“That’s not possible.” But she couldn’t work up any strength in her voice. Roxy loved parties. It was Jazz who didn’t. Jazz spent enough time with people at the shop, she didn’t want to spend her non-working hours with them, too.
Roxy was different that way. She loved to socialize and hated being alone.
The party could have been at her place. It also brought this damn problem back full circle to her shop. “Roxy wouldn’t have done that to him.”
“No, she probably didn’t do it.” Morgan knew the next fact was going to be hard. “Dean said you were there, too.”
“I was?” She frowned at him. “I went to one party over the last six months. It was Perl’s birthday. But I don’t remember seeing Dean.” She tried to think back. “Then again, there were a lot of people there.”
“You might want to consider the good thing here,” Morgan said quietly. “Dean is alive, and that means the other one could possibly be alive, too.”
“Only Billy was killed?”
In a way, that made a hell of a lot of sense. Billy had been part of the problem here. So if someone had taken him out, they had provocation. “It would be really nice to think that sending out the images of the tattoos was a diversion,” she suggested. “Someone is throwing the cops off the trail. Trying to keep the focus away from themselves.”
Morgan shrugged. “I have no idea. But Dean is going to the cops now and fessing up. He’s hoping to get a complete pass on his involvement, but there’s no way to know how that will turn out.”
“At least he’s getting a clean start.” Jazz loved the sound of that. “Sounds like this will work out well for him.”
“It will if he has something to offer. He should be able to give them a lot more information than they had before. Hopefully enough to find Billy’s murderer.”
“Yeah.” Jazz leaned her head back, her mind consumed with the thought of what Dean had gone through. He certainly wasn’t the first to wake up with a tattoo on his body. Maybe the ass dragon was a bit much, but… “Does he remember anything about that night?”
“Not a whole lot.”
“Did he have sex with anyone?” At his sharp look, she shrugged. “I’m still wondering if a lover did this. If so, it was likely the same lover that Billy had.”
“And might be responsible for his murder, you mean?”
“It’s hard to not consider.”
Morgan pulled out his phone. “I’ll ask him.”
“I thought he was at the police station?”
“It’s almost eleven. He should be done.”
She hated what Dean had done, but a part of her was more worried what he’d do with his fresh start if he’d lost everyone in his life already. It would be hard to be alone. He’d feel like shit. In a complete about face, she blurted, “Invite him to lunch.”
“Ah, what?” Morgan, his phone in his hands, lifted his gaze to stare at her. “Remember that holding a gun to our heads part?”
“He was against a wall and trying to find a way out.” She leaned forward. “He was a victim too. I’m afraid of what he’ll do once he’s cleared the air with the cops. He might have no one left to turn to.”
“You’re too damn generous,” he bit off.
“No, it’s fallout. You two were friends, right?”
He nodded.
“Good friends?”
He gave a sharp nod.
“Until you left?”
His gaze narrowed.
“And then he turned to Billy.”
He closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping.
“Making him an easy target for your brother, who was likely already waiting in the wings.”
“Shit.”
*
How could she do that so easily? She could make him see another point of view, another side to an issue that he hadn’t considered. He had planned to never let Dean back into his house, never mind his life. Some things were just unforgivable.
Like pulling a gun and waving it at Jazz. She might be ready to forgive that – he sure as hell wasn’t.
“He never hurt us,” she said quietly. “And he never took the money.”
“He might have hurt us and he did take the money,” Morgan countered. “Just because he gave it back doesn’t make his actions forgivable.”
“Neither does anything he did make him unforgivable.”
He rolled his eyes. “Remember, you can’t save the world.”
“No, but maybe we can save a few of Billy’s victims.”
Shit. As an answer, it was hard to argue with.
“Fine. I’ll invite him over for coffee.” He glared at her. “Not lunch.”
She smiled at him knowingly, and he realized he’d already lost this battle.
“We might need to go to the cops as well.”
She lost her smile. “Why?”
“Your store. If it’s being used as a front for something much more sinister, you need to make sure they know that you didn’t have a hand in it and that you want this mess stopped.”
She glared at him. “I didn’t know anything about it.”
“Good. Keep up that outrage in your voice as it will help the police believe you.”
“No, it won’t,” she said. “They’ll think I had something to do with all of it, if for no other reason than I run a tattoo parlor.”
“Hey, where’s this coming from? It’s not like you’re doing anything illegal through the shop, so they have no reason to discriminate against you. You’ve had good dealings with the police since you’ve been open.”
“I know that, but it seems like the noose is tightening around me and I’ve done nothing,” she cried. “As if I’ve been set up.”
“And maybe you have been. But we don’t have to let them succeed.”
“And what am I to tell the police?”
“You tell them what you’ve told me,” he said in a soothing voice. “They don’t believe you’re guilty, but they need to know what you know. Tell them everything, including the fact that you believe you’re being framed, and trust that they will do their job.”
“Since when do you believe in the police so much?”
Morgan shrugged. “I’ve been on the other side way too much. I’ve seen the good and the bad when it comes to law enforcement, but I don’t have any reason to believe these ones are idiots. Shawn has been very forthcoming. I’m inclined to believe him.”
She sat back and stared at him. “So what, do you want to invite him for lunch, too?”
With a great shout of laughter, Morgan said, “No, not at all. I’m trying to get you to ease back your panic and trust them – him – a little more.”
“Right, well, just in case you’re wrong, don’t mind if there’s a little bit of panic snugged into a far corner ready to be pulled out if I need it.”
“Not required. But I’ll go and call Dean if you want me to?” She nodded. He got up and dialed Dean. There was no answer, so he left a message. “He’s not answering. He might still be with the police.”
“How long was the visit likely to be?”
“Not so long. I thought he’d be home by now.” He smiled at her. “Not to worry. We can take some time at the shop this afternoon if you want. Roxy was supposed to bring you some work, only she forgot. Instead, we could go there for a few hours. You’ll feel better and maybe you can pack up a few things to bring home to work on. Would that work?”
She smiled. “Yeah, that would be good.”