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“Yeah, it was,” I grumbled as I waited to dismount before Jackson had disappeared all the way inside.

We were off our bikes and heading in the direction of the garage door that led inside when gunshots sounded.

“Fuck,” I said, pulling my weapon.

Lock wasn’t far behind as we went into the house.

***

“Tell me what happened again, slower this time,” the detective in charge of the case ordered.

Oakley’s eyes turned to me once again, drew in a breath, then blew it out slowly.

“I got there, opened the garage door, got out of my vehicle, and headed around the hood of my…” she started again, this time much slower.

She was nervous.

I could tell.

“You didn’t close the door to your vehicle?” Detective Mox asked.

Oakley shook her head. “No. It’s a Jeep. We have the top and doors off.”

Detective Mox waved his hand for her to continue.

“I had just rounded the hood of the car when I heard something slam down, I’m thinking it was one of the boxes in the front of the garage. I looked up under the opening of the garage door to see the door that leads to the back yard slam closed. Once that happened, I didn’t do anything else. I backed out of the way and called Pace,” she explained for the second time.

“Why not the police?” he asked.

Oakley’s brows rose. “He is the police.”

Mox waved his hand in the air. “I mean 9-1-1. Why didn’t you call the police and not Pace?”

Oakley just shrugged.

“He’s my boyfriend. I guess I didn’t want to seem stupid,” she explained.

“And you?” Mox turned to me. “Tell me what happened on your end.”

“He’s already told you exactly what happened on his end,” Todd Masterson, my lawyer, sighed. “If you have no further questions that you haven’t already asked, it’s time for us to go. If you can remember, Mr. Vineyard’s sister was shot and killed today.”

The news still jolted me in my seat.

My sister had been shot.

By Jackson.

My sister had been shot and killed by Jackson—the one-man wrecking crew.

Mox groaned. “I’m sorry, Pace. I forget that she was related to you.”

It was understandable, really. Normally someone that had just had their sister shot and killed would’ve been acting a little differently. But, since my sister had been nothing but an asshole to me since I was a young kid? I mean sure, I was upset. But it wasn’t life-changing. It sucked—really bad. But life would go on.

I just hoped my mother got her life together enough to turn her shit around and not end up like Bella.

“It’s okay,” I said. “But I am ready to go, if it’s all the same to you. I’ve had a really long day, and I’d like to get some shut-eye. I’ll answer and re-answer any questions you might have in the morning.”

It’d been a long shift, and an even longer day after the shooting. It was going on midnight and I wanted nothing more but to go to sleep with Oakley tucked into my arms.

“Fine,” Mox said as he stood. “I’ll call you in the morning and we can set up a time to meet. I still have a few questions.”

“Make sure that I’m aware of the time and place of said meeting.” Todd stood up and packed up his notepad. “Also, give them until at least ten in the morning. This is apparently the first day off Pace has had this week, and I’m sure you’re more than aware of what it feels like to be woken up early on your day off.”

Mox grinned. “Sure do. I also know what it feels like to be called out of my bed that I’ve only been sleeping in for forty-five minutes to respond to a murder that was two blocks away from my house.”

With that, Todd offered Mox his hand, and I helped Oakley to stand.

“Ready, baby?” I asked.

“Yes,” she sighed. “I’m so tired.”

We walked out of the interrogation room and into the bullpen moments later. There weren’t very many people left in the large room, but there was quite a bit of hustle and bustle for the hour.

Murders in a small town would do that for you.

I spotted Jackson in the corner of the room, talking merrily with a couple of other cops, and rolled my eyes.

“He doesn’t even look like he’s upset that he shot someone,” she grumbled.

No, he didn’t.

It was only after we were in the Jeep and driving home that Oakley spoke up.

“I think they were both there,” she said softly into the wind.

So softly that I almost didn’t hear her.

“What?” I asked.

“I think they were both there,” she repeated. “The door I heard slam? That led into the back yard. Bella was in my bedroom. The door was still locked from the back yard to the living room. So, there was no way that whoever was in the garage would’ve been able to get back in through the back door. The way I was positioned down the street, I would’ve been able to see if she’d come back inside the house either by way of the front door, or the garage door.”


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