Page 41 of Tactical Revival

“No.” He glares at me. “She’d asked for a ride home, and I agreed. Where is this going?” he demands, looking from us to the sheriff.

Is he so volatile because he knows Margot’s lawyer is working to throw out the case he presented against her? Or because he senses we’re getting close?

“We’re just trying to piece it all together,” Michael replies, keeping his tone level. “So, can you tell us why you’re back in town, Chad? Backstory can sometimes help,” he adds with a dark smile.

“I’m assuming Margot told you why.”

“She did, but I sense there’s more to it,” he replies.

“I miss my family. Is that a crime?”

“No,” Michael replies. “But kidnapping is.”

“Kidnapping—” Chad whirls on the sheriff. “Kidnapping, Vick, really?”

“We just need some answers, Chad,” he replies.

“You’ve known me my entire life. Do you really think I would do anything like this?”

“No one thought you’d abandon your family either,” Michael snaps.

Chad shoots out of his chair and rushes for Michael, who’s already on his feet. I step between them, catching the right hook meant for my partner. Pain shoots up through my jaw, and I clench my hands into fists at my side.

“Knock it off!” Sheriff Vick yells.

I glare at Chad, knowing if he takes another swing, I’m not going to just take it this time. His glare shifts from me to Michael and he steps back.

“Coward,” Chad snarls. “Had to have your boyfriend here step in for you.”

Michael laughs because we both know the only reason I stepped in between them was to keep Michael from killing Chad right here in the station’s conference room. “Anytime you wanna step into the ring, I’m game, O’Connell.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he growls, backing further away.

“You good?” Sheriff Vick asks me.

“Barely felt it,” I reply. “You’re going to make time,” I tell Chad. “Now, where were we?”

“You were busy accusing me of something I didn’t do.”

I ignore him. “Where were you the night Lanetti went missing?”

“At my parent’s house,” he snaps. “You can check with them.”

“We will,” I reply.

“Good. Fine.” He stands.

“Why did you fly out to LA?”

“What?”

I cross my arms. “You flew to LA the week before you came here. Why?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“It has to do with this case, which makes it my business.”

He looks to the sheriff. “I want my lawyer,” he snaps.

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