Page 8 of Fatal Intent
Her eyes flared at the gentle caress. “Grant,” she whispered.
Had he imagined the ache in her voice? What he wouldn’t give to be alone with this woman. They couldn’t consider themselves alone when someone might watch their interaction and listen to their conversation. “We’ll talk later,” he murmured. “Hold on for me.”
Between one heartbeat and the next, Rayne shifted from the woman he wanted to the Artemis operative playing a role foran unseen audience. A teasing smile curved her lips. “I’ve heard that from you before, Mr. Bowen. Will you disappoint me this time?”
“Not a chance, Ms. Weatherly. I know the best thing to happen to me is in my arms.” His voice grew husky. “I’ll never let you down.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
The door to the interrogation room opened, and the detectives tasked with solving Selena’s murder entered. “We need to talk,” Short detective said.
CHAPTER THREE
WITH HIS LEGpressed against hers, Rayne felt Grant’s leg muscles tighten. Under the table, she laid her hand on top of his fist and smiled at the short detective. “How about an introduction first? I’d like to know who will interrogate me.”
Tall detective scowled. “Who said anything about an interrogation?”
“Oh, come on, Detective. You know Grant and I used to be on the job. You might call this an interview, but we know the score. We want to know your names.” Especially when they talked to the lawyer Fortress sent to help them out of this jam.
Tall detective said, “I’m Peter Sanders. This is my partner, Nathan Conner.”
“Rayne Weatherly. This is Grant Bowen.” She tightened her hold on Grant’s fist. “Since we’ve been properly introduced now, how can we help with your case?”
“Answer our questions,” Conner snapped.
“Let’s hear them.”
“That’s not how this works.” Sanders glanced at his partner. “Take Ms. Weatherly next door. I’ll take Mr. Bowen.”
“No,” Grant said flatly. “We stay together.”
“Hiding behind your girlfriend, Bowen?” Conner sneered.
“Insulting us won’t reap the results you want.”
Sanders held up his hand to hold off his partner’s response. “Look, we all want the same thing. Answers. You used tobe a cop. You know procedure says we interview suspects separately.”
“Not this time unless you want to wait for our lawyer to arrive.”
The detectives scowled. They looked at each other, then came to a silent agreement. “All right,” Sanders said. “We’ll play it your way for now. However, if either of you interferes with the other’s answers, we do it the old-fashioned way.”
“Fair enough. Ask your questions,” Rayne said. “We’ll answer what we can.” Definitely not as much as the detectives would like. She knew only what she’d pieced together. She and Grant hadn’t been able to talk, a deliberate action by law enforcement.
“How well did you know Selena Baker?” Sanders asked Grant.
“We dated for a while.”
“How long exactly?”
“Four months.”
“You were close.”
“I thought we were.” His lips curled. “Turns out I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Selena was sleeping with my former best friend.”
