Page 19 of Chilled

Nick smiled. “You’re a smart man, Mr. Olsen. I like that.”

Brenna couldn’t help admiring the way Nick appeared relaxed and friendly, but she could tell beneath the surface he remained alert, completely attuned to the man across the table.

Bart was even relaxing and dropping his guard.

Nick was good at his job.

Brenna could appreciate that quality in any law enforcement official, even the FBI. But she couldn’t lie to herself and say she didn’t find everything about his looks attractive, from the black as night hair to the angular lines of his face. He looked like he could chew on nails with that jaw, and the determination in his green eyes gave her no doubt that if he wanted to, he could.

But the way he made his interviewee relax and feel like he was his friend interested her more. He’d have Olsen spilling everything he knew before long.

A thrill of awareness sped through her body, and she quickly tamped it down. Who had time for useless emotion where her team lead was concerned, or for the baser instincts of lust? She needed to focus on the suspect and solving the murder of an innocent woman, and possibly two more.

Nick leaned forward. “Do you know anyone who can place you at your cabin for the entire weekend?”

“No. In case you didn’t notice—” Bart tipped his head toward the barred window, “—the weather sucks around here. Not many people want to go to the lake under these conditions.”

“Some do.” He nodded at Bart. “Like you. Did you have any friends visit at your cabin?”

“I ain’t had no one visit me at my cabin or my apartment in town since I spent time in jail. I’m like the freakin’ plague.” He kicked the table leg and glared at Nick. “It’s all her fault, you know.” Bart lurched to his feet.

In one smooth, graceful glide Nick rose up and away from Bart, his stance ready for anything, though he did not appear nervous.

But Bart turned and paced across the floor. “If it weren’t for that Agent Jensen, I wouldn’t be a suspect for those missing women. That’s what all this is about, right?”

Brenna’s heart slammed into her ribcage.

“What do you mean?” Nick asked quietly.

“Nothing. I don’t mean nothing.” Bart dropped into the chair, his brows drawing low over his eyes.

Melissa leaned over Brenna’s shoulder. “Still want to interview this guy?”

“I don’t recommend it,” Paul said. “Not after that outburst.”

Ignoring them, Brenna concentrated on Olsen and Tarver.

Nick stood, planted his hands on the table and leaned into the other man’s face. “What are you hiding, Bart?”

A chill raced through Brenna’s blood. She’d probably tell Nick anything he wanted to hear if he asked her like that.

Not Bart. “I ain’t saying another word until my lawyer gets here.” He sat staring straight ahead, his lips pressed together. The man was done. After several trips to the courtroom, he knew the system, and he’d take full advantage of his legal rights.

“I guess I won’t be interviewing Mr. Olsen,” Brenna said to the chief and the agents in the room. “At least not until his attorney arrives.” A part of her was relieved. She should have expected the animosity Bart had for her, but hearing the loathing in his voice sent shivers across her skin. And her instincts told her Bart was hiding something—but was he the killer?

Without evidence, she couldn’t be certain.

CHAPTER 6

After Bart Olsenwas moved to a holding cell, the team of investigators convened in the war room. Brenna riffled through the file of statements the police officers had gathered so far. There had to be something there, a clue they’d overlooked.

“So, do you think he did it?” Paul asked.

“Hard to tell,” Nick said. “He’s guilty of violating his parole, but I’m not convinced he killed Dr. Drummond.”

Chief Burkholder stepped into the room, his face looking older than his fifty-nine years, his skin tinged gray. “Brenna.” This was the first time since he’d introduced her to the FBI agents that he’d called her by her first name.

Brenna broke out in a cold sweat, dropping the papers in her hands to join the chief by the door. “What is it?”

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