Dance With Me - By Hayden Braeburn Page 0,36

“I didn't know she was planning on hurting him.”

The Lieutenant's face softened. “We know you didn't. Please, go on.”

“I guess Mr. Everett arrived when I was over at the coffee shop—I always go at quarter till eight—and when I got back to my desk he wasn't there.” She played with one long fingernail. “I should've known something was wrong, but his phone and keys were on the desk and his jacket was on the chair. He doesn't usually leave his phone on his desk, but sometimes he does.”

“So nothing seemed too out of the ordinary to you?” Reid prompted.

She scrunched up her attractive features. “Not really, no. It wasn't until Cassidy came by that I began to worry. He's a busy man, but he didn't have appointments scheduled all day, and I hadn't seen him. We usually have a bit of a meeting over coffee before his day really starts.” She shook her head again and Reid almost laughed at the mesmerized look on his boss's face. “I wish I had known, ya know? Maybe he could've been saved earlier.”

Carpenter shut his eyes for a second before concluding the interview. “Thank you for your help, Miss O'Hara.” He pulled his card from his pocket, taking the time to add his personal cell number to the back. “Here's my card. If you think of anything you'd like to speak with me about, just give me a call.”

She smiled and tucked the card in her pocket. “I just might do that.”

“Did you just pick up a woman while investigating a case, sir?” Reid asked as they made their way across the parking lot at Tyler Central Banking.

“That I did. Live and learn.”

Reid chuckled. “I have a woman.”

“You put a diamond on her and everything.” He stopped mid-stride. “How is that other case?”

“Just got my ex mother-in-law tossed in jail for a night, we're no closer to finding the murderer, and I was granted emergency custody of Annie.”

“That won't impede this case.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Of course not,” Reid answered, hoping it was true.

~*~

Cassidy took a deep breath. She was nervous about talking to her own brother and that just wouldn't do. Dylan was sleeping for a few more hours, so she had made her way out to Mason's to apologize. Dylan might not think everything was her fault, and it maybe it wasn't, but the guilt was still there. She should have seen Priscilla's obsession, and she should have done something about it. She grimaced at her shaky hand as she reached for the doorbell, and forced herself to buck up. She was a prosecutor, she ate criminals for breakfast. She could talk to her own flesh and blood.

Mason opened the door, surprised to find his sister on his doorstep. “I thought you were staying with Dylan?”

She smiled. “I am, but he's sleeping and I need to see you.” She peered around Mason. “Kat, too.”

At the mention of her name, Kat appeared behind her fiance. “Well, let's not stand around in the foyer. Come on in,” she said with a gesture to follow.

Kat hoped Cassidy was okay. She looked like she hadn't slept, and she probably hadn't eaten, either. Instead of sitting when they reached the living room, she headed into the kitchen. “Coffee, Cassidy? Or tea? Maybe a banana, or a muffin, or I could heat up some frittata if you'd like?”

“You sound like my mother,” Cassidy replied with a shake of her head. “I'll take that coffee, and maybe a muffin, if it's no trouble.”

Kat went to work putting together a plate including two of the mentioned muffins, a banana and a tangerine. “Cream and sugar?”

Mason watched the byplay, completely enthralled. Kat had taken her role of hostess seriously, taking care of his overtired, overwhelmed sister with no hesitation. Just a few days ago he'd wanted to strangle Cassidy for her treatment—no that wasn't right—her apathy toward Kat, and now Kat was treating her as an honored guest.

Cassidy accepted the plate and mug with a watery smile. “You didn't need to go to any trouble for me.”

Kat tilted her head, studying the slightly older woman. “When did you last sleep? Or eat?” When Cassidy directed her gaze to the ceiling to think, she continued, “It was no trouble. I made those muffins yesterday when I was worried and had nothing to do. You need to eat.”

What she needed was a less understanding almost sister-in-law. How had she thought this woman was a drug dealer? “I'm sorry, Kat.”

Kat