Page 15 of Holding Out For A Holiday Hero

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The police station was festive. True was trying—extremely hard—to look on the bright side of things. Sure, it was difficult, considering that she was in a police interrogation room and the detective at the table kept casting her suspicious glances.

As if, you know, she’d committed murder.

“I didn’t,” she mumbled to no one in particular as her hands clutched the cold cup of coffee in front of her.

At least the police station is festive. Red and gold garland had been hung up everywhere. Christmas music played in the lobby. And…

She was in interrogation. Because there was a dead body under her tree. True’s shoulders slumped.

“You have no idea who the victim might be?”

She blinked at the detective. Detective Harris Avery. She’d talked to him before, when she’d been trying to convince the police that someone was trying to kill her. Harris had actually gone to school with her. She, Harris, and Jake had all been in the same graduating class.

She’d thought their shared past might make Harris more likely to hear her out when she’d tried to explain what had been happening.

It hadn’t. He’d told her that the cops were stretched too thin. That they didn’t have enough personnel to come and check out her house. That accidents happened. Harris had told her to be more careful. In other words, he’d provided zero help.

But Jake helped me. Jake, who was sitting silently beside her in interrogation. He was helping. He’d believed her when no one else had.

And, now, she had a dead body in her den. Suddenly, the cops seemed to be taking her very seriously. Murder made things serious. But as to who the dead man was… “No clue.”

“You’d never seen him before?” Harris pushed.

The dead man’s image flashed through her mind. Dirty blond hair. Slightly twisted nose, as if it had been broken before. Rounded chin. Young—maybe early twenties? He’d been wearing all black. Black sweatshirt. Black pants. Even black sneakers.

She had stared at the dead body in horror and with zero recognition. “I’d never seen him before, not until I saw his body under my tree.”

Harris narrowed his green eyes. “Where were you last night,” he asked, never taking his gaze from her, “between the hours of eleven p.m. and one a.m.?”

“I—”

“Is that what the ME is giving you as the time of death?” Jake wanted to know.

Harris shifted his attention to Jake. “Okay, I’m still confused. Why the hell are you here? Not like you’re the woman’s lawyer. And I’m pretty sure she hasn’t jumped bail so what gives?”

“Oh, God.” A gasp from True as she released the coffee cup. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“No,” Jake was adamant. “You don’t. Because you have an airtight alibi.” A pause. “Me.”

She hadn’t thought that Harris’s eyes could narrow more. They did.

“You?” Harris questioned.

“Yep. Me. I was with True last night.” Jake rolled one shoulder. Like the admission was nothing. Like he provided alibis for murder suspects all the time.

Harris’s gaze dipped back and forth between them. “You two went out? Maybe you were at a restaurant? A party? On some kind of date last night?”

True shook her head.

Jake let out a sigh as he leaned forward. “She was at my place. In my bed.”

Harris’s jaw dropped.

“She was with me,” Jake continued, “from about eight p.m. last night until this morning when I went with True to her house. She wanted to change clothes.”

Oh, jeez. That made it sound like—like they had?—

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