Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“Maybe,” Ace said. “Don’t want to talk about it.”
Fair enough. Christian didn’t push.
“Come on, Dutch. I’ll walk you out,” Ace said. “I promised Doc May I’d come by so she could check the shoulder I put out last week.”
“That Doc May, she’s a pretty one,” Dutch murmured, his voice trailing off as they walked across the tavern and then out the door.
Brock watched them go. “You think he has a hard-on for the doctor?”
“I don’t know. He does get hurt a lot,” Christian murmured thoughtfully. “I thought he was just being a moron, but maybe he has ulterior motives.” He could respect that. Definitely. Christian’s gaze returned to watch Amka by the bar.
“Can I give you a little advice?” Brock asked.
Christian cocked his head. “Always.”
“You might want to let her in on your plan about keeping her safe from a distance but not being in her life. I find they like to know what you’re thinking.”
Christian folded his arms. “I haven’t formulated the entire plan yet.”
Brock chuckled again and pulled Dutch’s deserted plate toward him to finish the fries. “Like I said, this is definitely going to be fun.” His phone buzzed. He lifted it to his ear. “Yeah. Thanks. Gotcha.” He clicked off and looked up. “The Miller boys finished pulling Amka’s rig from the river earlier while you guys were out scouting.”
“That was the mechanic?” Christian asked.
“Yeah. The brakes were cut.”
Fury tasted like ashes. “Of course.” He’d figured. Still, hearing the truth confirmed settled hard in his gut. “I still can’t figure why anybody would want to kill her.”
“Jarod had to have been into something dangerous, and somehow she’s involved,” Brock said. “I don’t have a lot of pull outside of here, but Dutch does. He should have the background on that idiot soon. I need to ask Amka what she wants to do with the body once the coroner in Anchorage releases it. Officially, she was his fiancée.”
Just then, the doors opened and both Alaska state troopers walked inside, moving immediately toward Amka.
Christian didn’t think. He stood and walked toward her. “What’s going on?”
“We need to bring you in for formal questioning, Amka,” Jeb said. “We’re sorry, but we now have an even better motive for you to have killed Jarod Teller. Let’s go. Now.”
Chapter 30
The room felt colder than it should’ve, like the walls had secrets and wanted her to hear them crack.
Amka sat stiffly in a hard-backed chair that was just slightly too low, her knees awkwardly angled. Her spine ached. Every muscle below her waist reminded her she’d barely slept last night—and exactly why.
Across the table, Jeb folded his hands. Paige didn’t sit. She stood, arms crossed, leaning against the filing cabinet. Amka couldn’t think of them officially since she’d gotten kind of used to them. First names was probably inappropriate, but who cared?
Christian wasn’t there.
Neither was Brock.
They’d been told to wait outside, and the fury on both their faces when she was escorted in without them had scared her more than the actual interview.
“Thanks for coming down voluntarily,” Jeb said, his voice doing that forced-politeness thing that made Amka’s back teeth ache.
Daisy, seated next to her with a legal pad and zero humor, didn’t respond. She’d even dressed like a fancy lawyer in a light green skirt and jacket set with gold jewelry, her thick hair up in a tight bun. “She’s here briefly. Keep that in mind.”
“We’re going to walk through a few things,” Paige said. “Officially, you’re not under arrest.”
Yet. The word wasn’t said, but Amka heard it anyway.
Jeb cleared his throat. “We don’t have autopsy results yet, but I saw Teller’s body, and he was shot in the head by close range. In that truck in your driveway.”
Amka’s stomach dropped.
“But that wasn’t the only trauma.” Jeb crossed his arms. “I observed lacerations and scratches on Teller’s arms and torso. Defensive wounds. From a fight, we believe.”
Amka’s mind blanked completely.
“We’re not saying it was you,” Paige said.
“We’re saying we haven’t ruled you out,” Jeb added, too casually.
“I didn’t scratch him. You all saw us in the bar. We argued, and I may have, um, punched him lightly in the stomach. That didn’t even slow his stride.” She swallowed and stopped talking when Daisy shifted her weight.
Paige took the seat next to her partner, her face softening and looking more at home with the smattering of freckles across her nose. Her red hair was down around her shoulders. “Let me help you, Amka. Did he attack you? Did you have to shoot him to defend yourself?”
Amka’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t shoot Jarod.” He had nearly attacked her a few times, but not the night of his death. “You already know that I spent the night with Christian.”
Jeb sadly shook his head. “We know that’s what you and your lover said. It’s possible you killed Jarod and went to Christian’s. He might be innocent, but if we charge you, he goes down too. He’ll never be an Alaska Wildlife Trooper, at best. At worst, he’s going to prison.”