“You too.” She muttered rolling back under the covers.
She had no idea if it was minutes or hours later when the incessant ringing of the doorbell woke her. Grumbling, she stumbled out of bed, keyed in the alarm code, and grabbed her robe before stomping to the front door.
Slinging it open, she snarled. “What?”
“Lieutenant Rayburn?”
The blonde woman looked to be wound tighter than a Wall Street trader trying to sell plummeting stocks.
“That’s me. If you’re selling, we’re not buying. If you need a donation, I’ll give you a tip instead. Don’t wake people up when you’re asking for mone—”
“No, I need you to come with me.” The woman pulled out a flat black leather billfold and flipped it open.
Jo snorted. “FBI. Figures.” She turned back into the house.
“Lieutenant? I need you to come to the station with me now.”
“Not happening. I’m getting dressed first. No way am I parading around down there in my dang robe.” Jo swung around, making the woman jump back so as not to run into Jo. “If you have a problem with me getting dressed, arrest me.”
Chapter 3
She’d been here for hours. The drab puke green walls with pock marks in them were monotonous and boring to look at, so she turned her attention to the ceiling tiles. Two pencils were embedded in the tile above her head while stains marred a few others. Three had corners missing. Reaching the end of her interest in the ceiling, she crossed her arms on the metal table and tried to find a comfortable position in the metal chair. At least she wasn’t handcuffed.
Jo could feel the oozing of time as it slowly ticked by with nothing to do. She couldn’t believe she was sitting in her own Interrogation Room. It was galling. And why was she even here? FBI Barbie hadn’t told her a thing, just pushed her toward Officer Fife, and the rookie had brought Jo here.
She thought back to the last week and couldn’t place anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was the hate crime trio from this morning. But she’d left all of them breathing, and Sullivan had done the paperwork. It couldn’t be the pimp incident, nor Ned getting shot.
A hand slapped down next to her but she didn’t flinch. Instead, her brow lowered in irritation. She had dealt with a lot scarier guys than this rookie. Scrubbing her hand over her face, she stifled a growl as the rookie crowded her again. She needed coffee to deal with this crap. Especially if she was expected not to curse them all out. Freaking swear jar would end up paying for her wedding to Rhys.
“You gonna tell me why I’m here, Barney?” So shoot her. With no coffee and being held with no one telling her anything made her beyond cranky. She was bordering on pissed off.
“You’re here because we have questions.” He puffed out his chest as if he needed to prove he was in charge.
“Really?” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable as she narrowed her eyes on him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. Combined with the sweat on his temple and the slight flutter of his eyelids, it all added up to nerves. “Yes.”
She stifled a smile. No sense in alerting her prey she was toying with him. Like a cat with a mouse. The boredom retreated now that she had a game. “What questions?”
“Excuse me?” He squinted at her as if he couldn’t quite figure out why she was cooperating now.
“You said you all had questions,” she motioned to him and the overdone mirror behind him. “So what are they? Or is it like twenty questions? If so, are you smaller than a breadbox . . . ”
“This is no joking matter.”
“Oh? Seems like it, since they sent their pinch hitter in here to interrogate me. You realize I was teething on crime scene reports before you were a speck in your daddy’s eye.”
His face reddened, and he sputtered. “You—no—”
“I’m getting bored. If you’re not going to at least pretend you know how to interrogate a suspect then you need to run along back to traffic duty.” Jo dropped her head on top of her crossed arms.
“If you don’t give me something to prove where you were after you left the hospital, I’ll throw every book I can muster at you, including impeding an investigation.” His yelled statement amused her.
To cover the smile that wanted to spread across her face, she stretched her arms over her head and yawned. No way would she give him an answer now even if her life depended on it. Which it didn’t. Of every suspect she’d ever questioned with an alibi of ‘I was at home’ rarely could provide proof. Luckily, with their security, cameras would have tagged Rhys’s car pulling into the garage and when the alarm was turned off and back on. So she had an airtight alibi, as neither of them had left the house until Rhys had gone to work.
Jo checked her nails. “Really, every book?”
The rookie eyed her. “Just because you’re a Rayburn does not mean you get to slide.” His derision set Jo’s teeth on edge.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, cold flowed into her veins. He could yell and scream at her, but no one talked about her family. The rookie took a step back, bumping into the table and jumping at the contact as if he’d been goosed by Satan himself.
“You’re prejudiced to my name? Good to know.” Pissed that she was sitting here wasting her time, she narrowed her gaze and lifted her lip in a facsimile of a smile. “So all those books you’re tossing my way, is one of them going to be the Bible? Because gotta say, I might have to arrest you for religious persecution or something if you do that.”
He growled. “This is serious, Rayburn.”
“Jesus, I need coffee before I rip your gun from its holster and beat you with
