Page 47 of Shiver

Not a suspect, a victim, he reminded himself.

He pulled two cups from the cupboard as Tony slid a print out of an old police file across the table. Riley looked into the scared eyes of a young girl—a young Devra.

“She’d been arrested when she was thirteen for the murder of a neighbor boy,” Tony explained. “No one ever discovered exactly what had happened that day, but the kid had his head smashed in and his blood was all over her. They found her wandering the forest in a daze, a rock covered with the kid’s blood in her hand.”

Riley set down the cups and dropped into a chair to scan the file. “Tommy Marshall,” he muttered and cursed aloud. He remembered the way she’d looked when he’d shown her the newspaper article of Tommy’s death, the way she’d clutched him. He looked up at Tony. “She said she didn’t kill him.”

Tony’s lips thinned into a straight line.

Riley turned back to the papers. “How did your friend get his hands on a juvenile’s sealed file?”

“Apparently, the police chief was the victim’s father. He believes she did it, and he’s still carrying a grudge.”

Riley nodded. “It says here they released her.”

“Yep, not enough evidence. Burns the chief up, though. It’s a good thing she lives far away from Washington.”

Riley dropped the paper onto the table next to the sketch of their “devil” and rose to pour them both a cup of much needed coffee. “There you go,” he said without turning. “She wasn’t convicted. I don’t see any reason to drag this whole sordid mess out now, especially since none of this information is admissible.”

“There you go, nothing,” Tony sputtered, as outrage crossed his face. “Aren’t you the one who says where there’s smoke—”

Riley handed Tony a cup. “Yeah, look for the fire.”

“Well, this broad’s smoking more than my uncle Sal’s old diesel pickup truck.”

Riley’s smile was grim. He walked over to the counter and picked up the paper he’d found in the treehouse. “When Devra saw this, she freaked. She swears the man who killed Tommy is here and with all the stuff that’s been happening around here, I’m starting to believe her.”

Tony looked at the paper with quiet speculation.

“I’ll wake Devra,” Riley offered. “I’m sure she can explain what happened.”

“Good. ’Cause I, for one, sure would like to hear about it, and the sooner, the better.”

“She swears she didn’t do it.”

“And you believe her?”

Riley nodded. He did. He just hoped he was right, for all their sakes.

Tony sighed, and the tension dropped from his shoulders. “I’m so tired I can hardly see straight, let alone think.”

Riley grinned, hoping to lighten the air between them. “Oh, is that what’s wrong with you? I thought you were just getting downright ugly in your old age.”

“Hardy har har.”

“And you could use a shower, too, man. Whooeeee.”

“You’re just a barrel of laughs,” Tony muttered as Riley walked toward Devra’s room.

Riley knocked softly on the door and wondered how Devra would greet him. Would it be with open arms or embarrassment? He hoped she didn’t think their kiss had been a mistake. Walking away from her had been one the hardest moves he’d ever made, but he was glad he hadn’t given in to his growing attraction in light of what they had to discuss this morning.

She had risked her life for him, he would never forget that but he had to be on guard, to keep himself at a distance; otherwise, he’d never be able to allow Tony and the captain to question her.

He knocked softly. After a moment, he knocked again, then turned the door handle and walked in. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he called, but the words died on his lips. Devra wasn’t in the room. Her bed was made and a note lay on her pillow. He picked up the note.

Dear Riley,

‘Thank you for your hospitality,’ doesn’t seem enough after all we’ve shared. As you might have guessed, the man who took my locket, the man in the sketch, is the same man who killed Michelle. I am certain because when I was a child, I saw this man kill a friend of mine and he’s haunted me ever since. I must go before I put you and your family in further danger. I can’t bear to witness the death of another person I care about. I’ll treasure the time we spent together. My only wish is that we had more.

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