“Murder,” the redhead repeated, growing more furious by the second. She made the only logical conclusion. “You think I murdered someone?” she cried, stunned. “And just who is it I was supposed to have murdered?” When Finn didn’t answer her immediately, she pounced on him. “C’mon, you can’t just throw something like that out and then leave me hanging in suspense, Finn. Just who was it that you think I murdered?”
Unable to remain silent any longer, his hands fisted at his sides, Carson pinned her with a damning look as he answered her question. “Bo. You murdered Bo and then you stuffed a cummerbund into his mouth.”
“Bo,” she repeated in noncomprehension. And then, for a moment, Demi turned very pale. Her eyes flicked from Bo’s brother to her cousin. “Bo’s dead?” she asked hoarsely.
It was half a question, half a statement uttered in total disbelief.
Then, not waiting for an answer, what had become known in the county as Demi’s famous temper flared, and she jumped up to her feet, her fists banging down on the tabletop.
“You think I killed Bo?” she demanded incredulously, fury flashing in her eyes. “Sure,” she said mockingly. “Makes perfect sense to me. The man’s dead so let’s blame it on the woman he dumped—EXCEPT I DIDN’T DO IT!” she yelled, her angry gaze sweeping over her cousin and her former fiancé’s brother.
“Sit down, Demi,” Finn ordered sternly. “And calm down.”
Instead of listening to her cousin and taking her seat again, Demi Colton remained standing, a firecracker very close to going off in a flash of fireworks.
“No, I will not calm down,” she cried. “And unless you have some kind of concrete evidence against me—” she said, staring straight at her cousin.
“How about Bo writing your name on the asphalt in his own blood?” Finn said. “Demi C.”
Demi paled for a moment. “The killer is framing me?”
Finn raised an eyebrow.
Demi gave him a smug look. “Just as I thought. You don’t have any sort of actual evidence against me. Okay, I’m out of here,” Demi declared.
“You’ll leave when I tell you to leave,” Finn told her sternly. Rising from his chair on the opposite side of the table, he loomed over her.
“Do you have any evidence against me, other than my name written in Bo’s blood and the fact that I had the bad judgment to have been engaged to the jerk for a month?” she asked, looking from her cousin to the other man in the room.
Though it obviously killed him, Finn was forced to say, “No, but—”
Triumph filled her eyes. “There is no ‘but’ here,” Demi retorted. “You have nothing to hold me on, that means I’m free to go. So I’m going.” Her eyes swept over her cousin and Carson. “Gentlemen, it has definitely not been a pleasure.”
And with that, she swept past them to the interrogation room door like a queen taking leave of a pair of disloyal subjects.
Finn shook his head as his cousin stormed out. “Hell of a lot of nerve,” he muttered under his breath.
“As I recall, Demi was never the sweet, retiring type. If she was, she would have never become a bounty hunter,” Carson told him.
Finn blew out a breath. “You have a point.” He walked out of the interrogation room with Carson directly behind him. “Well, check out her alibi, talk to anyone who might have seen her,” the chief said, addressing the victim’s brother. “I’m open to any further suggestions.”
Carson looked at his boss in mild surprise. “I thought you made it clear that I wasn’t allowed to work on my brother’s case.” Although, he thought, since Finn could work on the case in which his cousin was a suspect, he should be allowed to investigate his brother’s murder.
“Technically, you’re not,” Finn said as they walked out into the main squad room. “But I’m not an idiot, Gage. You’re going to work this whether I give you my blessing or not.” He stopped just before his office. “So you have any ideas where to start?”
He’d been thinking about this ever since he’d found Bo’s body. The fact that Bo had written Demi’s name seemed pretty damning to him, but he didn’t want to discount the slim possibility that someone else had killed his brother.
It didn’t warm his heart to have to admit this, but in all fairness, he had to. “Well, it’s common knowledge that Demi wasn’t the only woman Bo romanced and then dumped. I’d say that there were a whole lot of women who’d love to have seen Bo get what was coming to him. And that includes a number of disgruntled husbands and boyfriends, as well. Why don’t we start talking to them?”
That Bo was a playboy wasn’t exactly news to anyone. Finn frowned. “But would any of them actually resort to murder?”
Carson shrugged. Nothing jumped out at him, but this needed closer examination. “Only one way to find out,” he told his boss.
“I agree,” Finn responded. “Make up a list. Meanwhile, I’m going to have some of the boys go over the crime scene with a fine-tooth comb, see if someone missed anything just in case. Although the ground’s undoubtedly been trampled on,” he commented.
Carson nodded grimly. “Nobody ever said that solving crimes was easy. I can swing by my place, pick up Justice,” he said, referring to his K-9 partner. “See if maybe he can pick up a scent.”
“After you put that list together,” Finn told the detective.
Carson headed over to his desk. Given the hour, the squad room was practically empty. “Will do,” he told the chief.
“Oh, and, Gage?” Finn called after him.
Carson turned around, expecting further orders. “Yeah, Chief?”
“I’m really sorry for your loss.”
The words were standard-issue, said over and over again in so many instances that they sounded numbingly routine, yet he felt that Finn really meant them.
“Yeah, me, too,” Carson answered stoically, then added, “Thanks.”
* * *
Carson had just finished making a preliminary list of all the women he could remember Bo having had any romantic encounters with over the last several years when J.D. Edwards, one of the crime scene investigators, came into the squad room. J.D. looked excited.
Temporarily forgetting about the list he’d just compiled, Carson crossed over to the man. J.D., in turn, had just cornered Finn.
“You’re going to want to hear this,” the investigator was saying to Finn.
The chief, seeing Carson, nodded at him, indicating that he join them. Carson was all ears.
“What have you got?” Finn asked.
“Lots,” J.D. answered. “First off, I found this under a wheel near where the body was found.” He held up a sealed plastic evidence bag. The bag contained a necklace with a gold heart charm.
Finn squinted as he looked at the necklace. “That looks familiar.”
“It should be,” the investigator said. “It belongs to—”
“Demi,” Carson said, recognizing the gold heart. “That’s her necklace.”
“And that’s not all,” J.D. informed them. The investigator paused for effect before announcing, “We’ve got a witness who says he saw Demi Colton running in the shadows around 6:45 p.m. near The Pour House.”
“Six forty-five,”