Page 34 of Over the Edge

Whatever the explanation, he ought to get over it. After all, Lindsey’s attitude may not have been anything personal. It was possible he’d reminded her of someone she didn’t like, and her response had been exacerbated by the stress of the situation. By now, she might be calmer and more cordial.

He returned to his office, called up his case notes, and tapped in her number.

Two rings in, she answered, greeting him in a cool tone.

So much for cordial. Whatever she’d had in her craw the day of the killing must still be there.

“Ms. Barnes, Detective Tucker.” He infused as much friendliness as he could into his voice. “Do you have a minute?”

“Not much more than that. I’m about to walk out the door. I, uh, have to pick something up.”

“Your car?”

A beat ticked by.

“Yes.” Her tone was cautious. “How did you know about that?”

“A colleague told me.” He leaned back in his chair. “Unless you already have a ride, I’d be happy to give you a lift there. I’d like to talk to you again about last Friday, anyway.”

“I don’t see any point in recounting the incident.”

“It can be helpful. Sometimes witnesses recall useful details during a retelling. Even minor things that don’t appear to be important can help in an investigation. And I’m cheaper than Uber.” If he couldn’t win her over with sociability, maybe he could appeal to her pecuniary instincts.

Silence.

Just as he resigned himself to a refusal, she acquiesced. “Okay. How soon can you be here?”

He tipped his chair forward and homed in on her address in the report. Calculated the drive time from headquarters to the close-in suburb. “Fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll watch for you.”

The line went dead.

No thank-you for the offer of a ride.

Then again, he’d indicated he needed to talk with her. Suggested there was a business motive behind his generosity rather than positioning it as doing her a favor.

A deliberate choice, since she would have refused the latter.

Pocketing his cell, he strode toward the door.

No matter why she’d accepted, maybe another chat with her would help him figure out why he couldn’t get their first encounter out of his mind—and why he’d rubbed her wrong.

It would also give him a chance to assess the mental state of his sole witness, who’d seemingly misplaced her car.

SHE SHOULD HAVE REFUSEDthe ride.

But why spend money for a cab or Uber if she could get a lift for free? Plus, she did have one small piece of information to pass on about the person she’d seen in the Robertson kitchen. Sending it via email, as she’d planned, would have been less grating, but in practical terms a buck was a buck.

As Lindsey watched through her living room window, a Taurus stopped in front of the small, two-story condo unit that was tucked into a cozy neighborhood of single-family modest homes with well-tended lawns. The relaxed, residential vibe had been a huge selling point as she’d shopped for a place to live.

Purse in hand, she armed her security system and let herself out the front door. She was halfway down the sidewalk before Jack Tucker emerged from his car.

He did, however, manage to circle the Taurus and open the passenger door before she reached the vehicle.

“Good morning.” He offered her a winning smile, the warmth in his cobalt blue eyes chasing away the morning chill.

The man was good-looking, no question about it. It wasn’t hard to see why Clair had fallen for him.

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