Page 29 of Outlaw Ridge: Ryker
Charlotte Ross is here for her interview.
Emma blinked. “She’s early. An hour early.”
Ryker leaned in to glance at the screen. “Guess she couldn’t wait to explain that smirk.”
Emma typed a quick reply.Ryker and I are on our way.
She stood, setting the half-eaten ice cream aside, her focus snapping back into place like a switch had flipped. The heat between them cooled, tucked neatly beneath layers of that kickass cop.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Ryker was already on his feet, grabbing his coat without another word.
Emma stopped by the kitchen so she could slide the pint of ice cream back into the freezer. It was still half full, though the comfort it had offered was already a distant memory. She pulled on her coat, the heavy black one she kept near the door, and grabbed her keys from the hook without breaking her stride.
They went through the garage, the door lifting with a mechanical groan as she unlocked her SUV. The cold hit her face as they stepped outside, sharp and biting despite the pale morning sun bleeding through the clouds. The sleet had stoppedsometime in the early hours, and the streets were no longer slick, but the air still carried winter’s edge.
She drove, Ryker in the passenger seat, both of them running on too little sleep and too many unanswered questions.
It was just before 8 a.m., and Outlaw Ridge was only starting to wake up. The roads were mostly empty, just a few early risers in trucks or bundled-up pedestrians waiting for the coffee shop and diner to open.
Emma kept her hands steady on the wheel, her thoughts already jumping ahead to what Charlotte might say, ornotsay.
They pulled into the police station lot a few minutes later, the building already buzzing with early shift activity. Deputies moved in and out of the lobby, the air inside thick with the scent of coffee, conversation, and something like tension.
Jesse McCain met them just inside the squad room, a to-go cup in one hand and a dry look in his eyes. “She’s in Interview Room One.”
Emma nodded. “Thanks.”
Jesse took a sip of his coffee, then added, “Might want to put on flak jackets. She’s not in a good mood.”
Emma exchanged a glance with Ryker. “Perfect,” she muttered. “Let’s go make it worse.”
Emma pushed open the door to Interview Room One with Ryker just behind her.
Charlotte Ross sat at the table, arms crossed, a deep scowl carved into her face like it had taken root overnight. Her dark coat was draped over the back of the chair, and her eyes were sharp, bloodshot, maybe from lack of sleep, maybe from pure, concentrated fury.
What caught Emma off guard was whatwasn’tthere. No lawyer. No legal rep. Nothing but Charlotte and her temper.
Emma closed the door behind them. “No attorney?”
Charlotte’s glare didn’t waver. “Don’t need one. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Emma kept her expression neutral, but the surprise still prickled at her. She’d been sure Charlotte would walk in with backup, ready to throw up walls. The fact that she hadn’t… it either meant confidence or desperation. Maybe both.
Charlotte opened her mouth to snap something else, but Emma raised a hand.
“Hang on.”
She walked to the small table in the corner, pressed the button on the wall-mounted recorder, and began speaking in a clear, measured tone.
“This is Deputy Emma Bonetti with Deputy Ryker Caldwell. The time is 8:02 a.m. on March third. We’re conducting a voluntary interview with Charlotte Ross regarding the ongoing investigation, including the discovery of a deceased individual and related threats. Interview taking place at the Outlaw Ridge Police Department, Interview Room One.”
Emma turned, walked to the table, and sat. Ryker did the same.
Charlotte’s glare didn’t move an inch.
Emma slid a Miranda warning card from her folder and read the rights aloud, calm and practiced. Charlotte’s jaw tightened with every word, her stare burning hotter with each sentence.
