“I’m sor—”
“Not you, Finn,” she said quickly. “It’s open season on the road today, and I’m like a sitting duck out here.”
“I’ll call back another time.”
“No, that’s not necessary. What’s up?” She adjusted her rearview mirror and turned into her neighborhood. Liam better be home. She was getting answers even if she had to shake them out of him.
“I was just wondering if you were going to Danté’s tonight.” When she didn’t respond right away, Finn added, “Half-price drink specials. It’s Thursday.”
“It is.” She couldn’t believe it was already day five of their murder investigation and their best suspect was a long-dead criminal. Unless, of course, Liam was the killer. Which, he wasn’t. He might be full of false charm and pretty lies and whatever else, but he wouldn’t flat out kill someone. Surely...
“Anyway, I’m heading over there, myself, after work,” Finn said. “I thought maybe we could catch a drink, if you’d like.”
“A drink.” If only Margaret hadn’t had so many drinks, she wouldn’t have passed out and then maybe Liam would have a better alibi. Although, Margaret’s story during the time of the murder was questionable, too. Nobody had actually seen her in that motel room. Maybe she killed her husband in cold blood while Liam was away. Or, maybe all Cora’s instincts were wrong, and Liam and Margaret were just a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde, murdering and stealing and wreaking havoc everywhere they went. Cora rubbed her aching temple with one hand as she maneuvered onto her street. She needed some Tylenol. Or a drink. “A good stiff one,” she murmured.
Finn made a choking sound. “Pardon?”
She snapped back to the moment. “Drinks! At Danté’s. Yeah, that might be good. I’m meeting Suzette there later. Listen, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. Let me call you back.”
“Yes, of course. Anytime. I’ll just—”
“Okay, bye.” Cora hung up as she pulled into her driveway. Liam’s car was parked in front of her house. She should be glad he was home, but her insides snaked with apprehension. Part of her was so sure he was innocent, but Captain Thompson’s words kept coming back to haunt her. You’re a cheater and a liar. Your track record’s looking pretty dismal right now...
When she walked into the house, Liam was sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of whiskey and a box of Lucky Charms. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them, and his hair was a tufted mess as if he’d been running his hands through it. Stubble shadowed his jawline, and his rumpled clothes looked as if he’d slept in them.
When he saw her, he raised the corner of his mouth in a sardonic smile and lifted the whiskey bottle in salute. “Ah, the beautiful Cora McLeod. Have you come to condemn me, too?” His words were slightly slurred, and his Irish accent was much stronger.
“You’re drunk,” she accused.
Liam gave her a crocodile smile. “Not nearly enough, my love. But I’m hoping my friend—” he glanced at the bottle in his hand “—Jack Daniel’s can help remedy that.” He took a swig of whiskey, swallowed and exhaled with a hum of appreciation. “Ah, that’s good stuff, that is.” He swung his head back to her and beckoned with his free hand. “Come, love. Join me in celebrating my unexpected holiday.”
Cora dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and took the seat across from him. “You could get suspended. It’s hardly a reason to celebrate.”
He regarded her through heavy-lidded eyes. Wild energy emanated from him, and even though he appeared relaxed, he reminded her of a predator from one of those Discovery Channel shows. Not the kind of predator who was on the hunt, but one who was lazily basking in the sun, like a great jungle cat. He might look casual and content, but there was no mistaking the tightly coiled energy lurking beneath. It was unsettling, and maybe she should feel afraid, but for some reason, she didn’t.
“You and I are going to have a talk,” she said evenly. “And you’re not going to leave a single thing out, this time. I want every detail about what you did on Saturday night, no matter how small.”
“Of course, fair Cora.”
“Stop calling me that.”
He smirked. “What? Fair?”
“Your false charm won’t work with me. And you can nix all the ‘my love’ comments, too. I want the truth, Liam. Just the facts.”
Something shifted in the atmosphere between them. His voice went velvety soft, but his hand gripped the neck of the whiskey bottle so hard, Cora could see his knuckles go white. “But those are truths. Those are facts. You are gloriously fair, and you are also my lo—”
“Can you please cut the bullshit for just five minutes?” she interrupted. “In case you haven’t realized, you’re in big trouble, Liam. You might lose your job—and worse—you’re now a suspect in this murder investigation. You could go to prison, and life as you know it will be over.”
He flashed a smile that held no mirth. “This life was never mine to begin with, my heart. I’m on borrowed time as it is.”
She straightened her back. “Explain that. What do you mean? Is someone after you?”
With a deep, rumbling chuckle he said, “The devil, himself, I’d imagine. Drink?” He held out the bottle.
“No,” Cora said through gritted teeth. She wanted to reach across the table and shake him, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Losing her temper wasn’t going to get her answers, especially when he was already arm in arm with his good buddy, Jack Daniel’s. She tried a different approach. “Please, Liam. I want to help you. Can’t you be honest with me and give me the truth?”
Something very close to pain flashed across his face. Cora could hear the clock ticking on the wall, each second like a lead weight adding to the heaviness that surrounded them. He eyed her up and down, then took another swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, his gaze never leaving hers. “I’d give you the world if I could, Cora.”