Perfect Night (Mason Creek #4) - Terri E. Laine Page 0,60

a homicide.”

The blood drained from the sheriff’s face. “How?”

“Appears he was punched in the face and hit the concrete floor hard enough to cause a brain bleed.”

“He didn’t have a bruise,” Sheriff countered.

“He said the beginning of one could be seen under the microscope.”

The next words out of the sheriff’s mouth would determine the level of respect I’d have for him going forward.

“The death certificate has to be changed on record by the Coroner’s office,” he began.

“The coroner is an elected official and doesn’t even have to have forensic medical training. The medical examiner has the expertise. I don’t think any judge would object to the new findings.”

Though our current coroner was a doctor, his expertise was in live patients not dead ones.

He nodded. “We proceed with caution. Until it’s changed, legally we can’t arrest anyone without damning evidence in hand. Who are you looking at?”

“Jack Riddle, for one.”

Shocked registered on his face. “Why?”

“He has motive and opportunity. He claims Doug offered to sell him the bar at some point. What if Doug changed his mind? His will gives everything to Emma with no mention of Jack.” The sheriff looked ready to balk, so I dived in. “He had opportunity. He had access to the bar as manager.”

“He didn’t do it,” Sheriff stated.

“Maybe not, but I have to give him a hard look.”

“Do you have anyone else?”

“Maybe.” I didn’t give him more. “I’ll need a warrant for that one.”

“Get the process moving…” There was a pause and I waited. “And tell Emma I’m sorry.”

“You should tell her yourself.”

I went to my office to make a boatload of calls. One of those calls was to Jack. An hour later, he showed up to the station voluntarily. I led him back to the small room for interrogations. There was a reason for that.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked.

“First, I’m going to read your rights for your protection.”

Alarm registered on his face as it did most suspects and witnesses alike who didn’t often find themselves dealing with law enforcement. I read him the Miranda warning and offered him a paper with the written warning for him to sign.

“It’s procedure,” I said, handing him a pen. “I read it because this is being recorded. You’re welcome to read it again and then sign, acknowledging you have been made aware of your rights.”

He did as I asked, then repeated his earlier question. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll get to that. First, tell me where you were on the day of Doug Hawkins’s death.” I gave him the date and window of time I was looking for.

“I was with the guys playing poker until about two.”

“Which guys?” I asked and when he named them, I jotted it down. “And after.”

“I was at home.”

“Was there anyone at home who can corroborate that?”

“My wife.”

“Was she sleeping?”

He turned red and I wasn’t yet sure if that was embarrassment or anger.

“We were fucking. So yeah. She can corroborate that.” So a little of both.

So far, he hadn’t asked for a lawyer or questioned my authority. “Do you mind if I give her a call?”

He shrugged, then gestured the go ahead with his hands. He gave me her number and I left the room to place the call. After that ended, I let him go. Even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t arrest him without more.

Though I wasn’t in a position to arrest anyone yet, I felt as though things were moving in the right direction by the time I left work that evening. When I got home, I walked into an amazing aroma.

Emma was in the kitchen at the stove wearing another one of my shirts with shorts that barely peeked below the hem. It was sexy as hell. I folded my arms. “Damn, I could come home to this every night.”

She turned a lovely shade of pink when she halfway turned to face me. I couldn’t resist and placed my hands on her hips while nibbing on her neck. Her giggle only spurred me on.

“If you keep doing that, I’ll burn dinner and we’ll have nothing to eat.”

“Oh, there are a hell of a lot of things to eat that don’t involve food.”

She swatted at me. “I left work early once Jack returned to make you this meal. You aren’t spoiling it for me.”

“But I’m hungry for you,” I complained with a grin on my face.

“Food first. You’re going to need fuel for what I have in mind,” she teased. I groaned and she switched topics. “Are you going to tell me