his eyes at what I’m sure sounded like a self-serving statement. “Where was your girlfriend during all this commotion?”
Unease prickles down my spine. Mallory doesn’t need to be brought into this. “Asleep in our hotel room.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
He stands and knocks on the door. “All right.”
“Are you letting me go?”
“I’ll attempt to verify your version of events.” He jerks his chin up. “Someone will come in and test your hands.”
“Good.”
Raised voices in the hallway, draw our attention to the door a few seconds before it’s flung open. The detective barely has time to jump out of the way.
“If you’re done violating my client’s rights, I’d like to have a word with him,” the intruder says.
I drop my head, suppressing my laughter. Knew my girl would come through. After her initial confusion, when I called to explain what was happening, she bucked up and promised she’d track down my father. And fuck knows, Dad wouldn’t waste time finding me a lawyer the second he found out I was in jail.
After the detective leaves, the man extends his hand to me. “Sloan Paxton, your father hired me to represent you.” He drops into the seat across from me. “I’ll need a little time to get caught up on your case. Speak to the detectives. See what I can find out. The victim is in critical condition—”
“Andrew’s alive?”
He pins me with a stare. “Yes.”
“Thank God,” I breathe out.
“These are still serious charges.”
“I know that,” I spit out. “I was worried my friend was dead. No one’s told me anything.”
“I’m not going to ask if you did it—”
“I didn’t.”
He holds up one hand and shakes his head. “Don’t.” He glances down at the papers in his hands. “Who’s Peter Carson?”
“The band’s tour manager.”
“Andrew’s band, or yours?”
My brows draw down. Why the fuck’s he so interested in Pete? “Mine. Why?”
“He’s the one who told the cops you tried to shoot Andrew the night before.”
“Are you shitting me?” I jump up, stabbing my fingers through my hair. “Why the fuck would he do that?”
“You tell me.” He studies a legal pad covered in chicken scratch that must only be legible to him. “Your girlfriend states Peter told her he had no idea where you were.”
“That piece of shit.”
“Easy. Let’s get you out of this jam.” He consults his notes again. “Do you own a gun?”
“Yes,” I answer carefully.
A slight downward twitch at the corner of his mouth says that’s not the answer he hoped for. “Where is it now?”
“Locked up on the tour bus.”
I swear he breathes a sigh of relief. “You never made it back to the bus last night?”
“I see where you’re going with this. No. The cops arrested me at the hospital.”
“Good. Okay.”
“Is Mallory okay? Have you talked to her?”
Paxton shifts and won’t meet my eyes for a second. “She’s worried about you. She came down here with me but they won’t let her see you yet.”
“She’s here? Get her back to the hotel. I need her to stay clear of this as much as possible.” Damn, knowing she’s so close kills me.
“Is she involved?”
“No and I want to keep it that way. She doesn’t need the bad press.” When will my shitty life decisions stop putting Mallory’s career in jeopardy?
“Let’s continue. What is your relationship with Andrew Lane?”
“We’re friends. We’ve collaborated on some songs. Our bands are touring together.” I shrug. That tour might be over. Hell, Kickstart’s entire career might be blown if the whole world thinks I tried to kill the legendary Andrew Lane.
“There’s no animosity between you?”
“Sure, he pisses me off all the time. Then he does something nice and makes it hard to be mad at him.”
“And what’s his relationship to Mallory?”
“Why?” I growl.
He stabs his pencil in the air. “That right there is a problem.” He leans in closer. “They’re going to try and paint this as a love triangle that got out of hand.”
“That’s pure bullshit. She’s friends with his girlfriend. They work together. The four of us hang out back in L.A. sometimes.”
“Girlfriend.” He taps his pencil against the table. “Name?”
“Pamela Scott.”
He scribbles down her name without a twitch of recognition. Guess he’s not a Playboy fan. I sit back and assess my attorney. My father chose well for being an emergency-over-the-phone situation. Guy seems serious and sharp. Two things I’ll need if there’s any hope of extracting myself from this mess.
MALLORY
Waiting around the police station while the lawyer talks to Chaser is torture.
“Miss, I’m sorry. Only his attorney’s allowed to see him