8:32 P.M.
This was crazy.
Luke was sitting in a small, cramped, dark interview room at the police station, waiting for the detectives to return.
What did they think he’d done?
So far, they hadn’t told him. When they’d left the restaurant, they’d bundled him into an unmarked car and driven him straight here. No one had spoken during the ride. Then at the station they had led him to a small room and told him they’d be right back.
They hadn’t yet.
He had sat here alone with his thoughts. Which had bounced between anxious wondering about what the cops thought he had done and Summer.
What must she be thinking?
He’d finally managed to convince her to go on a date with him, and then the cops had shown up and all but dragged him away.
Was whatever he could have had with her over before it began?
Surely, she wouldn’t want to pursue anything now. She had already been on the fence about dating him. She had resisted, but then she had decided to give him a chance. That had probably been ruined the instant Detective Bennett and Detective Dawson interrupted his date.
He knew Detective Dawson was the husband of Aggie’s sister Clara. Didn’t that make them kind of related? Surely the man could have at least given him an inkling about what was going on.
Where were they? Luke knew they were deliberately leaving him to sweat, and it was working. He wanted to know why he was here. If they didn’t come back soon, he was going to explode.
As if on cue the door swung open, and the detectives appeared. They took their time entering the room, arranging their papers on the table in front of them, taking their seats, and taking a drink from their cups of coffee.
Through sheer force of will, he remained still and silent.
“You like snakes, Mr. Sleigh?” Detective Dawson asked at last.
“Snakes?” he asked, confused.
“You know, long reptiles with no legs,” the detective elaborated.
“I know what they are. I just don’t know why you’re asking me about them.”
“You like them, right?”
“I guess.”
“You ever owned one as a pet?”
He had no idea where this was heading but saw no reason to lie. “Yes. As a kid I owned a python as a pet.”
“What do you need to keep one?”
“A terrarium with a cover, depending on the variety of snake you choose things that will recreate its natural habitat. Possibly an ultraviolet-B light, a heating source of some sort for under the tank, thermometer, hygrometers, mice or rats or insects for food.”
“You have one now?”
He shook his head.
The detectives nodded slowly and exchanged a glance he couldn’t decipher. “You know a woman called Zoe Kitter?”
“No.”
Detective Bennett arched her blonde brows. “No?” she repeated.