Page 18 of Deathmarch
“Armed robbery.” Not that she’d meant to share that with anyone in Broslin. Damn Harper for making her.
“When?”
“Last summer. July third,” she specified, because he sounded like hewouldcall to confirm.
The way he stood, legs braced, hands hanging loosely by his side, but his right one staying near his weapon… The way he looked at her, as if he was evaluating her, made her uneasy.
She pulled her legs under her and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Harper? What’s going on?”
He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt.
She froze.What the hell?
“Allyssa Bianchi, you’re under arrest for the murder of Chuck Lamm.”
Chuck Lamm. Old Man Lamm.God, she hadn’t thought of the town recluse in ages.
“Someone killed Lamm? When?” She stared as all the heat she’d acquired from the bath and the fire fled her body all over again, an icy chill surrounding her heart. She might as well have still been standing back in that snowbank.
This couldn’t be right. How on earth was she being arrested formurder?
Except, of course…
This was freaking Harper Finnegan—master jokester.
“That’s not funny!” she snapped at him, pushing to her feet at last, careful with the robe, but almost too pissed to care. She wished she had a throw pillow within range, for the idiot’s head. “Leave my keys and purse and get out. I’m too tired for this, Harper.”
He didn’t grin. His cold official expression held.
“You’ll want to get dressed,” he said, and then he turned around, which left her baffled.
“What are you doing?” Then it clicked—giving her privacy. “You are taking this stupid joke too far. You know that, right?”
“You have the right to remain silent,” he said without turning around. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”
“I want you to leave.” She spat the words at his wide back. “So not amused. This is so stupid.”
He made as if to turn around. “Ready?”
“No!” She grabbed for her clothes on the bed: jeans and her pink sweater. She’d only had them on for the ride, clean enough to wear again. But she would have preferred clean socks and underwear. Well, no help for that. He hadn’t brought up her suitcase.
She made do with what she had, grappling to figure out what was happening.
You’re under arrest for murder.
Had he really said that?
Her brain felt like an exploding fireworks factory. “I didn’t kill anyone. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m taking you in so you can answer some questions. Can I turn around?”
He didn’t at all sound like he was kidding.
As Allie sat on the bed, she lost her breath, then, when she regained it again, she began pulling on her boots with shaky fingers. “You can turn around. And could you please tell me, seriously, what’s going on here? I literally just got into town. You know this. You were there.”
“It’d be better for you if we don’t talk until your attorney is present.” He turned at last and closed the distance between them.
She looked up at him. “I don’t have an attorney.”
