tting flesh. A woman cried out in shock and pain, and all of Nate’s instincts kicked in. He tried the door, and finding it locked, reared back on one leg to prepare to kick it down.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Laura’s attention snapped back to the door at the sound of a slap, shocking and unmistakable. As a member of law enforcement, it was something that they had both heard far too often. She barely had time to react before she realized that Nate was gearing up to kick down the door, and then he launched himself towards it with a powerful kick that splintered the frame.
It didn't quite give yet. He kicked one more time, grunting with effort as he did so. This time, the door came away from the hinge, the wood giving way under the force of his strength. “FBI! Get your hands up!” he yelled, drawing his gun.
Laura did the same, grabbing her gun out of its holster and raising it in the standard hold she had been taught in the Academy so many years ago. Braced in both hands, it remained steady as both she and Nate moved one by one into the apartment and down the hall. It was not difficult to trace the source of the noise they had heard - only a few rooms branched off from the corridor, and one of them was a large open space composed of the kitchen, dining room, and living room.
Two people, one man and one woman, were standing in the center of the floor with their hands up. They both looked absolutely terrified, and notably, neither of them looked as though they had been beaten recently.
There was no red mark on either of their faces, and neither of them seemed distressed beyond the fact that they were obviously scared.
“Keep your hands up,” Laura said, keeping her voice steady. “We heard sounds of a disturbance.”
“Oh my God,” the woman said, shaking her head rapidly. A cloud of dark hair whipped around her face as she did so. “No, no, we were just rehearsing. We’re actors. We were rehearsing, I swear!”
Actors. Laura took the time to exchange a glance with Nate. After all, they were looking for an acting student. The story checked out. Both of them relaxed at the same time, lowering their guns.
“No one here is hurt?” Nate asked, making sure, doing his due diligence. While they might have assumed that the woman was the one being hit, there was no law of nature that said it couldn't be the other way around.
“No, not at all,” the man said. The man, who, Laura assumed, had to be Caleb Rowntree. “Honestly, we were just running lines.”
Laura exchanged a glance with Nate. Both of them had to be thinking about the broken-down door out in the hall. It might have just been a trick of the light, but for a moment Laura thought she saw an embarrassed flush on Nate’s cheeks.
“Caleb Rowntree?” Laura asked, addressing him directly. He nodded, his face ashy pale under dark hair swept back from his face. He had the beginnings of a beard, designer stubble carved expertly into an attractive roughness.
“And your name?” Nate asked, addressing the woman.
“Jenny Pho,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Laura remembered her name from the list. They had her contact details already. They didn’t need to speak to her now, not when they had a suspect in their sights – but she might be a useful witness later if she had noticed Rowntree acting suspicious.
“Please leave us to speak with Mr. Rowntree,” Laura instructed her. “We may need to speak to you later, so if you’re planning on leaving town, you’d better check in with the local police first. Got that?”
“Yes,” Jenny nodded, her face still flooded with anxiety. “I’m not leaving town.”
“Alright,” Laura nodded, letting her know that she was dismissed.
Jenny grabbed a light jacket and bag from a chair with a quick glance at Caleb, who had stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked utterly flustered. Then she was gone, leaving with a light gasp out in the hall at the state of the door.
“Um,” Caleb said. “Did you… kick my door down?”
“Yes,” Nate said, with all the impressive intimidation that a six-two man with bulging muscles could bring to bear on the average civilian.
Caleb swallowed, but he wasn’t put off. “Are you going to replace it?”
Laura swept forward to take control of the situation, gesturing towards the empty armchair. “Why don’t you take a seat and answer a few questions?” she asked. “We’ll get the door replaced for you.” They weren’t going to like it at HQ, but the odd bit of property damage often came with the territory. It was much better to break down a door and ask questions later than to leave someone in danger.
Caleb seemed to have recovered, at least slightly, from the shock of their entrance. He nodded and sat down. Laura noted that he was handsome, in rakish sort of way. He would probably do well in Hollywood. If he was any good as an actor, at least. “What is this about?” he asked. “Did someone call because they heard us running through the scene? I didn’t think we were being that loud.”
Laura and Nate took a sofa, both of them angling their bodies towards their suspect. “Mr. Rowntree,” Laura began, taking out her notebook ready to record his answers.
“Caleb, please,” he said, sending her a charming smile.
Laura shifted slightly and cleared her throat. “Caleb,” she said, starting again. “Can you tell me where you were last night?”
“I met up with a few friends for a drink in a bar downtown at around ten,” Caleb said. He leaned over the arm of the armchair towards her, as though they were engaged in a fascinating discussion instead of a murder investigation. “It was at Mulroon’s. Have you ever been there?”