Betrayal of the Dove - By Capri Montgomery Page 0,58

a photographer for National Geographic; he could work from any place without needing to be in an office at any particular time. That trip had saved his life and he didn’t even know it yet.

“It wasn’t the robber terrorizing the Row. They caught him last night trying to break into another store. One of the other officers running patrol got him.”

“I haven’t seen any news about it,” Alyssa brushed her hair back behind her shoulders.

“It’s under wraps until the nine o’clock press conference. This was a big case you know. Makes me wish I had caught him.”

“Who was he?”

“I’m not sure I should say.” He looked her over and grinned. “It’s not official knowledge yet.”

“Oh come on; who am I going to tell?” She said sweetly.

He shrugged. “Gregory Alexander Dumas,” he noted.

“Oh my God. He applied for security at my store.”

Craig nodded. “He seems to have applied at everybody’s store let him tell it. He needed a job. He probably figured if he robbed a few stores the need for security would go up. Shatrel probably hurt his ego when he went into her store and asked her about security so he decided to hurt her. He probably thought the increased violence would make somebody hire him.”

“And nobody did.”

“That’s probably why he sued you,” Shane said. “Maybe he thought he could get enough money from you not to worry about the job.”

“And when that didn’t work he decided to keep on going? Maybe,” she shrugged. “Just seems odd. Do you all have DNA confirmation? After the attack on Shatrel I would have to imagine there’s something to take into court. Unless you have a signed confession…”

“There wasn’t anything on Shatrel that was useable, at least not from the reports I’ve read. No seamen, so he probably had on a rubber, and no hairs, so he’s probably shaved. Doesn’t matter. He confessed.” Craig shifted his notebook and pen to his other hand. “We do have more important things to worry about here. Do you know who might have done this to you?”

She shrugged. “You already arrested my prime suspect.”

“Anybody else?”

“I can’t say,” she said expertly evading the question. Shane knew she was thinking his observation might be right. The only other person excessively bothering her was the cop in front of them, and if it wasn’t him…which he was sure she was thinking it wasn’t by now…then it had to be the guy after his team. He would have to remember to thank her for not mentioning it. The last thing he needed was some overzealous hormonal cop to muck things up now.

“And where were you during all of this?” Craig fixed his gaze on Shane. Shane was ready to show him why he shouldn’t mess with a SEAL when Alyssa placed one warm palm on his chest and smiled at him. That smile could calm a tiger, at least he thought so. He knew she was trying to keep him from assaulting a police officer and ending up in jail for doing it, but good Lord, the man was working what was left of his nerves. Seeing Alyssa tied to that chair, knowing she could die at any second, was enough to break his reserve—but knowing it happened because of him was the final straw. He had brought this into her life and now, whether he left or not, she would probably still be in danger. He was going to fix this. First, he would get her back to his place, which was more secure than her place. Then, he would make sure he got details on the current homicide investigation in Austin. He needed details. His team had worked a lot of high security threat missions, they had also turned down a lot of candidates, either way he looked at it his suspect pool was growing by the second.

“You don’t have anything to say?”

“I have a lot to say,” Shane’s voice was a lethal mix of anger and measured restraint—restraint that was about to break. “I’ll just hold off on saying it until a real cop gets here.”

“Okay,” Alyssa intervened. “I think we should probably have some tea; yes? Yes, tea,” she nodded. “And you’ll help me make it.” The tone in her voice told Shane she expected him to comply with her request, but he had no plans to go help make tea. He really was starting to hate the man in uniform. He had never had such a strong reaction of hatred to somebody in uniform—one of