“She? Dolores?”
“No, she died tonight. Someone shot her.”
“Oh, Zach I’m sorry.”
He’d worry about Dolores’ death later. Grace problem he could do something about. He hoped she would let him. “Thanks, but I think Grace needs your help.”
“Grace. I’ll be at the station in fifteen minutes.
Tell her not to answer any questions until I get there.”
“She’s been there for a few minutes, now.”
“Then you get there and hold them off. Professional courtesy or something.”
Zach disconnected, hoping he wasn’t too late.
Grace sat in the interrogation room, a lukewarm cup of coffee in front of her. No one would tell her anything. No one would tell her if Dolores died.
Her gaze kept straying to where a clock should be. She had no idea what time it was. Her cell was off and in her purse, but they’d taken that.
She did know Dolores was probably dead. And she’d have to go back again. And Zach wouldn’t know her. Her heart ached at the idea.
She could not think of a reason why she sat here stewing. What game were they playing?
Finally, the two detectives that had brought her in arrived in the room.
“I’m Detective Harding. This is Detective Warren.”
Harding had a day’s growth of beard on a loose-fleshed face. Warren was younger and slimmer as if he hadn’t grown into his body yet. Mark looked like that when they first met.
“Why am I here and do I need a lawyer?”
Harding sat on the edge of the table, on the opposite of her. His warm smile didn’t soothe her. “Please don’t do the ‘good cop/bad cop.’”
“We have some questions about your version of the story.”
“My version?”
Grace’s mouth went dry. She’d been in interrogation rooms before today. And the scenario had always worked out, but not without a fight. She steeled herself.
“You say you heard the shot and came running from your apartment.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t see anyone exit Ms. Holten’s house.”
“No, but I wasn’t looking either. The night was dark and there were no lights on.”
“You didn’t turn on an outside light?”
“The one outside of my place had blown out and I had not replaced it.”
Dolores could corroborate her story. If she were alive.
“Did anyone else notice this?”
“Other than my landlord?”
“Yes.”
“Not that I know of.”
“Ms. Holten maybe?”
“Yes, but I don’t think she’s in any state to tell you that.”
The detectives exchanged a glance.
“She’s dead isn’t she?”
“Now why would you think that?” Harding asked.
“Because of your look. The one that passed between you.”
“We found the murder weapon.”
Ah, here it comes. “Where?”
“In the trashcan on the other side of the garage.” “Makes sense if he came out of Dolores’ house and ran.”
“He? Why do you think it’s a ‘he’?”
“I assumed,” she said.
“Or you know something about it?” Warren this time.
Her head went back and forth as if she were at a tennis match making her neck ache. “No, I don’t. I’m done talking. I want a lawyer.”
Warren frowned. “I don’t think a lawyer is going to help you out of this one.”
“Oh?”
Her pulse quickened. They think she did it?
“Nope, not this time.”
Zach pulled into a spot, set the brake and opened his door in one motion. Kyle had actually beaten him here.
His spirits rose a little. “Kyle.” He held out his hand.
His friend took it and they shook and hugged. “So tell me the story.”
“Maybe you should hear it from Grace.”
“And how do you know Grace?”
“Lors rented her garage apartment to her.”
“I’m still not getting the connection.”
“Always eager to bust my chops aren’t you?”
Kyle’s white smile brightened an otherwise bleak day. “You bet.”
Zach didn’t bother with the front desk. He knew Grace would be stewing in an interrogation room. Josh Warren stopped him before he entered.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To see Grace.”
“She’s asked for a lawyer.”
“And I have one for her.”
Josh eyed Kyle. “He can go in.”
Zach motioned for Kyle to see Grace. “I’ll bring you some coffee.”
“Thanks,” he said.
Zach filled two cups with coffee and located a bottle of water in small refrigerator in the detective’s room. Returning to where Grace was, Zach barged in.
Her gaze met his. She was scared. Taking the water she thanked him, but turned away, no hint that they’d almost slept together that night. He leaned against the wall, his coffee in hand.
Acting like he belonged there, he figured he had about five minutes before they kicked him out.
Kyle glanced his way. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.”
“With all due respect, I’d like to have a private conversation with my client.”
“We’re on the same side, Zach.”
“Still I have a right to see her in private.”
Zach frowned, knowing he was right. He nodded at Grace, who didn’t acknowledge him, then left.
Chapter Twenty Two
