Page 40 of Off the Hook

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Aside from the possibility that he killed his ex-girlfriend, I thought he seemed perfect for you.”

I laughed. “I never thought he did it, really, but it’s good to have proof. And yeah, he’s pretty damned perfect.”

“Well…are you going to give me the deets on the hot date or do I have to extract them from you?”

I reached for the car door handle with one hand, balancing the phone on my shoulder while I grabbed my purse with the other. “I’ll happily tell you all about it, later. I’m on my way into work and I’m already late.”

“Alright,” Laura whined, “but promise me you’ll call as soon as you get off work.”

“I promise,” I said, kicking the Charger door closed with my heel.

The sun was shining and the birds were singing. I was on Cloud Nine, practically floating into the station.

“Morning, Louis,” I smiled, dropping a paper sack on his desk.

“Guava pastry?”

“Two of them,” I winked.

“Thanks, Detective. You’re a sweetheart.” Louis cocked his head, eyes narrowing. “You look…different. Did you do something different today?”

My cheeks grew warm. “Must be the facial I got yesterday.”

“It definitely worked,” he said with a broad grin. “You’re glowing.”

I struggled to maintain a straight face. “Well thank you, Louis. You’re the sweetheart.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Detective Ramirez is waiting for you in the conference room.”

“Good,” I said with a wink. “Enjoy the pastries.”

“Howdy, partner,” I said to Oscar, realizing immediately that I sounded far more chipper than my normal self. I’d better dial it back a notch. “How was your trip to Tally?”

“Long, and boring,” Oscar said gruffly. “Next time I’m sending you instead.”

I told him I’d be happy to go in his place. It’d sure beat the hell out of having to gowithhim and his negative attitude. But I was determined to focus on the positive news. “Did you see the DNA results?”

Oscar didn’t even look up from the stack of papers he was shuffling on his desk. “Yeah, I saw them. Doesn’t help us much unless CODIS turns up a match.”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded, but he still didn’t bother looking up. “This is the first solid piece of direct evidence we have in this case. It proves that Kylie had physical contact with someone before she died.” Despite my effort to keep my voice calm, it rose in pitch. “And now we know for sure it wasn’t Coulter Rodman!”

Oscar finally lifted his gaze, annoyed. “Faith, I know you really want to, but we still can’t rule Coulter out as a suspect,” he said, expression hard, jaw set.

“But the DNA doesn’t match,” I argued as calmly as I could manage. “That has to mean something.” Detective Ramirez had apparently learned to abandon all reason at the symposium in Tallahassee. In the whopping 15 minutes he had been in the station, he had completely shattered the peace I’d found in the Everglades with Coulter.

“There’s more than one way that DNA gets under fingernails,” he said with a sleazy look in his eyes.

I didn’t even try to hide that my face was surely showing exactly what I was thinking:What the fuck?Was he suggesting that the deceased had dug her nails into another man’s back, despite all the evidence that suggested that she was a devoted fiancé planning her wedding? My face flamed with fury. Oscar wasn’t a detective. He was a fiction writer–and a bad one at that.

“Seriously?” I asked, my mouth hanging open. “There’s absolutely no reason to think what you’re implying.”

His thin lips pursed under his mustache, feigning innocence. “I’m not implying anything. I’m saying that there’s more evidence implicating Coulter than there is exonerating him.”

So, despite evidence to the contrary, he wanted to continue to build a case against Coulter. Rage boiled up into my throat. “I’d love to hear what the DA says about that.”

“The DA is a buddy of mine, Detective.”

My mouth gaped. Nothing like pulling the small town boys club card. “Must be a really good buddy to put his ass on the line for such a flimsy case.”

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