Page 58 of Crossing Paths
A few weeks earlier, Norah might’ve been intimidated by the man’s authority and size, but steady exposure to the much bigger and gruffer Dash had inured her to large, scary men—even ones who could potentially arrest her.
“What is?” She cocked her head while holding his gaze. “That Bruiser isn’t mad about me spending time with Dash?”
“That the same guy who allegedly interrupts a burglary in progress at your neighbor’s house is the one you’re boning less than a week later when his apartment is torched.”
“We’re not boning,” Norah rushed to say. Not that she would mind if they were, but it felt a bit like stolen valor. They’d only kissed so far—as intense and amazing as those kisses had been—but she didn’t want to take undeserved credit for luring Dash into bed when it hadn’t happened…yet. Just the idea of it made her skin feel hot again. “We were just sitting on his couch and talking. There was no boning.”
Detective Mill broke his stone-faced expression to roll his eyes. “Fine. The guy you weretalking towhile the two of you were alone in his apartment. Still a pretty huge coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Not really?” Norah responded, but it came out sounding tentative.
“I think you’re forgetting again how small Langston is,” Molly chimed in, and Norah was grateful for the assist. “You’re used to Denver. Around here, we’re tripping over the same people all the time, especially in our line of work.”
“And it’s not like I hadn’t noticed Dash before I saw him at the neighbor’s,” Norah burst out, not sure if what she was saying was helpful or not, but her nerves didn’t let her hold it in. “I mean, have you seen his hands? They’re very…sinewy.”
Cara’s stifled laugh sounded more like a choke this time as Molly turned her head away to stare at the porch floor. Norah had a suspicion that if the detective wasn’t there glaring at them, they’d be rolling on the ground, laughing their heads off.
Still, she couldn’t stop talking. “The whole thing at Mr. P’s house gave us a topic of conversation. Things…escalated from there.” She forced her lips to clamp shut before the truth untwisted into something that didn’t fit the story they were spinning for Mill’s benefit.
Despite the embarrassment it caused her, Norah’s babbling seemed to have worked to convince Mill—or at least to make the detective uncomfortable enough with the topic to change his line of questioning.
“Who was behind the alleged attack last night?” he asked.
All her earlier flustered feelings evaporated at that word. “It wasn’t anallegedattack,” she said fiercely. The heat warming her chest wasn’t an embarrassed flush anymore. It was sheer rage. “Dash has a huge bump on the back of his head and a torched apartment to prove it. He had to stay at Bruiser’s house last night since his place is all sooty and smoky…and a crime scene.” She’d offered him a bed at her house, but the cops had kept him on the scene for questioning much longer than they had her, so he’d declined and sent her home after a final hard squeeze and kiss pressed to her temple.
“Fine.” He raised a hand as if warding off more verbal attacks. “Who was behind the…attack last night?”
With some effort, she ignored that taunting pause beforeattack. “I don’t know.”
“You must have some suspicions.”
“Of course.” She raised her shoulders in a shrug, suddenly feeling exhausted by everything that had happened, and the craziness showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. “Zach Fridley, the guy he stopped in the middle of a burglary, is out on bail.”
“Anyone else?” Mill actually sounded genuinely interested in her answer rather than just hoping he’d trip her up and trick her into telling him the truth.
“Devon Leifsen.” This wasn’t anything she hadn’t told the officers who’d questioned her the night before. “He’s one of the skips we’re after. He likes to hack into my computer and send me creepy messages with lots of menacing smiley faces.”
Detective Mill raised an eyebrow.
She shrugged a little at his unspoken comment. “Yeah, he doesn’t seem like the type to throw rocks and bottle bombs into someone’s apartment, but he made it clear he doesn’t like seeing me with other guys.” She decided to leave out the note he’d slid into her pocket at Dutch’s, since she had been supposedly still seeing Bruiser at that time. “Stalkers can be unpredictable.”
As if on cue, a white Lexus rolled up to the curb in front of their house. Norah had been so distracted by Mill’s questions she hadn’t even seen the car approaching. When Laken Albee popped out of the driver’s seat, Norah didn’t know if she should groan in dismay or cheer the interruption. It was almost impossible to choose whether she’d rather talk to the detective or her junior high bully.Neither, she decided firmly. She really was too tired and sore to deal with either.
“Norah! There you are!” Laken waved enthusiastically over the top of her car as if seeing Norah on the porch of the house where she lived was a wonderful surprise.
“Who’s that?” Mill asked as both Molly and Cara gave low groans.
“Just an old acquaintance,” Norah said, not really wanting to get into her school-aged traumas with the suspicious detective. “I can get rid of her if you have more questions for me?” It was a close call, but talking to Mill wasslightlyless heinous than having to deal with Laken’s transparently fake affection.
Mill studied her for a long moment before tucking his small notebook in his shirt pocket. “If I do, I’ll stop back again.” It was as if he knew she was dying to find a reason to dismiss Laken and refused to do her any kind of solid. “You’re notfar from the station. As you said”—he gave Molly a mocking nod—“Langston is a small town.” Turning, he walked down the porch steps.
“You okay dealing with her?” Molly muttered quietly as her eyes shot lasers at the pair passing on the walkway. “I want to call John and fill him in on all this.”
“Same,” Cara said, glaring just as hard as the detective reached his car and Laken approached the porch steps. “Only Henry, not John.”
“Glad you’re not trying to steal my man.”
Cara snorted at Molly’s joking comment. “As if he’d ever look away from you long enough to even see another woman. Even if he did, Henry’s plenty for me. I’m not greedy.”
