Physical Evidence. Debra Webb
“It’s all right.” He patted her back as she started to cry softly against his chest. Her damp cheek felt warm against his bare skin. His arms tightened around her of their own volition, and Mitch closed his eyes in a futile attempt to ignore the mistake he was making.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood that way, holding her close and whispering soothing sounds in her ear, but eventually reality dragged him to his senses.
Alex Preston was a suspect and the only witness he had to a murder, making this behavior completely unprofessional. He’d already been fooled once.
Mitch drew back, prying the clinging woman from his chest in the process. Her arms folded around her waist, hugging herself as her body quaked uncontrollably. He doubted she’d eaten anything all day. He had to get her comfortable and evaluate her condition further before he could question her. And then he’d have to call Ashton, but Mitch had every intention of putting that off for as long as possible.
“I’ll tell you what, let’s get you cleaned up and find something to eat. Then we’ll straighten all this out. What do you say?”
She swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands and nodded weakly. “Thank you.”
He clenched his jaw against the protective feelings surging inside him. He couldn’t say she was welcome. Hell, he shouldn’t be doing this. Mitch took her by the arm and led her to the hall bathroom. “Wash your hands and face,” he instructed, “and I’ll get you some clothes.”
She obeyed without question. She definitely wasn’t herself. He might not know her well, but he knew that much. The Alex Preston he’d argued with was strong and self-reliant, not the submissive type at all.
Mitch hurried to his room and rounded up a T-shirt and a pair of running shorts that tied at the waist. Right now wasn’t the time to analyze why he hadn’t already called in and reported finding her to the dispatcher, or the reason she’d chosen his house in which to take refuge. Chief Lowden would be annoyed that Mitch hadn’t called him right away. But he had questions for Alex first. Questions that couldn’t wait.
At least that was what he kept telling himself to justify putting off what he knew he should do. He paused outside the bathroom door. “This is the best I could do.” He offered Alex the clothes. “There’s a tube of antibiotic cream in the medicine cabinet for your knees.”
Her hands not shaking quite so badly now, she accepted the items and managed a faint smile. “Thank you. This hospital getup is the pits.” She shrugged out of the lab coat and dropped it to the floor. The back of the gown had worked its way open and was showing off more than she realized.
Mitch couldn’t prevent the wicked grin that tilted his lips, or the equally wicked retort that flew out of his mouth before he could stop it. “I don’t know, from some angles it’s not so bad.”
Realizing where he was looking she blushed and closed the door in his face. He shook his head in disbelief. He’d just flirted with her. What was wrong with him? Hadn’t he learned his lesson already? Time for more coffee. Strong coffee. Because he definitely needed to clear his head.
By the time Alex found her way to the kitchen, the smell of fresh-brewed coffee had filled the air and Mitch had downed one cup and was working on a second.
“Have a seat.” He motioned to the table and chairs occupying the center of the big, old-fashioned kitchen. He reminded himself that he wasn’t supposed to notice the athletic muscle tone of her legs, or the way his too-big T-shirt made her look even more vulnerable. “Coffee?”
“Please.” She sat down gingerly.
He imagined that she was pretty sore from the unexplained beating she had taken. At least she wasn’t shaking now, he noticed. He poured her a cup and sat it down on the table in front of her. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head, then moistened her lips. Mitch cursed himself for following that last move with too much interest.
“I don’t think I could handle any food right now.”
She closed her eyes and he knew she was reliving the scene that had taken place in her hospital room.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
Her eyes opened and she looked up at him with a kind of pain that tugged hard at his emotions. “I’d been lying there for what felt like forever trying to remember what went down with…with Deputy Miller.” She shrugged halfheartedly. “Finally, I had to get up. I couldn’t lie there a minute longer.” Hesitating briefly, she frowned. “When I sat up I heard a sound like glass cracking and something hit the pillow right behind me. I guess it was instinct, but I rolled off the bed and onto the floor even before I realized what had actually happened. I knocked the telephone off the table in the process.”
She stared into her cup for a while as she gathered her courage and began again. “I guess the deputy heard the crash. The door flew open and he rushed in. I tried to warn him to get down, but it happened too fast.” She pressed trembling fingers to her mouth. “I tried to stop the bleeding…but I couldn’t.” Tears welled past her lashes and slid down her cheeks. “All I could think to do then was run from the danger.”
“So you came here?” He worked hard not to be affected by her vulnerability, and at the same time to keep an open mind.
She nodded. “I was afraid. I didn’t know where else to hide. I knew no one would look for me here. And this was the only other place I remembered besides the hotel.”
She was right about that first part. No one would have ever looked here. Not even him. She obviously didn’t remember the words that had passed between them in this very room on the night before last, since she felt comfortable coming here. “How can I be sure that you didn’t call out to Deputy Saylor for the shooter to take down so that you could escape?”
“What?” She pushed out of her chair, sending it scraping across the floor. “Someone tried to kill me!”
Mitch sat his cup down, watching closely for every nuance of her reaction. He had to play devil’s advocate. Had to see and feel her response. “The second bullet could have been the one that hit your pillow to make it look as if someone was trying to kill you.”
She braced her hands at her waist. “You can’t believe that. Why would I have come here? Why would I try to help that deputy if I’d wanted him dead? Do you think I would have—?” A gasp stole the rest of what she intended to say as her mind evidently replayed those final moments in the hospital.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Preston,” Mitch offered, with absolutely no contrition. “But until we solve this case, you’re my prime suspect. Despite the fact that you came here, running only made you look more guilty.”
She stared directly into his eyes. “I ran because I was afraid. I don’t know why I came to your house,” she said flatly. “And I can’t tell you what happened in that car with Miller.” She flung her arms upward in frustration. “I don’t even know how I got all these bruises. But the one thing I can tell you is that I didn’t kill anyone. I know that.”
She swayed slightly and had the presence of mind to drop back into her chair before Mitch had to reach for her.
“All right,” he relented. “Let’s say for the moment that I believe you. How do you propose we go about proving your story? After all, you lied to me about why you were here from the beginning.” She might not remember just yet, but he couldn’t put it out of his head.
That got her attention. Confusion claimed her features. “I don’t know why I lied to you. But there must have been a reason I held anything back.”
Incredibly, he believed her. Mitch swore silently. This was nuts. He should just take her back to the hospital this minute and put her under guard in a room with no windows. What the hell was he thinking standing here allowing himself to swallow her story hook, line and sinker?
But he did. That was the hell of