Page 13 of Hitched

“I’m sure you know that already, seeing as you knew I was here. Don’t play coy with me, Laney.”

I walk towards him, away from the door, looking at the cheap watercolor portraits of trees and bicycles hanging on the shabby walls. Caleb sits on a couch that looks like it’s circa nineteen seventy-five, with wooden armrests and torn leather. The stuffing is hanging out of one side so badly if someone sat down aggressively, it would fall out like someone squeezing a tube of toothpaste. “I assume by your lax answer that you don’t have an alibi.”

He sighs and sinks back further into the couch. “She’s not willing to corroborate on account that her husband will find out.”

I look at him, disgusted. “You’re a fucking pig.”

“I’m an honest one, at least.” He combs a hand through his dirty hair. “Besides, why the fuck do you care.”

“I don’t care. I’m just shocked that you’d admit to sleeping with a married woman.”

“More so than if I admitted to murder?” He asks, and I can tell that he’s growing short on patience, which is exactly what I’m going for.

“Are you admitting to murder?”

He lets out a long breath of air. “What do you want, Laney.” He says, rubbing his eyes. “I’m surprised that bitch let you in.”

“You said that you aren’t being detained. You’re free to have whatever guest in here that you want. Frankly, I’m surprised that your attorney isn’t present.”

“She was here earlier, in case you’re keeping score. In fact, now that I think about it, that’s probably why you were let in.” He looks me up and down, matter-of-factly. “You’re wearing the same goddamn suit that she’s wearing.”

I don’t know whether to be insulted or to laugh. So, I just guffaw and take a seat on the couch, on the opposite end. “So, what happened?” I ask in the most insinuating tone, contempt laced all over. “Did you fuck her and then slice her throat, or was that all part of the act?”

He draws in another breath, cupping his face with his hands, and he speaks on exhale. “Sure, Laney. I fucked her brains out, right after Chas did, only I didn’t know that she’d been with Chas, and in a fit of jealous rage, I offed her with my hunting knife.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Only I don’t hunt, except for when I’m in Scotland, and I don’t have a hunting knife here. I also don’t use a knife when I’m hunting, I use a rifle. Anything else you want to know, Laney? My lady lawyer, your twin, will be back here any second, so why don’t you toddle off and go find someone else to harass?”

“Is that what you told your lady lawyer?” I tease. “And why did she leave you, huh? To go take a shower?”

He looks at me like I just called his da a cocksucker. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Why do you keep dodging my questions?” I say with a mirthless smile.

“Why do I need to answer to you, anyway? It’s none of your fucking business, and frankly, this is harassment. Why don’t you go pick on Chas? He’s a billionaire, too, man, and he could have offed her just as easily as I could have.”

I lean back and speak conversationally, letting my shoe bounce off the end of my toe. “Chas isn’t the murdering type. Those Ford boys are too pretty. He wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty.”

“I think you’re wrong about that, Laney.”

I look at him. “What am I wrong about?”

“Everything.”

“And the vaguest answer of the year award goes to…”

He looks at me. “I don’t have to answer to you, Laney.” His eyes scan me, down my shirt, to my breasts, giving me a thrill, when those types of glances from men don’t usually make me squirm. Suddenly I feel empowered. Like my sexuality really does carry some clout here. I almost chide myself for thinking this, but the odd sensation can’t be helped. I never noticed how fucking sexy Caleb Harris is, and I hate myself for even noticing it. What’s worse is he’s dirty, and still smells sickly sweet from drinking last night, but that only adds fuel to the flame that starts burning inside me. Trying to avert my gaze to hide it from him, I look away, but it’s too late. His voice is low, sultry, when he speaks. “You really don’t hate me as much as you make like you do, do you, Laney.”

What happens next questions every moral fiber in my body.

Chapter 5

Caleb

Laney showing up came as a shock, at first, until I figured out her reason for being here. She came to play. In what sense, I discover about five minutes in, and I test that theory pretty fast. The look in her eyes says that she’s going to eat me for breakfast, like she did last night at the bar, but then her gaze cowers from mine, surprising me. She’s vulnerable. Why, I don’t know, since I’m the guy here for a murder investigation. But then, as my gaze sears through hers, it’s like I mentally tear her down. Or at least, that’s what I think, until I test that theory.

When my eyes go to her lips, she pulls back slightly. “Caleb, don’t even try it.”

“Try what.” I say, voice low and intentionally sultry.

“I have no interest in you.”

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