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Chapter Thirty-Nine

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"Hey, Liam." I weaved through the desks in the police station to reach him. After some quick texting with Jax, she confirmed that he had gone to work for a few hours.

He was dressed similarly to Gray in a T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts. Gray's cargo shorts had been emptied of our break-in paraphernalia before entering the police station, sticking with our theme of the day of “better safe than sorry.” At Gray’s insistence, we also took twenty minutes to ice my foot since I had been using it so much today.

"Hello. What are you two doing here?" Leeriness wavered in Liam’s voice. This was the first time we’d spoken since last night.

"Oh, we just have a few questions for you if you have a minute.” I gave him my sweetest smile.

"Sure, have a seat, or do we need some privacy?" Liam asked.

"Privacy, please," Gray said. He clearly hadn’t forgiven Liam. His tone and demeanor were gruff.

Gray and I exchanged a look. We were on touchy ground as to what would come next. Gray wanted to call in an anonymous tip, but I was insistent that my two semesters of pre-law would be enough to keep us out of trouble. Liam led us to the room he’d housed me in just two days prior. It felt like a lifetime ago even though I still had the marks on my face as a reminder.

"Liam, first I have a couple of questions." I took a seat along with a deep breath and started in. "Did you search Ben's place?"

“Regan, he wasn’t actually a suspect. I tried explaining that.”

“Maybe he should be. Maybe you have put your ‘acquaintance’ before your job.” I threw back the description Liam had originally given me about their relationship. I stopped myself from using air quotes.

"What are you saying?" Liam asked.

"What exactly was Anya stabbed with?" Gray asked, preventing me from answering.

"We’re not sure. The wounds were not deep, so the coroner thinks the weapon was no more than five or six inches long. The wounds were fatal because of the sheer number, and one nicked an artery around the heart. Without immediately help, she bled out. Again, why?"

"Let's play a game called ‘hypothetical,’" I said. I folded my hands together in my lap.

"Is this for one of your stories? I thought you were a travel writer," Liam asked.

Why didn't I think of that?

"It is. I'm thinking of branching out. This whole thing with Anya being killed has gotten my imagination whirling." I spun my finger in the air. I pulled a notebook and pen from my purse, hoping to look more official in my research.

"Could the murder weapon have been a pen? Like one of the nice old-fashioned ones?"

"I'll ask the M.E., but I don't see why not. The wounds would fit the shape. They were cylindrical, not flat."

I glanced at Gray. He leaned back in his chair, letting me take the lead. His aura was relaxed, like any good fiancé who was just spending a day with his gal. A slight nod let me know to keep going.

"Well . . . Um. . . So, in my book, I thought that it would be the boyfriend. His name is . . . B—rad . . . and he hides the murder weapon under his sink."

"Brad?" Liam asked.

"Yes, Brad." I mentally slapped myself. I was supposed to be creative, but the only name that came to mind was Ben. I barely stopped myself from using it. Even though Liam knew who I was taking about, I didn’t actually want to say his name.

"Under his sink?"

"Yes. I don't know if you have ever seen the fake security cans? They look like bug spray or cans of spray paint, but are actually hollow? Or the rocks for your keys?"

"I believe I may know what you are referring to." Liam’s demeanor had changed since we started talking about “Brad.”

"Well . . . in my book . . . Brad stabs his . . . girlfriend. . . her name isn’t important.” I waved my hand in front of me like I was shooing a fly. “. . . With an old-fashioned pen from a set. He then hides it under the sink in one of those cans, so the police can't find it."

"And, in your book, does a nosy friend find it in an illegal breaking and entering to search his apartment?"

"Um, no. That sounds like a terrible idea. The police would obviously find it when searching the killer’s place. Duh."

"To search this place, I would need probable cause to get the warrant," Liam said.

"Like?" I asked.

"Like an anonymous tip . . ." Gray said, letting the sentence drop.

"Like an anonymous tip. Yes," Liam agreed.

"Well, Liam, it’s been a pleasure. Hope that works out for you. We must go.  Thanks." I grabbed my purse, notebook, and pen, and pushed the chair back, but Liam stopped me by reaching across the table.

“What?” I asked.

“You need to understand what I was saying yesterday.”

“Why?”

“Because Jax is your best friend and I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“I’ll let it drop and forget about it, but you have to answer one thing honestly.”

“Yes,” Liam said. He still held my arm, but the hold wasn’t strong.

“Did you condone Ben breaking into Peter’s?”

“I swear. I didn’t know Ben was going to do that. Ben works . . . differently.”

“But, you talked to him when we left here, didn’t you?”

“That’s two questions.” Liam released his hold on me and leaned back in his chair.

“Semantics. Plus, I don’t know if you answered the first question honestly. Here’s your chance.”

“I did seek him out to interrogate him on what happened.”

“He admitted it to you? That he was there?” I glanced at Gray, both of our faces registering our surprise.

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you arrest him?”

“An order came down from higher up to drop the matter.” Liam shrugged in a ‘what was I to do’ manner.

“And you did?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.” This time I walked away and didn’t turn back when he called my name.

Gray was right behind me as I scurried out of the room, but I could still feel Liam’s eyes burning a hole in my back.