-nighter, there was no hiding what she’d done. For starters, she would be removed from the case. Her job was to get close to him, but she’d taken that to the extreme. And now, she was his alibi, unless the medical examiner determined the time of death was before midnight.
Her inability to control her damn libido might very well have cost her her job. Nausea clouded her thoughts. She wanted to throw up.
When Dakota returned, he was talking on his cell phone. “No, I didn’t kill Hastings…of course I’m telling you the damn truth. I need to know if your dad will talk to me.” Dakota leaned against the bar.
Providence eyed the sexy beast and tried to make sense of him. Was he a vigilante? Had he murdered Hastings? All she knew about him was that he was charming with the ladies, good in the sack, and made a decent burger. She shook her head in disgust. Sleeping with him was a bonehead move—one that could end her career. “Don’t embarrass the Bureau” was the unwritten rule agents lived by.I am so screwed.
“I’ll be by later this morning,” Dakota said. “Thanks for your help, bro.” He hung up.
Providence needed to get the hell outa there, clear her head, and figure out a plan. She slid out of the booth and started clearing the table.
Within seconds, he was by her side, his hand on her arm. “Leave that.” Concern was streaming from his eyes. “Sit down.”
