She arched a brow and whistled
“He didn’t accept money for it, did he?” Kellan asked, suppressing the urge to laugh.
She stopped whistling and laughed. “Damn it, and here I was thinking I was special.”
“You are. He only gives that out to a handful of people,” Kellan said sourly. “So you got one of Clive’s miracle drinks and he drove you home…what time you think that was?”
She shrugged. “He closes around eleven and it was all clean and tidy before he even interrupted my nice little daydreams. Probably quarter after, maybe eleven-twenty. I guess I got home a little before midnight,” she said, nodding toward the sparkling river view just beyond the window over Kellan’s shoulder. “We talked on the porch, while he made sure I drank my ‘goodnight cocktail’ as he called it.” She slid Kellan a look and said, “He wouldn’t let me drink it until we got here, and I can understand why. I had no sooner gone upstairs and gotten into my jammies than I started feeling sleepy. Don’t know what he puts in that thing, but it packs a punch. And I haven’t slept that soundly in years.”
Kellan felt the knot in his belly loosening. “So basically, you were at Clive’s all evening. I’m sure other people besides him saw you?” he asked, leaning back and staring at her face. Her brows arched higher as she tilted her head, studying him.
“Yes, I’m sure plenty of people did.” Drawing her knees up to her chest, she rested that elfin chin on them and pinned him with a direct stare, one that was totally at odds with her whimsical looks, and that lazy, almost childish pose. “So, tell me, exactly what is it you’re worried I did last night?”
“Now you need to be advised that I haven’t read you your rights. You’re not under arrest, and I don’t suspect you of any crimes. However, some people probably do.”
Across the room, Grady closed his eyes and just shook his head.
Darci nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said softly. “What crime exactly?”
Setting his notebook aside, he leaned forward and said, “Sometime last evening, somebody Carrie Forrest knew was inside her house. They had coffee and she got out cookies, which were left untouched in the sitting room.” Kellan stood up and crossed the room, kneeling in front of Darci, not touching her, just watching her face as he finished. “They went upstairs to her studio and then this person killed Carrie.”
Darci’s mouth dropped open.
She blinked.
Her legs slid down and she shifted on the chair, reaching up to rub a fist across her chest. “What?” she repeated in a soft, weak voice. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Carrie is dead,” Kellan said levelly. “She was murdered.”
Darci fell back against the chair as though all the energy had drained out of her. The light in her vibrant green eyes dimmed and she swallowed. “You think I could have done it,” she murmured, still staring at him.
Yes, one of the most open women he had ever met. She didn’t hide a damn thing. Kellan replied as honestly as he could. “I don’t think you could have done it. But you are a suspect. Carrie liked to snipe at you, Darci. She did her damnedest to cause you trouble, and you never backed down, especially this last time,” he said softly.
In the corner, Grady lifted his eyes to the sky, shaking his head.
“I have reason to dislike her,” Darci said coldly. “I don’t have reason to hate her. I don’t have reason to want her dead.”
“Some people might think, after what has happened between you, that you would have every reason to want just that,” Kellan said. “She was out to ruin you. Ruin your career.”
“Get serious,” Darci said, rolling her eyes. “Hatred requires too much energy. And frankly, she’s not worth it.” Then she paled. “Oh, man. That sounds terrible. She’s dead, and…oh, man.” She tugged a gold chain from underneath her shirt and worried the charm on it with her fingers, mumbling under her breath. “I didn’t like the lady, but my mother didn’t raise me to speak ill of the dead. That was mean of me.”
Kellan closed his eyes and shook his head. This woman was…unusual. To say the least.
“Ah, I think under the circumstances, your mother would understand,” Kellan said softly.
She flashed him a wry grin, her eyes sparkling brightly through the tears. “Ummm, you don’t know Mama,” she said, her voice thick. “Speaking ill of the dead is just something you don’t do. Even of Hitler.”
Kellan waited until she took a shuddering breath and her eyes met his once more. “I need you to come down to the station. I need a statement,” he said softly.
Her lashes lowered and she sighed, her slim, sleekly muscled shoulders rising and falling beneath the lacy straps of her nightie. “My life seems to be going to hell in a handbasket,” she murmured.
Kellan couldn’t help it. “Well, it’s a vast improvement over the path Carrie’s life took last night,” he said.
Her eyes widened. Then she slowly agreed, “Well, you do have a point. Although Carrie chose her path a very long time ago.”
Well, he might believe she wasn’t a killer, Darci thought sourly as she ran her wet fingers through her short black hair. She made a face in the mirror. “It’s still not keeping me from having to go down and make a statement,” she muttered.
Part of her felt guilty.
Carrie was dead. Apparently pretty brutally. Kellan wouldn’t say anything, but she was really good at picking up vibes. And she sensed a terrible rage within him. A terrible rage.
Maybe she was wrong, she thought as she tugged her nightshirt off and searched for a bra in the dresser drawer. Spying one, she tugged it out and pulled it on, then jerked open her closet and grabbed the first shirt she could find-a waist-length, black sleeveless vest-styled shirt. She stuck her arms in it, buttoned it up and stuck her feet into a black pair of thongs.
Maybe any unjustified death angered him. It would her. Hearing about anybody dying before their time made her mad.
But…still. She couldn’t help but think something about this was off. Or maybe she was just letting her emotions toward Carrie affect her. Hell, she thought as she grabbed her purse and keys from the table beside her door and jogged down the steps, she’d been letting her animosity toward Carrie skew her thinking for months.
Why should this change anything?
Except she had decided earlier that she was going to get over this. She wasn’t going to let Carrie and Co. matter anymore.
Meeting Kellan at the bottom of the stairs, she looked into his eyes-soft, warm, hazel eyes. He had taken his glasses off. He had looked awfully good with them on, like a sexy scholar.
Of course, he looked good without them too.
He just looked damned good.
She just loved his eyes. She’d love to photograph his eyes, those wide-spaced, heavily lashed, warm, hazel eyes.
Was it her imagination or did they look just a little warmer as he stared at her?
“Let’s get this over with,” she said quietly.
Her attorney of record wasn’t exactly equipped to defend her against a murder charge, but Darci wasn’t a fool. As she rode in the back of Kellan’s cruiser, she pulled out her cell phone and called Brittany Daugherty.
“Darci, I was just getting ready to come over. I don’t know if you’ve heard anything but-”
“Britt, I’m in the Sheriff’s car, riding over to the station,” she interrupted. “I think it would be a good idea for you to meet me down there.”
“Oh, shit. I was afraid this would happen. Don’t say anything, don’t tell them anything-”
“I already have told them some stuff, but it was just where I was last night. I was at Clive’s all evening. But they want to take my statement, ask some official questions,” she said. As she spoke, she glanced up and met Kellan’s glance in the rearview mirror.
He was studying her with an arched brow.
She flushed and licked her lips and dragged her gaze away, but she could still feel him staring at her.
“I’d like you to meet me there, Britt,” she said, lowering her voice. “The whole damn town knows that Carrie and I had some bad history between us. And half of the town is still convinced she was a saint…”
