The Rogue Reviewer (Primrose, Minnesota Book 3) (3 page)

Detective Stewart cleared his throat. “No
ma’am, I’m afraid it will have to be replaced.”

“Nobody’s replacing anything yet.” Mace
tossed her an irritating stare. “CSI will need a couple days at
least to process this butcher shop.”

“By all means, Detective,” she drawled,
“don’t hold back on my account. After all, I do have to live here
after the fact.”

“Geezus, Turner,” Detective Stewart mumbled
before he ran a hand over the top of his head while he glanced at
his partner and then back at her and Marnie. “You’ll have to excuse
him, ladies, he’s not feeling all that great at the moment.”

Dara narrowed her eyes. “I think I have some
peppermint candies in my purse.”

“Peppermint?”

She nodded. “To soothe your stomach. You look
positively green.”

One corner of his lip twitched and for a
moment she thought he might have actually released another of those
dazzling smiles. Unfortunately, she realized she’d hallucinated
when he spoke. “Do you recognize the knife?”

“It’s mine.”

“Where is it normally stored?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Drawer?”

“No, in the butcher block on the
cabinet.”

“Any idea how it ended up in the victim’s
possession?”

“Oh geez, I don’t know, Detective Turner.
Maybe because she’s involved in a crime?”

In the following seconds of pained silence,
she waited for him to scold her for her response. Instead, the
corner of his lip twitched a second time before he spoke.

“Would you two be willing to come down to the
station tonight and give your statements?”

Dara glanced at Marnie, almost irritated that
her best friend’s smirk indicated she appeared to be entertained by
the whole conversation. Then again, Mace’s uneasiness around the
corpse did provide a sick sort of comic relief.

“Sure,” she said finally.

Marnie pulled her cell phone from her pocket
and dialed.

Both eyebrows met in the middle of his
forehead. “Who’s she calling?”

Dara mentally poked her fingers in her ears
and wiggled them while she stuck out her tongue. “Our
attorney.”

“Maybe you misunderstood. Neither of you are
under arrest.”

She let a smug smile split her lips. “I write
murder for a living, Detective. I have an attorney on
retainer.”

Detective Stewart coughed and lowered his
head.

“Fine.” Mace sighed hard. “We’ll expect you
downtown in thirty minutes.”

“Make it forty-five. My attorney’s probably
already in bed. She’ll need the extra fifteen minutes to convince
herself to be halfway civil.”

“Oh damn,” Detective Stewart mumbled.

Mace appeared to be appeased. “Done. Do you
have somewhere else to stay? You can’t stay here.”

Dara studied his handsome chiseled jaw for a
moment, tempted to rub her cheek against the five o’clock shadow
there while she entertained the notion to argue. Wonder what he’d
say if she refused to leave. Her mind suddenly flashed back to the
last time she attempted to challenge him and she’d ended up thrown
over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She quickly nudged that
notion right out of her head; this time he’d probably lock her up
and besides, she now stood smack dab in the middle of a crime
scene.
Go figure
.

“Dara?” he prompted.

“Of course. I’ll stay with Marnie.”

“I’ll need the address.”

“Why? You have my cell phone number.”

“Technicality. Address.”

Too rattled to argue, she spouted Marnie’s
address.

“Thank you.” His mesmerizing blue eyes seemed
to glow. “I’ll see you shortly.”

“The building super is out front,” Jackson
said, gesturing at the door.

Satisfied that Dara would follow
instructions, Mace nodded and followed Jackson out the door. Just
around the corner, a short, balding man stood next to a uniformed
officer.

Mace extended a hand. “Detective Mace Turner.
This is my partner, Detective Jackson Stewart.”

“Griffin Owens,” the man answered as he
accepted the handshake.

“As you probably know by now, there was some
excitement in Miss Hamilton’s unit this evening.”

The super squinted behind his thick glasses.
“Is Dara hurt?”

“No, fortunately she’s unharmed. A little
shaken, but not injured.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Do you know her personally, Mr. Owens?”

“Dara’s been a tenant at Cascade Glen for
some time. I simply know her in the capacity of my job.”

“Do you happen to know if the lock on her
door is the original?”

“As far as I know, it’s the original. I
haven’t been asked to change it.”

“Are all the locks the same in the
community?”

“To my knowledge, yes. Even when we replace a
lock, we use the same make and model as the first.”

“Do you have copies of keys to any of the
units?”

“No. The Homeowner’s Association keeps the
only other copy.”

“What is the protocol when a tenant locks
himself out?”

“The Association takes care of that.”

“What type of maintenance do you provide for
the complex?”

“Just about anything – plumbing, electrical
work, just typical handyman work.”

“Do you have any locksmith skill or
experience?”

“No sir, none at all. I don’t even install
new locks when they need to be replaced.”

“Where were you tonight from around six
o’clock p.m. until the sirens?”

“At the homeowners’ association party. Some
of the owners and all the board members were there too.”

“Can you provide names of everyone there?”
Jackson said, making more notes.

“Be glad to.”

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Owens.” Mace
handed him a card. “Here are my numbers. If you think of anything
that might help, give me a call.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mace watched him almost run from the area,
avoiding contact with anyone else on the way. “Strange guy.”

“Affirmative.” Jackson pocketed his notebook.
“See anybody else that catches your eye?”

“Nah. Just the normal curious neighbors –
nobody suspicious.” He moved his gaze to the numerous white vans
with large numbers painted on the side. “Media’s thick. We’ll look
back at the footage tomorrow. Let’s head to the station.”

***

He hated to see her so distraught, but he
knew her feelings would change once she realized the corpse
symbolized his love for her. Dara was an incredibly intelligent
woman; it wouldn’t take long for her to understand this murder was
extremely necessary and long overdue.

He eased back into the shadows and balled his
fists while he watched the detectives leave the scene. The arrogant
asses had no reason to believe she had anything to do with this
sacrifice. Dara was an innocent who desired nothing short of utmost
respect.

***

As Dara led the way down the hallway of the
Primrose Municipal Building and toward the suite that housed the
police department, she could’ve sworn both her and Marnie’s high
heels poked holes through the tiles of the probably extremely
unsterile floors.

“Marnie, did you wake her?”

“No.”

“No? Alex always goes to sleep early the
night before a court appearance. Maybe she was reading over her
briefs.”

“Um, Dara, I don’t think it was her briefs
she concentrated on. I’m — mmm umph!”

She stopped abruptly and wobbled when
Marnie’s body barreled into hers. She spun around and reached to
steady her friend. “Wait, what?”

Marnie rubbed her nose. “I said, I’m pretty
sure she had company.”

“Who?”

“I didn’t recognize his voice.”

“A
man
answered Alex’s phone?”

“Swear. And she was pissed.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have called.”

“Not at us! Because he answered her
phone.”

“Well, she better hurry. I need something to
take my mind off this mess.”

Marnie raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine, thank
you for asking.”

“Sorry.” She managed half a smile. “Next time
I’ll tap my brakes first.”

Her friend nudged her to start walking. “I’m
dying to hear her explanation.”

“Marnie,” she groaned, “find another word
other than
dying.
”

Although she thought she heard Marnie release
a giggle, she huffed with each step as they made their way past
several benches and finally stood in front of a sliding glass
window. She peered through the glass at an empty chair and then
glanced back over her shoulder at her friend. “There’s no one
inside.”

Marnie frowned. “Should we knock?”

She shrugged and then spotted a rectangular
white button beside the window. She gave it a push and several
seconds later, a man appeared behind the glass.

“State your business.”

Dara stared open-mouthed at the portly man in
blue who slid open the window and barked the order. Perhaps someone
needed some sleep.

“Um, Detective Turner is expecting us.”

She wrinkled her nose at the smell of
incredibly over-brewed coffee that floated out the window while he
shuffled several stacks of paper and lifted a mug to his mouth.

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” he said
finally, still not pleasant. “Take a seat.”

She flinched when the window slammed closed.
“Protect and serve, my a—”

“Mine too.” Marnie grabbed her elbow and led
her to a bench.

Dara wrinkled her nose again. “Nuh-uh. Don’t
sit there. Way too many germs.”

She and Marnie both leaned back against the
tiled wall – not that it wasn’t also contaminated, but she managed
to push that worry to the side. Her toe tap-danced as they
continued to wait.

“Relax, Dara, we’ll be out of here in no
time. Detective Turner just needs the facts so he can figure out
who is responsible for the uh ... you know, the
surprise
in
your living room.”

“The corpse, Marnie. A dead body. And not
just any deceased person, the woman who published a scathing review
of a novel that I happened to write.” She snorted. “No, he wants a
confession.”

“Your artistic imagination truly impresses
me,” her best friend drawled. “My sixth graders would eat this
up.”

“Being arrested for murder?”

“No! Being questioned by a cop.”

Dara swallowed hard and attempted to distract
her nerves with humor. “You should’ve planned a field trip,” she
mumbled.

“Where the heck is Alex?”

“Late, as usual.” She sighed. “If I’m not
supposed to panic, why do I need a lawyer?”

“Humor her. She lives for this stuff.”

Dara glanced at the set of double doors next
to the window, willing them to open so she could put this nightmare
behind her. That, and catch a glimpse of the sexy detective. She
frowned. The same man who quite possibly thought her guilty of
murder. Cripes, where was Alex?

A sharp jab in the ribs pulled her attention
back to Marnie. “This is not how I pictured this place.”

“This is just the waiting area. The prisoners
are brought in and booked through a back door. The detectives’
offices and interrogation rooms are just through the doors.”

Marnie’s brow wrinkled. “Did you forget to
tell me you’ve been arrested?”

“No.” Dara smirked. “Remember
Arresting
Hearts
?”

“Do I ever. That cop was so hot my fingers
sweat every time I turned a page!”

“I did some research here.”

“Well actually, Detective Too-Cool would make
a perfect romance hero.”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Yeah, she did. Detective Mace Turner was
exactly the type of man romance novels embraced. And although she
wanted to convince herself otherwise, his six foot, four inch
stature coupled with his deep, mysteriously blue eyes proved the
man had sex appeal in spades.

“So, Dara.” Marnie studied her nails. “I’m
thinking you know Detective Turner outside his professional
capacity.”

“I do.” She sighed. No sense ignoring the
obvious. “I told you, I met him when Bri consulted on one of his
cases.”

Marnie’s eyes widened. “
That
Detective
Turner is
this
Detective Turner? Oh geez! Why didn’t you say
something?”

“I did. This is not a big deal. Especially
since he’s only interested in the you-know-what in my condo.”

“Uh-huh.
This
Detective Turner you
call
Mace
. He’s not after your corpse, Dara.”

She rested her head back against the germy
wall, having only seconds to worry about what might actually crawl
into her hair before footsteps distracted her.

“Dara!”

She raised her head, relieved to see a tiny
redhead barrel down the hallway and envelope her into a tight
hug.

“Thank God you’re okay!”

“I’m fine, Bri.” She extracted herself from
the other woman’s grip and smirked as she took in her friend’s
short shorts and barely there bra top – an outfit she knew Bri only
wore for undercover work. “Did you come straight off the pole?”

“Jake’s going to blow a gasket.” Bri’s cheeks
reddened. “I told him I’d cover up before I came down here but I
couldn’t wait.” She grabbed Marnie’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine too. Thanks, Bri.”

“I must’ve missed a heck of a DRAMA meeting.
What happened?”

Dara sighed. “You might not believe it when
you hear it.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, but hold on to what’s left of your
shorts.”

After the few minutes it took for Dara to
relay the night’s events, Bri’s eyes were as wide as saucers and
her mouth hung open. “You guys really discussed the, uh, well,
method?
” Dara didn’t miss the goosebumps now decorating her
friend’s arms.

“Mine was the best,” Marnie grumbled.

Bri glanced at Marnie and blinked several
times in succession, a trait Dara knew she used to disguise extreme
shock. “Which idea was yours?”