Page 94 of Such a Good Girl

“West, huh? Do I need to remind you that West Foster is a murder suspect?”

“No. He isn’t.” I lifted my chin. “West would never do something like that.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. When his gaze raked back down to my chest, I put the tray in front of me, blocking his view.

“You’re obviously way too close to this case now. You’re running out of time, Kaylee. The Lieutenant isn’t happy. You’ve got forty-eight hours or we’re pulling you out.”

He turned on his heel, leaving me there with my mouth open. How the hell was I going to get him more info in forty-eight hours?

My mind had been clouded by West. I needed to concentrate, to focus, to spend some time away from him so I could just think.

His face, his eyes, his lips, his wandering hands…they’d been the worst possible distraction. I knew I never should have gotten involved with him, but I also knew I never would have been able to resist him.

But for now?

I needed time. Space to think. Room to really get a handle on this shit and do what I did best — solve crimes.

There was a thread here, some connection that I couldn’t quite put together. My gut told me there was more to know about the victims' involvement with the club. The white paint alone told me that.

I shuddered to think about who might be involved.

I sent a quick text to West that I wasn’t feeling well, then slipped out the back door after changing into my street clothes. Once I got home, I locked myself in, turned on some soft music, poured a glass a wine, and pulled out all my files. I spread them out over the kitchen table. Once that was done, and everything was laid out in front of me, I got to work. Half an hour later, I had an organized display laid out on a large board. It contained photos of all the suspects so far, with the three identifying features that pinged them as suspects — possible motives, means and opportunities were listed below their photograph.

I hated that I had to add West’s face but there he was with his gorgeous eyes shining back at me.

Theo, Rian, and Danika were there, too.

Of all three identifying features of a suspect, nobody had just one.

I was pretty sure I could rule Danika out. She had a vendetta against West, sure. But I really didn’t see her murdering a bunch of women and framing West for their deaths. Danika was too focused on trying to tempt West into putting her in his film to have such an elaborate and murderous plan of revenge.

Which was good, because the last thing I wanted was to have to deal with Danika. West had tried to explain what she was like, and she seemedthelike the kind of person I wanted to stay far away from. But I wasn’t sure I could rule her out completely, so she stayed on the board.

At this time, West and Rian and Theo were almost equally suspicious. Except West had an alibi. I was tempted to rip his photo down. But something told me to keep it there until I’d confirmed his innocence.

I still hadn’t checked out his story. All I was going on was my gut.

ChapterThirty-Two

WEST

Danika knocked on my door and walked in without waiting for me to even look up. When I did, I groaned out loud.

“What do you want?”

“That’s a terrible way to say hello, West,” she said.

“What do you want, Danika?”

She walked over behind the desk and put her hand on my shoulder. I felt like I’d been burned. Twitching, I pulled away. She lifted her hand slowly, shaking her head. “Like I’ve never touched you before?” she asked, lifting a brow.

“Danika, I’m busy,” I said, ignoring her question.

“Too busy for me?”

“Absolutely,” I replied.

“You know, West, there was a time when you couldn’t wait to see me. Couldn’t wait to get me alone. Get me naked…”

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