Page 368 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

He turned to McCauley. “She made it clear she was interested. Touched my arm a couple of times when Dylan was either not paying attention or out of the room. Asked too many questions.”

“And that made you angry?”

“Excuse me?”

McCauley shrugged. “I’m just trying to gauge your state of mind.”

“Of course.” Jacob held it together on the outside even though his head spun. “Is she pressing charges?”

“No. Like I said, it was only a report.”

“Is there anything else?” He’d figured this was about the body Hank had run off to look at. Assumed it was about the missing girl who worked at the retirement home. Maybe she wasn’t dead.

“Yeah, there is.” McCauley glanced at Addie.

Addie put her hands in her coat pocket. “Can you confirm for us your whereabouts between midnight and five this morning?”

So this was about Celia. She’d been found dead, and right now he was the prime suspect. Instead of answering what hadn’t been a question, he said, “Why would I need to do that?”

Hopefully Sammie hadn’t disappeared since she called the cops to report her own actions. He didn’t get people sometimes. Why sabotage his reputation and business, all because he’d shut down her advances? It didn’t make sense to him.

Then again, people rarely made sense to him.

“Celia Jessop’s body was found this morning,” McCauley announced.

Jacob walked to the couch and sat. He knew, of course, since Hank had told him. Still, he couldn’t help it hitting him.

He ran his hands down his face and thought about that woman on the phone, Celia’s mother. She’d accused him of being the one who took her daughter. But the grief in her voice? The pain she felt had caused her to lash out, looking for an explanation where there often was none.

Or she heard about that fight he’d had with the boyfriend and drew her own conclusions.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He hated that a life had been snuffed out. “She was a sweet girl. That’s a…it’s a shame.” Her family would know what it was like to lose a loved one too soon.

“As I said,” McCauley started, “where were you last night?”

“Midnight to five?” Jacob glanced at Addie, and she nodded. “Here. In my apartment—alone—until three-thirty.” Both of them stiffened, just a fraction of a shift. Jacob’s life was about visual nuances. There was something significant to it that time. “Then I was downstairs at the gym. When I got back up, Detective Maxwell was here making breakfast.”

“Does Hank do that a lot?” Addie asked.

“He has a key.”

“Do you do that a lot?”

He didn’t exactly know what she was asking. “He’s the only person who has a key. If for nothing else than he can get in if no one’s seen me for a few days because I slipped getting out of the shower.”

“Like one of those medical alert things?”

The captain cleared his throat. When they both looked at him, McCauley lifted his chin. “Can security for the building confirm you never left?”

“My key logs entry and exit. It’ll show when I went to the gym. And that I never left the building. It might suffice.” Jacob shrugged. “Until you discover I own the whole building, and the salaries for all security and housing staff are paid out of my accounts.”

Addie shifted, a movement he spotted out of the corner of his eye. “You own thebuilding?”

She glanced around, and he realized he’d surprised her. He’d figured she would do her due diligence. Run his credit and see if he had a rap sheet. Unless she’d had no intention of seeing him again—until it became necessary to question him about a murder.

He might’ve hugged her, but clearly he meant nothing to her aside from ancient history. How long until the cops heard about the incident with Celia and her boyfriend?

“The fact you have the means to craft yourself an alibi doesn’t bode well for you.” McCauley assessed him with a long stare.

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