“It’s necessary,” she explained. “And no, it doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about your guilt. It’s a way of covering my butt if you happen to say something—anything—connected to this murder investigation that could seemingly incriminate you.”
Cullen still hadn’t cursed, but Leigh belted out some mental profanity. Because this was something she should have already done.
“Do you understand your rights?” she asked when she’d finished reciting the Miranda warning.
“I understand” was all he said. Or rather grumbled. And then he got in the passenger’s seat of the cruiser.
Cullen was clearly insulted and riled. It was a good thing Leigh hadn’t started to weave any fantasies about having a hot night with her former lover.
Except she had.
Mercy, she had. No matter how much she tried to push away this attraction, it just kept coming back.
“Do you have enemies?” she asked, pulling the cruiser out of the driveway. Leigh headed for the road that would take them into town. “Someone who’d want to cause trouble for you?”
“Of course,” he readily admitted. “I’m a businessman, and I’m sure more than a few people thought they got the short end of the stick in a deal. But I don’t know of anyone who’d set me up by murdering Alexa and bashing in the head of one of my ranch hands.”
His voice and expression weren’t so cold now. Oh, no. There was heat, and it wasn’t from attraction. This was a storm of fury that Cullen was no doubt fighting to rein in. He looked formidable. And dangerous.
“Your father obviously hated Alexa,” she pointed out.
“Yes, but Bowen didn’t kill her,” Cullen snapped before she could add anything else. “My father has bent the law too many times to count, but he wouldn’t kill my ex-girlfriend in my bathroom and leave her body for me to find.”
On the surface, she had to agree with Cullen about all of that. But maybe Alexa’s murder hadn’t been planned. Maybe it’d been an impulse kill. Ditto for the attack on Jamie. If so, that changed the rules. People didn’t always make good decisions when panicked and trying to cover up a crime.
“Your father was at the party?” she asked. She mentally cursed again. This time when she tried to clear the sleet away with the windshield wipers, it left icy smears on the glass.
“He was.” Cullen paused. “He left early. And no, he didn’t seem upset or rattled. Maybe distracted,” he added in a mumble. “Maybe because he knew he’d have to tell me about the PI he hired.”
Maybe. That certainly had to be weighing on Bowen’s mind. But it also gave the man a motive for murder. Cullen had no doubt come to the same conclusion.
“My advice,” Cullen said a moment later, “have one of your deputies question my father. It’ll go easier on both of you if you’re not the one to do the interview.”
Probably. But Leigh intended to do the questioning herself. When exactly that would happen though, she didn’t know. Jamie came first, and then after she’d gotten everything she could from him, she’d need to contact the PI Bowen had hired. PIs often took pictures, and if he had, they might get an ID on the man Alexa had met in the café.
Because she had no choice, she turned on the wipers again and gave the windshield a spray of the cleaner that had a deicer in it. Her tires weren’t shimmying on the road yet, but they soon would. Definitely not good because this was a narrow ranch road with deep ditches on each side.
Leigh saw the flash of lights to her left. But only a flash. She barely had time to process it when an SUV came barreling out from a cluster of trees.
And it slammed right into the cruiser.