Page 107 of Liar's Point

Emmet’s attention perked up. “The DNA came back?”

“This is on the other thing,” Brady said. “The Danielle Ward case.”

Adam looked blank. “Danielle who?”

“The traffic fatality from Tuesday,” Emmet said. “The woman who hit the utility pole downtown.” He glanced at the chief, and Brady’s grim look put Emmet on alert. “What’s the problem?”

“Sounds like it wasn’t an accident,” Brady said. “The crime lab says someone tampered with her brakes.”

***

I need food.”

Nicole glanced at Owen and sighed.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked. “We skipped lunch.”

“I’m good.” She was still full from homemade pancakes. “But if you’re hungry, we can stop.”

Owen was already pulling into the vacant lot beside a construction site on Seaside Boulevard. They were putting up another condominium complex, and several food trucks had set up shop.

Owen shoved the car into park. “Want anything? My treat.”

“I’m good.”

“Be right back.”

He slid out and got in line with a handful of construction workers in yellow hard hats.

Nicole checked her phone, anxious for reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She had messages from Siena and her brother, along with several from her mom, who wanted to know if she was getting any rest this afternoon. Clearly, her mother assumed she was off today, and Nicole didn’t tell her otherwise.

Nothing from Emmet since 10:20 a.m. when he’d responded to her Thanks for your help last night message with a thumbs-up emoji.

An emoji.

No words. No acknowledgment that he’d spent the night in her bed or that he’d woken her up to give her her pill in the middle of the night. If it hadn’t been for the empty beer bottle in her recycling bin this morning, Nicole might have thought she imagined the whole thing, including their earth-tilting kiss.

Another wave of guilt hit her at the thought of David. She tried to shake it off. He hadn’t even seemed all that upset by their conversation. Instead, he’d been... mildly annoyed—which just reinforced her ongoing impression that his heart hadn’t been in it. And if she was honest, hers hadn’t been either.

Owen slid back in the car with a pair of foil-wrapped tacos, and their unmarked police unit instantly smelled like grilled onions.

“Sure you don’t want one?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

He unwrapped a taco and tore open a salsa packet.

“Brady just pinged me,” Owen said. “He wants me to lead up the new homicide case.”

Irritation needled her.

“Why not Emmet?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t he think they’re linked?”

Owen chomped into his taco. “I don’t know what he thinks. All I got was a text message.” He chewed his food, watching her. “You think the cases are connected?”

---