Page 64 of Liar's Point

She stared at him, frustration welling inside her as she thought about how much time she had wasted not only searching for this man but going over his bullshit story to figure out how it aligned with established facts. She imagined slapping her handcuffs on the table and threatening to charge him with obstructing a police investigation.

He’d probably piss his nice pants.

She smiled and shook her head. Then she pushed her chair back and stood. “You know what? I appreciate you coming in, Mr.Wakefield. You’ve been helpful.”

He stood up, looking confused. “So... that’s it?”

“That’s it. Thanks for setting the record straight.”

***

Emmet walked into Finn’s and scanned the crowd. Owen and Kyle were at a high-top table in back, and Kyle spotted him as he made his way through the bar.

“Hey, you made it,” Kyle said.

Owen looked Emmet over. “You just getting off work?”

“Yeah. Where’s Nicole?”

“I don’t know. Home, I think.”

“Have a beer with us,” Kyle said.

Emmet checked his phone as he took an empty stool.

“Any luck with the roommate?” Owen asked him.

“No.”

Aubrey’s roommate, Lauren, had no idea where Sam Pacheco worked or lived, or if he even lived on the island. She claimed she’d never heard his full name before tonight.

Owen shook his head. “This case, man.”

“I know.”

They’d been working every angle, and they didn’t even have a solid suspect. The best lead so far was some ex-boyfriend—who may not have even been on the island last weekend, much less anywhere near the victim.

“Any news from Miranda?” Emmet asked.

Owen shook his head. “No. She told Nicole it might be Friday before they get anything back on the DNA.”

“I thought she put a rush on it?”

“She did.”

A server appeared at the table and flashed a flirty smile. “Y’all want some drinks?” she asked, resting her tray on her hip.

“I’ll have a Shiner,” Kyle said.

“One for me, too,” Owen said. “And one for my brother.”

Emmet ordered a beer and glanced at Owen as the server walked off. “Joel’s coming?”

“Joel? No way. He’s neck-deep in task force shit. Alex is on his way.”

As he said this, Alex Breda stepped over.

“I ordered you a beer,” Owen told him.

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