Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,58

But that day didn’t seem as if it was going to come anytime soon. Not until Fullerton was in custody.

Rafe drove past another hotel, the first one they’d seen in the past twenty minutes, but he didn’t stop. He was too busy on the phone with Buresh, discussing the ongoing investigation and the hunt for Fullerton. After Rafe ended his call, and passed another hotel a few minutes later, Darby started to wonder if he was ever going to stop.

“Is tonight’s hotel in Miami?” she joked.

He didn’t even smile. “Not quite. We’re not going to a hotel. We’re staying somewhere more remote, safer.”

“Safer?” Her stomach clenched and she glanced at her side mirror. No other cars were on the road. No one was following them. “You’ve been awfully quiet since your last phone call with Buresh. Has something else happened?”

He sighed heavily and pulled the car to the side of the road. Turning in his seat, he took her hand in his. She wished he hadn’t, because her pulse started slamming the moment his fingers touched hers. Then again, maybe that was good. When he touched her she had a hard time focusing on the bad things around her. And from the serious look on his face, she had a feeling she would need his touch to anchor her from whatever he was about to say.

“How much do you remember about the Fullerton case?”

“Not much. It was a long time ago. My case notes were sparse. Basically, I interviewed him several times and determined he was competent to stand trial. He knew right from wrong at the time of the murder.”

“If he’s the one who committed the murder.”

She tensed, her hand clutching his. “What are you saying?”

“It was a circumstantial case,” he said. “No blood. No fingerprints, based on eyewitness testimony placing him at the scene, some fibers and hair. Motive was supported by a recording on the victim’s answering machine.”

“His girlfriend. He threatened to kill her after she broke up with him. I remember,” Darby said.

“There was no GSR on his hands, or his clothes.”

“Gunshot residue?”

He nodded. “Fullerton was picked up a couple of hours after the shooting. He tested negative for GSR, and the murder weapon was never found.”

“But...GSR washes off, right?”

“Yes. Eventually.”

“I don’t understand,” Darby said. “The jury convicted him. Has something changed? Did a witness recant their testimony?”

“No one recanted, but eyewitnesses can make mistakes.” He drew in a deep breath and checked the mirrors. “The guys at the station dug into Fullerton’s alibi. He’d claimed all along he was at a minor league baseball game in Jacksonville, but no one at the ballpark remembered him. He didn’t keep his ticket stub. He said he’d paid cash, so there wasn’t an electronic record of anything. Buresh had the guys dig deeper. He had them look into back issues of Jacksonville’s daily paper, the Times-Union. They found a sports feature for the ball game Fullerton said he attended. One of the pictures with the article showed some fans sitting in the stands.” His hand tightened on hers. “Fullerton was one of those fans.”

Darby’s stomach sank. No, he had to be wrong. If he was right, that meant... She swallowed hard. “He could have left the game early. That doesn’t prove anything.”

“The background in the picture has specific details to nail down when the picture was taken. It seems highly likely the photograph was taken a few minutes after Fullerton’s girlfriend was murdered. The ballpark is forty-five minutes from the vic’s house.”

She shook her head. Part of her knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t accept what he was telling her. “Time of death isn’t always exact. The coroner could have—”

“Time of death isn’t in question. Neighbors heard the shot, called the police. They were on the scene within minutes.”

Darby started to shake.

Rafe leaned over and pulled her against him. He rubbed his hand down her back and cradled her head against his chest. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. These things happen.”

She clutched his shirt in her fist. “We sent an innocent man to prison. We destroyed his life. We—”

He eased back and put his hand beneath her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. “Stop blaming yourself. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s Fullerton’s attorney’s fault. He should have dug deeper, like we just did, to prove his client’s alibi. We presented the facts as we knew them. And you...” He rubbed his thumb against her cheek in a soft caress. “All