Page 23 of Collect the Pieces

They still seem suspicious. They’re detectives who deal with death on a regular basis. But they’re on the ugliest end of it. Their job isn’t to care for the dead and bring families peace. It’s to bring bad men to justice.

If they didn’t fail at their jobs so often, I wouldn’t have to be standing here as nervous as a mortician awaiting her own autopsy.

CHAPTER NINE

Jigsaw

As soon asI realized two of Slater County’s finest were at the front door, I slid out of the viewing room, into the hallway, and slipped up the first few stairs. Unless the cops want a tour of the entire house, I’ll be out of their sight but still able to hear the highlights of the conversation.

The less law enforcement knows about Margot’s involvement with my MC, the better.

Once Margot moved the detectives to her father’s office, I tiptoed into the parlor, staying out of sight but within listening range.

Didn’t I just warn her about this exact situation?

If I were superstitious, I’d think I jinxed her.

I lean against the wall, cocking my head to follow the conversation. They stick to asking about Laurel. Sounds like they think she offed her husband. Why the fuck are they even wasting the energy on such a piece of shit?

Margot’s calm and controlled voice drifts through the house. As the probing questions continue, I relax. If anything, they seem more interested in Margot’s father, not Margot. Maybe they think the old man was involved with her and killed her husband for revenge?

Still, my guard stays up. Protecting Margot’s my first priority, but I don’t want her father implicated in a murder either.

“Three generations of Cedarwoods have operated this way,” Margot says, her voice strong and clear, tinged with disdain for the stupid questions. “Other funeral homes have similar policies.”

That’s my girl.

“I see,” grumpy cop huffs like a walrus lifting himself out of the water.

Margot answers more inane questions, her tone shifting to polite but firm, just distant enough to give nothing away. Every answer sounds reasonable, logical, leaving no room for suspicion.

“Just out of curiosity,” the other cop says, “do you know where you were the night of…” he hesitates, then rattles off a date that falls right in the middle of my trip to Deadbranch.Fuck.At least if I’d been in the state, I could’ve been her alibi. But law enforcement from New York to Tennessee knows all the Lost Kings MC charters were in Deadbranch for Digger’s final farewell.

“Here, probably,” Margot answers smoothly. “I’d have to check my schedule to be sure.”

“Pretty woman like you wasn’t out on a date?” one of them asks.

My hands curl into fists.

Margot lets out a nervous laugh. “Unlikely. I work a lot.” After a few seconds she says, “I would’ve been prepping for the Walsh funeral.”

They don’t ask if anyone can confirm her whereabouts.

Relieved, I blow out a slow, silent breath. If they seriously suspected Margot of being involved with that guy’s death, they would’ve asked for someone to confirm where she was. They’re only here to check items off of their list.

Still, do I need to bring this to the club? Or at the very least inform Teller? Cops sniffing around a business we have a stake in could be an issue. Icanpresent it as they had a question about one of Margot’s clients, can’t I?

Except that IknowMargot is involved. It borders on lying to my club. Not that I think anyone will have an issue with what she did—ifit was a one-off. Hell, they probably wouldn’t care, even applaud her. But once I mention her kill list has a few more entries,thatmight be a red flag for my brothers. If she’s ever caught, it could bring unwanted attention to my entire club.

Fuck me.

My gut’s screaming toprotect Margot at all costs. From everyone. Even my club.

“Did you ever interact with Mr. Larsen?” walrus cop asks.

“Absolutely not,” Margot snaps. “As far as I know there is a restraining order in place. We would have called the sheriff’s department if he showed up here.”

“Man can’t say goodbye to his daughter?” the older cop presses.

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