Mountain Witness

He smiled. “We’re hiding more from my boss than from your ADA. I’m on administrative leave, which means I’m not even supposed to talk to you.”

“But you want answers, like you said at the station.”

He nodded.

“You aren’t too good at following orders, are you?”

“Not when I’m shut out of a case where I had to kill a man.”

She swallowed and looked away.

“Look,” he said. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. For now, we’re just escaping the inquisition back there and getting a good night’s sleep. As a bonus, I ensure that Nelson doesn’t whisk you off to Nashville overnight.”

She stood on the first step, then moved up one more, making her almost eye level with him.

“You seem to think that if Kathy tells me to do something, I jump to do it. What gave you that impression?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s more that she drove three hours to come to your rescue. Allowing you to talk anymore to us would have pretty much defeated the purpose in her driving down here. Lawyers don’t want their clients to talk. Ever.”

He took the stairs two at a time and paused at the door.

When she joined him there, he added, “This place has the best security around. No one is going to sneak up on you while you’re here. You’re safe.”

Her lips parted in surprise.

He shook his head, exasperated. “Did you really think I was buying the picture that Nelson was painting? It’s as obvious as the day is long that you’re both hiding something, holding something back. And if you moved to Destiny just to hide from your husband, or little high school-type pranks, you wouldn’t still be scared.”

She stiffened. “What makes you think I’m scared?”

He glanced at her hands, which she was twisting together.

She jerked them apart, her face flushing again.

“I guess the real question is whether Nelson knows whatever secrets you’re hiding.”

Her expression went blank, as if she’d thrown up a wall. He’d been fishing, but now he knew for sure that she really was hiding something. What could she be hiding that even her ADA friend didn’t know about? And why?

She looked at the truck as if debating whether to demand that he take her back to town. Sensing that if he pushed her on it, if he argued to get her to stay, that she’d push back and demand to leave, he remained silent and waited.

“Your friends Dillon and Ashley—they know we’re here? You have keys to the house?”

In answer, he separated the keys on his key ring and held up one. “If Dillon is awake, he knows. The security system texted him our picture as soon as we turned down the private road to the farm.”

Her eyes widened.

“I’m sure they don’t mind,” he continued. “But I’ll call in the morning and explain the situation.”

“Okay, then. I’ll stay. Just for the night.”

He unlocked the door and waved her inside before she could change her mind.

Chapter Eight

Of all the reckless, crazy things that Julie had ever done, sneaking off with Detective Chris Downing was probably the most outrageous and stupid. She couldn’t believe that she’d had the gumption to tiptoe out of the conference room, pausing only briefly as he whispered to his SWAT team members, and then getting into his pickup truck.

When he’d handed her that tissue in the conference room to wipe her tears, it was as if they were co-conspirators, the two of them against the world. And she’d been just desperate enough to take the lifeline that he’d offered, tricking herself into believing that he was someone she could trust. He’d been what she’d needed most at that very moment—someone to lean on, someone who would keep her safe, be a friend, if only for one night.

She was such a fool.

They had a truce, more or less, but she knew the limits. The moment she got up tomorrow he’d probably barrage her with questions, and she wouldn’t have Kathy here to deflect them. She might as well have stayed at the police station.

As she followed him inside, he paused beside a beeping security alarm keypad and keyed in the security code, disabling it. After locking the door, he set the alarm again and waved his hand to encompass the large open room.

“This is it,” he said. “Dillon took down most of the walls to give it an open floor plan. As you can see, the kitchen is on the back left. Feel free to grab something if you’re thirsty or hungry.”

She nodded, noting the granite-topped island that separated the kitchen from the great room. A straight staircase was in front of them, with a small dark hallway opening behind it on the main floor. The room was an eclectic mix of masculine and feminine touches, with dark chunky wood furniture softened by pastel throws and pillows, and rugs scattered across the hardwood floor.

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