Page 54
“Easy, girl,” Polly warned.
She hurried to open her door and lock herself inside. But something moved behind her.
A hand clamped over her mouth. Another arm locked around her waist and yanked her backward so hard her boots left the floor. Her key card hit the tile. She dropped Luna’s leash.
She tried to scream, twisting, kicking, but her attacker was strong. She reached back to scratch her attacker, but found nothing but a wool scarf and the soft cotton of his jacket to grab onto. The smell hit next—body odor and something coppery and metallic—blood? Then those scents disappeared beneath a more potent, suffocating smell. Something chemical. A rag pressed hard over her nose and mouth, soaked with something that burned her lungs.
Chloroform.
Her vision blurred. Luna’s barking turned frantic, echoing down the hall, claws scraping the floor as the dog lunged and snapped. Her attacker kicked at Luna, but the puppy lunged again.
Polly fought to breathe, to hold on—but the darkness came too fast.
As she was dragged into the elevator, the world narrowed to the pounding of her heartbeat and Luna’s desperate cries. The doors closed, her struggles weakened and she slipped toward unconsciousness.
THE DRIVE DOWNTOWN was quiet except for the splash of melting snow against the cruiser’s tires. Daniel sat in the back seat, hands free but every muscle taut. His reflection in the partition glass showed the same face he’d seen in nightmares—so many scars, hard jaw, a man trying like hell not to lose control. Pirate wasn’t there to ground him, and that absence felt like losing a lifeline.
At least Standage was driving. The other detective—Harris—rode shotgun, muttering into his phone as they pulled into KCPD headquarters.
“Just routine questioning,” Joel had said. But Daniel knew better.
Inside, the interrogation room was a square box painted government gray, with a metal table between them. Joel motioned for Daniel to sit, his expression steady, while Harris remained standing, his bulk casting a shadow across the table that was meant to intimidate.
Daniel unzipped his coat and leaned back in his chair. He’d watched men he loved like brothers die in front of him. He’d fought his way back from certain death and partial blindness. He’d opened his heart to a shy, stubborn woman who treated him like he was a good man. He didn’t intimidate. “You want to tell me what this is about? You really think I killed Tate Emery?”
“Just a few questions,” Harris said, flipping open a folder. “You can make this easy if you cooperate.”
“I already told you everything I know.”
“Then let’s go over it again.” Harris turned a series of photos toward him—a blurry shot of Tate’s body under a tarp. Bruised knuckles, defensive wounds on his hands and a large pool of blood. The male nurse had put up a fight. Daniel didn’t flinch. “We’ve got a witness who saw you confront Mr. Emery at St. Luke’s parking garage last night. Said you shoved him against a car. Threatened him.”
Daniel’s voice was flat. “I told him to stay away from Polly. He’d been harassing her, bringing gifts, cornering her, touching her without her permission, showing up where he didn’t belong. I might have bet money that he was the guy who’s been stalking Polly—or at least an accomplice. I didn’t lay a hand on him until he took a swing at me first. Then I took him down to the pavement. Once he’d calmed down, I let him walk away.”
“He picked a fight with you, and you went back to finish it.” Harris’s tone was sharp. “Maybe those old demons caught up with you. PTSD. Unpredictable behavior since you got medically retired. Maybe you snapped.”
Joel’s head came up sharply. “Harris.”
Daniel’s jaw worked. “You’ve got the file wrong. I don’t have disciplinary issues, and I don’t ‘snap.’ I’m managing it—with therapy and a service dog. Pirate keeps me grounded.”
Harris gave a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “A dog. That’s cute. Does the mutt keep you from knifing people, too?”
Daniel’s voice dropped, calm and low. “He keeps me from doing something I’d regret. You’re testing that right now.”
Joel cut in, firm but measured. “Let’s stay on track. Daniel, what time did your group therapy let out last night?”
“Nine o’clock. I signed in and stayed the full two-hour session. I was hanging out and talking to a friend afterward, until I got a call from Polly that someone had broken into her place. You can check the roster.”
“Where’d you go after that?”
“Straight home to meet her. Ask Barb Maynard—my neighbor. Polly and I were at her place for an hour or so. Cake and coffee, solid conversation.” A hint of warmth crept into his voice. “She’ll vouch for us both.”
Joel nodded, jotting that down. “And after that?”
Daniel hesitated, that familiar anger simmering in his veins. He wasn’t about to tell this louse what he and Polly had shared. He clenched his hands into fists in his lap. “Polly stayed. We both turned in. Neither of us left until you knocked this morning.”
Harris leaned in, sneering. “Convenient. You expect me to buy that? That you left the hospital where Emery’s body was found and didn’t circle back to finish the job?”
Daniel met his stare. “I expect you to check the evidence. Security cameras, hospital parking logs. Canvass the neighborhood. My truck never left my driveway after I got home.”
