CHAPTER 8
Later that afternoon, there was another lovely round of questioning. This time, it happened in an actual interrogation room, and Brian wasn’t serving as my lawyer. He’d referred a colleague of his — a very sharp, very lawyerly woman who’d hardly let me speak a word. The cops seemed especially interested in the fact that I had a bruise on my face. I’d have to remember to thank Val for that later.
Some remnant of misguided loyalty made me tell them I’d gotten the bruise during one of my sleepwalking adventures. They obviously didn’t believe me, but then they were stuck on the idea that I’d exorcized what’s-his-name’s demon and gotten the bruise during a struggle.
My attorney promised me she’d arrange bail, despite O’Reilly’s dark suggestions that I wouldn’t get it.
Either way, I was spending the night in this lovely facility. At least in my jail cell, I had a cot and a toilet. A big step up from the containment center in Topeka. However, I sure hoped being locked up for the night wasn’t going to become a habit.
There was definitely a part of me that was scared. If the DA could make the charges stick, there was a very real possibility I’d go to prison. Maybe even for the rest of my life. But honestly, I had a hard time believing I’d get convicted.
I’m not some kind of Pollyanna who thinks that the innocent never get convicted. But I figured without a motive or a witness, even the most convincing circumstantial evidence wouldn’t be enough.
At around five in the afternoon, the guards came for me again and led me to the interrogation room. They left me there alone, in handcuffs, and my stomach felt a little queasy. Was this the part where they tried to beat a confession out of me? I really, really didn’t like that my lawyer wasn’t there, and that the guards had completely ignored me when I demanded they call her.
I had about ten minutes to stew and sweat before the door opened and Adam White came in.
I wouldn’t say he was the last person I expected to see, but I was definitely surprised to see him. I raised both eyebrows as he unlocked my handcuffs and took a seat across from me at the table.
“You’re a little out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you, Adam?”
He leaned back in his chair and stared at me. I didn’t like it, but I refused to squirm. When he still didn’t say anything, the pressure was too much and I had to break the silence.
“I’m not saying a word until my attorney’s present.”
He blinked as if surprised. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Like hell!”
He held up both hands. “I mean it, Morgan. This is an unofficial visit. Like you said, I’m out of my jurisdiction.”
“Then what do you want?” I sounded a bit snarly, and he hadn’t said anything to deserve it, but being in jail didn’t do good things to my overall attitude.
He folded his hands and put them on the table, leaning forward as if to keep it just between him and me.
Yeah, him, me, and whoever was watching and listening through the fake mirror behind his head.
“I want to know what’s going on,” he said, keeping his voice low but not quite whispering. His eyes locked on mine as if he could read everything he needed to know if he just gazed at me intently enough.
I leaned forward, mirroring his position. “When you find out, let me know.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and those caramel-colored eyes of his warmed with good humor. His expression was so friendly that for half a second I almost liked him. Then I reminded myself what he was, and the temporary insanity evaporated.
“Either get my attorney in here, or stop wasting my time,” I said, and watched that good humor leak away.
He sat back in his chair, ditching the whole conspiratorial act. “I know you didn’t do it, Morgan.”
I had to laugh at that one. “Yeah, I know that, too.”
He ignored the jibe. “I read up on your case, and about your 911 call the other night.”
“Why? What do you care? You’re a demon hunter, not a policeman.”
If Adam has a temper, I have yet to see it. A normal guy would have taken offense at the suggestion that he wasn’t a real policeman. Adam just ignored it.
“This is a demon-related crime. And you’re obviously being set up. That begs the question of why, don’t you think?”
It did, but I couldn’t come up with any logical explanation. I mean, my sunny disposition meant I had plenty of people who didn’t like me, and maybe even some honest-to-God enemies. But I couldn’t imagine anyone who hated me enough to try to frame me for murder.
“I’d like to help you, if you’d let me.”
I shook my head, confused. “Why the hell would you want to help me? I kill your kind for money, remember?” That made me sound more mercenary than I really was, but I guess I was still trying to get a rise out of him.
“And I hunt my kind when they break the law. I know you have issues with me being a demon, but we’re on the same side, whether you like it or not.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.” Hell, I didn’t even know why he was so convinced I wasn’t guilty. He certainly knew how I felt about demons.
He cocked his head at me. “You think I need an ulterior motive to try to help someone I know is being framed for a crime she didn’t commit?”
“When that someone is me, yeah.”
He leaned forward again, reaching across the table to grab my hand in a firm, warm grip. It shocked the hell out of me, and of course I tried to pull away. Fat lot of good it did me. He clasped my hand between both of his.
“I’m trying to be your friend. I don’t hold your profession against you, and I think you are a very honorable woman. That’s why I came to you Monday to help with Dominic.”
If I didn’t suspect Dominic had been more than a friend to him, I might have thought he was coming on to me a bit. There was something in his eyes, a kind of softness, I’d never seen in him before. But I’d have understood a come-on better than this sudden bid for friendship.
“Let go of my hand, Adam.”
He did, but he didn’t lose that intimate look in his eyes. “I think you’re in trouble. And I think you need help. And I think you’re too stubborn to ask for it.”
I figured he was right on one and three, but the jury was still out on two. And if it did turn out I needed help, Adam wouldn’t be the one I’d turn to.
“It’s very nice of you to try to rescue the damsel in distress,” I told him. I tried not to be overly sarcastic, but I think I failed because he lost the bedroom eyes, or whatever it was he’d been giving me. “I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself just fine.”
The look he gave me then wasn’t quite so friendly. “We’ll see.” He pushed his chair back from the table and grabbed the handcuffs. I wasn’t stupid enough to resist, so I passively held out my wrists to him while trying to read the look on his face.
“You know, Adam, that sounded suspiciously like a threat.”
The cuffs closed around my wrists. He met my eyes for a moment, and I couldn’t read a thing. He’d wiped his face clean of all expression. That blankness disturbed me more than anything else I could have seen, and I dropped my gaze.
He left without another word, and the guards took me back to my cell.
When I woke up in that blinding white room again, I was kind of shocked. I hadn’t thought I’d sleep a wink in that jail cell. It wasn’t exactly the Hilton, and I wasn’t what you’d call relaxed.
I blinked a couple of times, and Lugh was standing in front of me. He’d ditched the bomber jacket and wore a skintight black T-shirt instead. The rest of the outfit looked about the same as last time. The clingy shirt showed off a broad, powerful chest tapering into a lean waist that I’d bet anything featured a six-pack in the ab area.
I considered throwing a temper tantrum because this was so not what I needed right now. If I was actually getting some real, honest-to-God sleep, I wanted it to be peaceful like it’s supposed to be. I didn’t want to have a chat with my own personal demon.