'Why didn't you mention she called, when we were talking about her? She was murdered, Hunter!'
He laid his hands on her shoulders. 'What would it have brought to the equation? I never even spoke to the woman.'
She shrugged off his hands. Took a step away. 'You told me to get my proof, Hunter. I went there, to her trailer to look for it.'
'When?' he asked, her words, the ramifications of them hitting him like a sledgehammer.
'Last night. Late.'
He made a sound of disbelief. 'Do you know how stupid that was, Avery? A woman was murdered there. What if the killer had come back? Looking for the same thing you were. Or to relive the kill?'
He pressed his point, seeing that it was having its intended effect-scaring her. 'The percentage of killers who do just that is high, so high that police manuals suggest staking out a murder scene as an effective investigative strategy.'
She looked shaken, but didn't back down. 'I found your message. It's on her machine, okay? The woman saved it.'
He thought of Matt. His brother was already hot to pin Elaine St. Claire's murder on him. Why not this murder as well?
He looked at the ceiling. 'Shit.'
'Care how things look now, Hunter?'
He swung away from her, crossed to the cupboard. He selected a mug, then filled it. Took a sip. He glanced over his shoulder at her. 'Was there anything else you wanted to grill me about this morning?'
She opened her mouth as if to answer, then shut it, turned and started for the door.
He followed her. 'I take it you're not staying for coffee.'
'Go to hell.'
Careening out of control. Children screaming.
'Been there, done that.'
Her steps faltered. She stopped but didn't turn.
He stood directly behind her, so close he could hear her breathing, smell the fruity shampoo she used. He longed to touch her. To coax her back into his arms. Tell her everything, anything that would convince her to stay.
'And that's supposed to make me feel what?' she asked softly, voice vibrating with emotion. 'Sorry for you? You think there's anyone alive who hasn't experienced real pain? Personal tragedy?'
'I wasn't asking for your pity. I was being honest.'
'Well, bully for you.'
She pushed the screen door open. Stepped out into the alley. And ran smack-dab into Matt.
'Avery!' Matt caught her arm, steadying her. 'What are you doing here?'
'Ask your brother.' She glanced back at Hunter, standing at the door. 'Maybe he'll give you a straight answer.'
'I don't understand.'
She shook her head, stood on tiptoe and kissed Matt's cneek. 'Call me later, Matt. I've got to go.'
CHAPTER 41
Hunter watched Avery go. She had asked Matt to call her later. Why? To make certain he knew about the call on Trudy Pruitt's answering machine? Or because they were sleeping together?
'What was Avery doing here?'
Hunter faced his brother. 'Nothing kinky. Unfortunately.'
A muscle in his brother's jaw twitched. 'Prick.'
'So I've been called on more than one occasion.' One corner of his mouth lifted. 'This seems to be my morning for visitors. Lucky me.'
Matt moved his gaze over him, taking in the fact he wore nothing but a pair of shorts, that he had obviously not been out of bed long. 'What did she mean, about getting a straight answer out of you?'
Hunter leaned against the door frame, mug cradled between his palms. 'I haven't a clue.'
'Bullshit.'
He lifted the mug to his lips, sipped. 'Believe what you will. It's a free country.'
'How free?'
'I don't follow.'
'Maybe you're one of those Americans who believe your personal freedoms entitle you to trample on the freedoms of others? Maybe even take the law into your own hands? Or take a life?'
Hunter laughed. 'I'm a lawyer. I uphold the law.'
'Funny, that's what I do, too.'
'What can I do for you, Matt?'
'I'm here on official business, Hunter.'
'And here I'd thought you might be wanting a brotherly chat. I'm devastated.'
Matt ignored his sarcasm. 'May I come in?'
Wordlessly, he stepped away from the door. Matt entered the kitchen. He moved his gaze over the room, then brought it back to Hunter. 'Where were you night before last? Between nine and ten-thirty?'
The night Trudy Pruitt was murdered.
Hunter folded his arms across his chest. 'I was here. Working.'
'Alone?'
'With Sarah.'
'Sarah?'
Hunter nodded in the direction of the dog. 'And her pups.'
A look of annoyance passed over his brother's face. 'You seem to spend an awful lot of time here, alone.'
'I like it that way.'
'You hear about Trudy Pruitt?'
'Yeah.'
'You know the woman?'
'Nope. Not personally.'
'Not personally. What does that mean?'
'I'd heard of her. I knew who she was. Who her kids were.'
Hunter waited. This was where Matt would call Hunter a liar, challenge his story, throw up the message on the recorder. If he had checked Pruitt's answering machine.
And if he did, this was where Hunter would lawyer-up.
'Mind if I have a look around?'
Hunter laughed, the sound humorless. His brother and his crew of small-town constables had just flunked crime scene investigation 101. 'Yeah, I mind. You want a look around, you get a search warrant.'
'Expect it.'
'Want to tell me why you're so interested in me?'
'You'll know soon enough.'
'Right. You don't have dick. Go fish someplace else.'
Matt shook his head. 'For a lawyer, you're not very smart.'
'And for a cop, you're not very observant.'
'I don't have time for this.' Matt made a sound of disgust and turned toward the door. 'I'll see you when I've got that warrant.'
'You'd love to pin this on me, wouldn't you, Matt? For a lot of different reasons, all of which have nothing to do with guilt or innocence.'
His brother stopped. But didn't turn. 'Name one.'
