Page 76 of Kiss Me Honey Hone

“Aaron Jones.”

Cleveland’s pen stopped mid-note. “Aaron Jones?”

“Yes.” Kenny refused to break eye contact. He had to remember, nothing of what he did last night was illegal. Sleeping with a student wasn’t even a sackable offense. But it was the looks of alarm that had his hackles rising. They knew Aaron from last year. The Rahul Mishra case, and how he’d given evidence at the trial to incarcerate Drew. “We were together all night. He can confirm that.”

“And you didn’t leave at any point?”

“No,” Kenny replied firmly. “I didn’t. Nor did he.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because we shared a bed. And his clothes were in the same location this morning as they were last night. Which was downstairs.”

Cleveland exchanged a glance with Jenkins before nodding curtly. “We’ll need to speak with Mr Jones.”

Kenny didn’t reply. There was nothing else to say.

“Thank you, Dr Lyons,” Cleveland said. “We appreciate you coming in so early to help us with our enquiries. You may go.”

Jack motioned for Kenny to follow him out of the interrogation room. They didn’t speak as they moved through the corridors of the precinct, tension humming between them until Jack led him into a small side office and closed the door behind.

“Why the private meeting?” Kenny asked, fatigue creeping into his bones.

Jack didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he retrieved a folderfrom a drawer and placed it on the desk between them. He tapped it once, his expression grim. “Carly.”

Kenny gave him a look. Jack was risking everything here. Again. But he opened the folder and the first thing he saw was a crime scene photograph—a woman sprawled on her desk, at first appearing as though she was asleep, but her eyes were open, and her skin tinged blue.

Kenny flipped through the pages, taking in the forensic reports, witness statements, and photos. He stopped at an image of CCTV footage, grainy and shadowed, showing a man outside theGazette’soffices. He was handing something—a single red rose—to Carly Reynolds.

“Is this him?” Kenny asked, his voice low.

Jack nodded. “Same man was seen on CCTV again, just before midnight. Carly was already dead by then, but he came back. Broke into her office. Ransacked her files.”

“And he took…?”

“Everything related toChild A.Carly had been collecting information for years. Whoever this bloke is, he knew what he wanted.”

Kenny stared at the image, frustration bubbling under his skin. The man’s face was never clear. Obscured by shadows or angled away from the camera. Just a figure in a hoodie, nothing more.

“This is our guy, Kenny. Ourkisser. And whoever this is, they’ve got those files. The question is, why does he want them? And why risk being caught on camera to get them when he’d been so damn careful until now?”

Kenny clenched his fist around the edge of the folder, pulse hammering in his ears. “Can I take this?”

“Yes. They’re copies. But you donottell anyone you have them.”

Kenny snuck them into his bag, then headed to the door.

But Jack’s voice, accusatory and unyielding, hit him on the back of the head. “So, youarefucking him now?”

Kenny hovered his hand around the doorknob. “Does it hurt?”

Jack held his gaze. “Not anymore.”

Kenny smiled, then twisted the door handle. “You’re welcome.”

“Fuck you.”

Chapter nineteen

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