Page 54 of Falling for a Killer

The day Killian shot Jack Lawson.

“I don’t know,” I say firmly. “That’s why I was hoping you read the police report I filed. I came to Windwinter two days after that, and met Killian a couple days later.”

“What station did you file this report with?”

He knocks twice on the door when I tell him, leaving me alone for a few long moments, and then sits back in his chair with a sigh. “We’ll find out those dates soon enough. Now tell me how you two met. Your boyfriend seems to have forgotten how to talk, and you’re stringing me along. I want some answers.”

Good boy, Killian. Don’t tell them a fucking thing.

I wouldn’t either, but I know I’ll be more help to him outside of this police station.

“He stumbled up to my front door two days after I arrived. He asked me if he could use a phone, but I didn’t have a cell because I was there hiding from my psycho ex. He looked hungry, so I invited him in for dinner. He told me he lost his mom recently and they used to love to hike together, so he’s just been hiking and trying to remember her. I felt bad for him,so I let him stay the night, then two nights, and things just... happened from there.”

The look he gives makes me want to jump across this table and strangle him. “You mean to tell me you went there to escape your abusive partner, only to invite a strange man you’ve never met into your safe space two days later?”

“Yep. I thought maybe if this one actually killed me, you guys would fucking pay attention.” I attempt to hold up a hand as a forced apology, but the cuffs cut into my wrist. “The funny thing about being abused, Officer McKendrick, is that you become hyperaware of the people around you. Their ticks, their body language, the way they move. I may not be the fastest learner in the world, but I do learn. And something else you may not have considered — women and men are different. When a woman hurts a man, they take it as an excuse to hate all women for the rest of their lives. They use it as an excuse to belittle, abuse, rape, attack, murder. Women on the other hand, our empathy for others doesn’t magically disappear just because someone hurt us.”

Shaking his head, the officer takes a few more notes and moves on. “Alright. We’re not touching on this whole men versus women thing. So you read his body language and felt like you weren’t in danger? Is that correct?”

Jesus Christ on a cracker, I’m suddenly glad he handcuffed me. I’d be in jail faster than Killian if he hadn’t.

“Something like that. How’d you meet your wife? Buy her at an auction, perhaps?”

“Now you listen to me, little girl. You need to watch your m—”

The door opens to cut him off, a woman my age with a blonde bob-cut joining us with a notepad in her hands, and Officer McKendrick straightens in his seat. “Turns out they did haverecords, sir. They just aren’t in our state’s database. Here’s those dates you asked about.”

He doesn’t notice me flip him off with both hands since the notepad blocks his line of sight, but I can see it on his face when he realizes I can’t give Killian an alibi.

The dickhead smiles.

“I see. Thank you, Officer Wallace. Any luck in the other room?”

She shakes her head, filling me with joy. “He still hasn’t said a word.”

“Because he didn’t do anything wrong,” I snap. “It’s my car, and it was just a burnt out taillight. Can someone explain to me why that means we need to be interrogated?”

“Have you watched the news at all?” he asks, waving a hand to dismiss the other officer. “Have you heard about what happened to Senator Jack Lawson?”

Oh, you mean that he got what he deserved?

I have to be very, very careful about what I say here. “I think I saw that he was shot, but I don’t exactly sit around my cabin and watch the news. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Of course you don’t. Instead you find strange men and invite them into your bed.” I want to kill him. “About half a year before the senator was murdered in cold blood, he was in a car accident with Killian and his mother, Lyra Blake. Has your boyfriend told you about that?”

“Yes, he has,” I admit, knowing lying will only make it look more suspicious. “He told me a drunk driver killed his mother. He didn’t specify his profession.”

“If that’s the case I’m sure he also didn’t tell you about how he threatened the Senator after the fact inside of a grocery store? Screamed at him in front of a dozen witnesses about how one day his karma would come back?” He chuckles at whatever he sees on my face. “Do yourself a favor, sweetheart. Tell meeverything you know about the murder and you’ll be free to go. Don’t go down for someone like him.”

“You’ll never be able to prove I had anything to do with it, because I didn’t, so I won’t be going down for anything. I don’t know where Killian was that night but I can promise you he wasn’t out committing murder. I know nothing about anything.”

“So much faith in a man you barely know. Answer this for me, does he own a gun?”

He leans over like he’s watching me closely, but I don’t let a thing show on my face. And I’ve watched enoughBonesto know how to lie.

Thanks, Sweets.

Exhaling, I relax my posture, leaning closer to him with my eyes locked on his. “If he owns one, I’ve never seen it. My dad owns several which are at the cabin. All perfectly legal.”

---