Page 317 of Property of Whiskey

There it is. Exact. Clean. Recorded.

My heartbeat picks up, but I keep my expression flat.

“You threatened him.”

“No.”

“You sent him a picture of me.”

“I did no such thing.”

“But somebody did.”

Crowley says nothing.

I push. “Somebody connected to Pearly Gates photographed a sixteen-year-old girl outside her school because her sheriff father was asking questions.”

“I wasn’t responsible for every act committed by people who believed in protecting the ministry.”

There. Got you. My face stays neutral while every alarm in my head starts ringing.

“You just admitted people acting to protect the ministry threatened my family.”

“I admitted nothing.”

“Sounded pretty clear.”

His eyes drop.

Not toward my gun. Lower. My body cam.

Fuck. I see the exact moment he notices the blinking light.

His smile returns, but it’s different now.

Cold.

“You really are your father’s daughter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Crowley reaches toward my chest.

I step back immediately, one hand settling near my weapon. “Don’t touch me.”

His fingers stop halfway.

“I wondered how long you’d let the little light blink.”

Shit.

He knew. I keep my face calm.

“You were hoping I’d confess.”

“You came here hoping I’d scare.”

“Perhaps we’re both disappointed.”