Whiskey Beach - By Nora Roberts Page 0,169

Wench. We heard the noises in here. I didn’t want Eli to come out, but he felt he had to. I was going to go up, call the police, but we heard you coming.”

“Handy. Where’s the dog?”

“Having a sleepover at a friend’s,” Eli said equably.

“Setup.” Corbett shook his head. “You could’ve trusted me.”

“I did. I do. My house, my grandmother, my life. My woman. But I trust you, and that’s why I’d like to tell you a story before you interview Suskind. Some of the story plays into more recent events. I know who killed Lindsay, or I’m damn near close to knowing.”

“You’ve got my attention.”

“I’ll tell you, but I want to observe the interview. I want to be there.”

“If you have information or evidence regarding a homicide, you don’t bargain.”

“I have a story, and I have a theory. I think you’ll like both. I think even Detective Wolfe will be interested. I want to observe, Detective. It’s a good bargain for both of us.”

“You can ride in with me, we’ll talk about it.”

“We’ll get ourselves there.”

Corbett hissed out a breath. “Get your investigator there, too.”

“No problem.”

“Setup,” Corbett repeated under his breath, and headed back through the passage to the stairs.

“You didn’t stay inside,” Eli said to Abra.

“Please, if you thought I would, you may love me but you don’t know me.”

He took a handful of her hair, tugged it. “Actually, it played out pretty much the way I figured.”

“Let me see that hand.” She lifted it, gently kissed his bruised knuckles. “This must hurt.”

“Yeah, it does.” He laughed a little, winced a little as he flexed his fingers. “But in a good, satisfying way.”

“I’m strongly nonviolent, except in the case of defending self or others. But you were right. He owed you that.” She kissed his hand again. “And, I confess, I liked watching you punch the bastard.”

“That doesn’t sound nonviolent.”

“I know. Shame on me. What I’d like to mention, now that we’re alone? You had a gun. That wasn’t part of the plan we discussed.”

“It was a kind of amendment.”

“Where is it? I turned off the camera,” she added, “as soon as the cops came in.”

Saying nothing, Eli walked over, took the gun he’d put back on the shelf. “Because I think I do know you, and I figured you wouldn’t stay back, I wasn’t going to take any chances. Not with you.”

“Big cowboy gun,” she added. “Would you have used it?”

He’d asked himself the same question when he took it from the locked case, when he loaded it. He looked at her now, into what she was, what she meant to him.

“Yeah. If I had to, if I thought he’d get past me to you. But as I said, it played out the way I thought it would.”

“You think you’re smart.”

“Except for a relatively short span of time when I shut down, I’ve always been smart.” He hooked an arm around her, drew her in to press his lips to the top of her head.

I’ve got you, don’t I? he thought. That makes me pretty damn smart.

“I need to contact Sherrilyn, have her meet us at the station. And I need to put this back where it belongs.”

“Then I’ll get the camera and call Maureen, let them know it’s all clear. Teamwork.”

“I like the sound of it.”

Corbett sat across from Suskind, took a good, long study. He hadn’t asked for a lawyer—yet—which Corbett deemed stupid. But stupid often made his job easier so he wouldn’t argue about it. He had Vinnie standing inside the door. He liked the deputy’s rhythm, and felt he’d be an asset in the room.

But he concentrated on Suskind, on the nervous tics—the way the man’s fingers flexed and unflexed on the table, the jerk of a muscle in his jaw—his bruised and swollen jaw. And on the hard, stubborn line of his mouth, which sported a split lip.

Nervous, yes, Corbett decided, but absolutely dug in on his own sense of right.

“So . . . that’s a pretty big hole in the basement at Bluff House,” Corbett began. “A lot of work, a lot of time involved. Did you have some help?”

Suskind stared back, said nothing.

“I figure not. It strikes me like this was your job, your mission, not something to share. Your . . . you said ‘right,’ didn’t you?”

“It is my right.”

Shaking his head, Corbett tipped back in his chair. “You’re going to have to explain that one. All I see is the guy who got caught sleeping with Landon’s wife

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