“Where’s Alanna Morgan?” he demanded, so close he could feel Henry’s disgusting breath on his neck. “If I have to repeat my question, it won’t matter that there’s a cop here.”
“Colter...” Chief Hernandez’s voice was full of warning, but also worry.
She’d known him since he moved here. He’d even helped her break up a bar fight once when her backup was slow and his leg was in a cooperative mood. For the most part, they got along. But she’d never heard this tone from him. And he knew if he had to make good on his threat, she’d have to do her duty and protect the guy in cuffs.
But he wasn’t going to let Henry hide behind an arrest now. “Tell me,” he growled.
Henry’s face went pale as his gaze darted to Kensie. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Colter,” the chief snapped before he could respond. She yanked Henry back a few steps and he went willingly with her. Then her backup was in the room, a couple of cops Colter probably could have taken down in better days, but not now.
“Colter.” Kensie’s softer voice came from behind him.
He turned and realized she’d gotten to her feet. She sounded and looked terrible, with blue and purple streaks all the way across the front of her throat. But her balance was steady and her eyes were clear.
“Let me do this,” she croaked.
“Everyone just calm down,” the chief said as the other officers stood in front of Kensie, blocking Henry. “Jennings, give me your fingerprint kit.”
“Hey, he attacked me,” Henry shouted, starting to struggle.
“And you broke into this hotel room and attacked the occupant,” the chief replied calmly as she yanked her arm upward, pulling his cuffed hands up, too.
Henry yelped and then Jennings was pressing his finger into a machine the size of a cell phone as the other officer kept his gaze locked on Colter and his hand locked over his pistol.
“This is pretty cool, huh?” Jennings asked, excitement in his flushed cheeks and too-high tone. “Pretty much only the FBI has these, but we got a grant after this serial case a few years ago and...oh.”
“What?” the chief asked as Jennings stared at the machine.
He turned it toward her and she shook her head. “Guess we know why you didn’t want us to take your prints, now, don’t we, Manny Henderson?”
Henry/Manny let out a string of curses, then insisted, “I didn’t kill her.”
At his words, Kensie whimpered and Colter spun, grabbing her as she swayed.
But she pushed him off, tears streaming down her cheeks as she rushed forward. She leaned around the officer who stood in her way, croaking, “You killed my sister?”
“Look, I didn’t even know Shoshana had a sister,” Henry said. “But I didn’t kill her. Someone framed me, okay? I ran because someone framed me.”
“What?” Kensie and Colter asked together.
Chief Hernandez sighed loudly. “Manny Henderson here skipped town in Kansas a decade ago after murdering Shoshana Lewis.”
“I didn’t kill her!” Manny shouted.
Ignoring him, the chief continued, “Apparently he’s been hiding out here ever since.”
Kensie dropped to the floor so fast Colter didn’t have time to move. He realized belatedly that it was a semicontrolled fall as she sat and buried her head in her hands.
“He didn’t come after me because of Alanna,” she whispered.
“Who the heck is Alanna?” Henry snapped.
From the floor, Kensie looked up at Colter and he knelt closer, ignoring the way his knee protested. “He thought I knew about the murder in Kansas. When I said I was from the Midwest...” A sob burst out, then she turned her gaze on Henry. “I was wrong. He looked so much like the guy I remember, but he had nothing to do with Alanna’s kidnapping.”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone!” Henry yelled. “And I didn’t kill anyone, either. I was—”
“Get him out of here,” Chief Hernandez demanded, pushing Henry toward Jennings, then stepping closer to Kensie.
“I’m so sorry,” she told Kensie. “But I think you’re right. You stumbled onto a fugitive. And I know I could have been more patient with you before, but the FBI really did work hard when they came up here. I don’t think the note was real.”
“I’ve been chasing a ghost,” Kensie whispered, staring into the space where Henry had been.
“I think it’s time you go home,” the chief said.
A jolt of dismay shot through Colter as Kensie’s defeated voice agreed. “I think you’re right.”
Chapter Sixteen
It was time to go home.
The very idea made Kensie want to curl up in a ball and weep. But she just gritted her teeth harder, until her jaw and her head hurt.
“Are you in pain?”
Blinking moisture away, Kensie looked up at the nurse checking her vitals. “No,” she croaked, even though speaking made her throat feel like she’d shoved sandpaper down there and was scrubbing as hard as possible. Then again, not speaking didn’t feel much better.
Apparently, her throat was so swollen the doctors had considered putting a tube in to help her breathe. But she’d fought them on it until they’d agreed to keep her under observation and on some kind of intravenous medicine for a while.
For the past few hours, she’d been here alone. Colter and Rebel had come with her in the ambulance, but they wouldn’t let the dog in the hospital no matter how much Colter argued. So finally he’d agreed to go to the police station and give his statement while doctors checked her out.
“You’re doing good, hon,” the nurse said, patting her arm and leaving the room.
Once she was gone, Kensie stared blankly into the empty room, still feeling blindsided. Henry Rollings’s claims that he hadn’t killed the woman in Kansas had been forced and full of denial. His confusion about her sister had sounded so real.
Even though he was a killer, Kensie believed him when he said he
