When Angels Fall (25 page)

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Authors: AJ Hampton

BOOK: When Angels Fall
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Pathetic insight aside, the photo Peter had found was hardly incriminating. The breath she

d been holding whooshed free.

Peter glanced from her to the photo, back to her.

Is this
the
night you let him pop your cherry? Did he tell you he loved you? Is that how he got you on your back? Because honestly, you look less than thrilled in this picture.

She had been less than thrilled.

Screw you, Peter. Not everyone wants to go through life alone. There isn

t anything wrong with letting someone love you.


Really? I can see Grady loving you turned out really well.

He threw the frame onto the desk, laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in the detective

s chair as if it were his own.

How

s your face feel? No.

He paused.

How do you think Greg feels about Grady

s love for you?

Peter dropped his arms, slammed his feet to the floor.

Oh wait, he

s dead.


He didn

t kill him,

she said, and turned to resume proving Grady

s innocence.

The town

s boring history played before her in pictures and in files, and she was grateful for something other than Peter to concentrate on. She caught only glances of the files

content, but soon discovered most of the town

s crime consisted of public disturbances, and a few drunken brawls. The time passed slowly and silently, neither productive for her spinning thoughts.


Found the file,

Peter said.


Where was it?

she asked, moving to stand behind him so she could read over his shoulder.


Taped under the desk. Paranoid fucker.


Well, he has reason. We broke in here
,
didn

t we?

Peter opened the folder, scanned through documents they

d already seen.


There has to be more,

he muttered, flipped through the papers once more.

He was right, there had to be more. Eva glanced around Grady

s desk, ruffled through loose Post-its and receipts Peter had pulled from the drawers. She looked closer, squinted at a boarding pass and tried to remember when Grady had gone out of town.

The date stamp was faded, hard to read.


What is it?

Peter asked, looking up from the file.

He spun the chair around, put them almost nose to nose. She swallowed, tried to look anywhere except his mouth, or his eyes. She shoved the ticket against his chest, stepped back.


Grady wasn

t in town the night Greg was killed, or I guess he was just getting in. Check the arrival time on this plane ticket. Five PM. He couldn

t have met Greg in the woods. Hell, he must have come to the clinic to investigate the murder right from the airport.

Peter sat back in the chair, studied the evidence. He was silent for a full minute.


Maybe this is his alibi.

Suspicion still filled his tone.


Look at the stamp,

ID Checked.
’”

He threw the stub to the desk.

Fuck.

A victorious smile filled her face.

I told you he didn

t do it.

Teeth clenched, Peter said slowly, unhappily,

He didn

t do it. But, his scent was all over the forest. It was fresh. He is guilty of something.


Someone set him—

She cut off mid sentence when Peter stiffened, his head cocking toward the door. Without preternatural sense
s
she could hear the sound too—boot steps. A shadow approached the door.
A
figure appeared through the glass. Eva grimaced at the murderous look on Grady

s face. It was too late to jump through the window
;
they

d already been seen.

The detective threw open the door hard enough for it to crash against the wall.

What in the hell are you two doing in here?

he growled.

Wrinkles lined his gray sweat pants and black tee. His thick brown coat wasn

t buttoned and his hair stuck
out
in several different directions. He

d
just rolled from bed.


Would you believe me if I told you Peter wanted me to have sex on your desk to prove my loyalty to him?

she asked.

Grady hiked an eyebrow, looked back and forth between them. Instead of panicking like her, Peter had lounged back in the chair and kicked his dirty boots up on the desk.


If I

d caught you two naked, maybe
.

Grady pointed at Peter
.

H
e seems like enough of asshole to do something like that. And, get your fucking boots of
f
my desk.

Grady reached behind him, drawing a gun from the back waistband of his pants. Two handed, he held the butt and leveled the barrel.

You might also want to set the file down and put your hands in the air.

Her arms rose automatically, while beside her, Peter looked at the weapon with bored disinterest. He could cross the room in a second if he

d wanted
;
she didn

t have that luxury.


Put your hands down, Eva. He isn

t going to shoot us.

Peter had a point. Grady wasn

t a killer. Slowly, her hands fell to her sides in the same moment the cop dropped his gun on a sigh.


What the hell, Eva?

Grady asked.

You better start explaining before I throw your ass in jail.


I didn

t think you

d given me the complete file on Greg

s case. I wanted to see the original for myself.

Emotion filled his eyes, and the depth of it looked almost as painful as his swollen nose and black eye.

You thought I killed him, didn

t you?

He looked to Peter.

That

s what earlier was about, you wanting to rip off my head.


You punched Eva in the face,

Peter growled.

That was enough
;
the fact I thought you murdered my father, and then Becca, was a bonus.

Grady drew a hand down his face.

I was out of town when Greg was murdered. My dad alerted me when I was on my way from the airport. You think he

d let me investigate the case unless I had an alibi? I would have been the prime suspect in Greg

s case.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

We, ah, found your boarding pass. So yes, we know you didn

t do it.


I can

t believe you

d think I was capable of murder. In all the years we dated, did I ever display any violent tendencies? I didn

t mean to hit you the other night, Eva, you know that.

Grady stepped close.

Peter rose to his feet in one fluid movement. His bulk filled the tiny room as if the space around them had shrunk. He made a noise in the back of his throat, a warning that stopped the detective mid step.


I know, Grady, I

m sorry. But,

she hesitated, tried to figure out a way to tell him about his scent at the hunting cabin without giving away the Pard

s secret. Looking at Peter, she touched her nose, hoped he

d get the hint.

He took over the conversation, the hostility in his voice matching the venom lingering in his eyes.

Have you ever been out to Greg

s hunting cabin in the south bend of the forest, near the lake?

Grady

s gaze cut to her.

Not any time recently.

She and Peter exchanged a glance. Someone had purposefully made it seem like Grady had been there. Someone who knew Peter would be looking for a scent. Someone in the Pard.


Why?

Grady asked, not missing their exchange.

What do you two know?


We

re leaving,

Peter said, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward.

Grady frowned, stepped in front of the door.

I can have you both arrested for breaking and entering, and if you

re withholding evidence—


You won

t do shit,

Peter said confidently.

Arms crossed over his chest, Grady narrowed his eyes.

And what makes you so sure?


Because you

re in love with Eva.


So are you,

Grady shot right back.

Her heart raced, the sudden acceleration heating her from the inside out. The thud, thud, thud stopped and the sweat on her skin chilled. She looked at Peter, but he didn

t meet her gaze, didn

t move a single muscle. Silent, he stared at Grady until the other man shifted, blinked, and then looked away.


Get out of here, the both of you, before I come to my senses.

She went straight for the door, didn

t need to be told twice, didn

t need Peter

s hand on her arm to pull her out of the testosterone
-
filled room. Outside of the police station in the cold wintery night, she turned to Grady one last time.

How

d you know we were inside?


Anonymous tip. Someone called my house, told me I needed to get to the station.

A frown shaped Peter

s brows.

Did you recognize the voice?


Nah, but I requested a trace on the line. Sometimes I get results back in a few hours, sometimes a few days. Depends on how lazy the phone company is.

She waved good-bye, and her and Peter walked back to the bar toward his truck.


You think someone saw us breaking in?

she asked, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Peter stopped at the driver side door, looked at her over the top of the cab.

Whoever killed Greg and Becca is watching you, saw us go into the building and called Grady.


It

s someone in the Pard, isn

t it?

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