“Wow, I thought it’d be way worse than that.” He gave a sheepish laugh.
I smiled. “Were you expecting bamboo under the fingernails?”
He stood. “I definitely thought you’d be way harder on me.”
“Well, you were cooperative, so I didn’t need to put the screws to you.” I also got to my feet. “If I think of anything else I need to ask you, I’ll let you know. But for now, you’re free to go.”
“Great. Thanks, Sheriff.” He left the room quickly, almost as if he was afraid I’d change my mind.
Glancing at my watch, I saw that my interview with Michael Raiden was looming. I went to the refrigerator in the breakroom and grabbed a cold bottle of water. I’d definitely had enough caffeine for one day. I returned to my office to put my feet up for a bit, and my thoughts wandered to Max.
I hadn’t seen him before he’d left for work this morning, and I wondered how he was doing. Yesterday had been traumatic for all involved. I wanted to check on him but didn’t want to bother him at work. I’d catch up with him later tonight, if I could get out of here at a halfway reasonable hour.
I also still needed to make up my mind whether I was gonna hang on to Kobe or release him. While he still seemed like the most obvious suspect, I’d need more evidence if I was going to convince the DA to charge him with murder.
As if the universe was reading my mind, my email dinged, indicating a message. I was excited to see the email was from the ME. I scanned the long report, stopping at the mention of the victim having a black eye. I’d noticed bruising around Archie’s eye socket yesterday but hadn’t been confident that I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. The ME had now confirmed that Archie had indeed sustained a black eye shortly before his death.
There was a knock on my door. “Come in,” I called out.
Deputy Dusty opened the door to my office. “I put Michael Raiden in interview room two.” He raised his brows. “And for the record, he does not look happy.”
I sighed. “Awesome. Another satisfied citizen.”
“Everybody wants you to solve the murder, but nobody wants to be questioned. They don’t seem to understand how this works.”
“Agreed. Thanks for letting me know, Dusty.”
He patted the doorframe. “You bet.” He left the room.
With a tired grunt, I stood, gathered my notepad, and headed to interview room two. When I entered the room, Michael looked flushed and surly. He was a burly man who managed to make the interview room shrink from his bristling presence. His silver hair was shaved in a buzz cut, no doubt a nod to his days as a Marine. I’d never had any problems with him, but then again, we didn’t really run in the same circles. Today, he looked anything but happy to see me.
“I appreciate you coming in, Mr. Raiden,” I said politely.
From across the table, he studied me. His dark eyes were resentful and his face tense. “I find it ridiculous that you think you need to question me and my family,” he growled.
Yeah, he’s pissed.
“I’m just doing my job, Mr. Raiden.” I kept my voice as pleasant as possible.
He scowled. “You know Kobe did it. I don’t know why you’re putting on this dog-and-pony show. It’s very obvious who killed Archie.”
“I need actual evidence to arrest someone. At the moment, I don’t have nearly enough to say for sure Kobe did anything to Archie.”
His mouth thinned. “You must be kidding.”
“No.”
“You’re wasting taxpayers’ money. It’s Kobe, and you know it is. I demand you arrest him immediately and stop hounding me and my family.”
“I’m not hounding anybody. I’m just asking questions.”
“I disagree. I insist you stop this ridiculous waste of time.”
Irritation prickled me, and I leaned toward him. I wasn’t going to let him bully me from doing my job. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Oh, really?” he snapped.
“Yeah,really.” I straightened, holding his surly gaze. “Now, let’s talk about the argument you had with Archie right before he died. Shall we?”