Arresting Developments. Lena Diaz
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in the least. The rest of him was just as...impressive...as his naked chest had been.
He grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around his hips. If they’d been in the swamp, he’d have made some flirty, corny comment. But the teasing flirtation she’d come to expect from him in their brief time together was replaced by a sullen, angry, serious stranger.
Her shoulders slumped. “You know.”
“That you’re wanted for murder? Yeah, hard to miss that topic around here. About that—I want you to know that I didn’t tell them about you on purpose.”
She waved her hand. “No worries. You were delirious. It’s not your fault.”
“How would you know I was delirious?”
She swallowed and shrugged. “A...ah, guess. I knew you still had the fever when I left you. And, since Deputy Holder headed up that posse after me so fast, they obviously knew about me. And I trust you—I know you meant it when you said you wouldn’t tell. Again, no worries. Not your fault.” She tugged her arm out of his hold. “It was a mistake. I’ll go. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”
He blocked her way. “Not so fast. There are things...we need to talk.”
“No, I need to get out of here before someone catches me.”
“If you’re that worried, why’d you come here in the first place?”
She blinked as if remembering something, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. “You dropped this earlier. I kept it at first to try to erase the pictures of me. But there’s no point in that anymore. So...here you go.” She handed it to him and he tossed it onto the bed.
“I don’t think you risked everything to come here to return a phone. What’s the real reason that you’re here?”
She blew out a long breath. “Guilt, I guess. I was worried that I’d left you unprotected. You’re obviously able to care for yourself now, so my job is done. Time to go.”
“Turn around.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I’m the only one naked in this room. Either you take your clothes off and we’ll be naked together, or you turn around while I get dressed.”
She hesitated, half wondering if he was serious.
“That was a joke, Amber. Turn around.”
She sighed and turned around, listening to the sounds of drawers opening and the whisper of fabric against skin.
“Okay, you can turn around.”
When she did, she was surprised to see him wearing dark gray dress slacks and a burgundy dress shirt tucked in, with a charcoal-gray-and-maroon-striped silk tie. The only thing missing was a suit jacket and he’d look at home in any boardroom. Pity. She liked him better half-covered in mud and jet fuel. He’d been a lot more fun and a lot less serious.
“Nice clothes. I can’t imagine anyone around here having a suit you could borrow, though.”
“They’re my clothes. My assistant brought them.”
“Your assistant. Okay. Well, you’re obviously doing fine and you have...an assistant watching after you now, so I’ll just be on my way.” She scampered around him and ran to the door. But he was surprisingly fast for someone who’d just woken from a near-coma after several days and he braced his hand against the door, keeping her from being able to open it.
“Damn it, Amber. We need to talk.”
The sound of voices outside the door and footsteps clomping up the wooden stairs had him breaking off. Amber’s eyes widened in dismay. She turned in a circle, surveying the tiny room for a place to hide. The tiny bathroom or the closet. She chose the closet.
“Wait.” Dex grabbed her arm in an unbreakable hold.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Please,” she whispered, as she tried to pry his hand off her forearm. “Let me go. I’m just going to hide in the closet.”
He shook his head. “No. You’re not.” He half turned toward the door. “Come in,” he called out.
Amber gasped in shock as the door opened. Her aunt gaped at her in surprise, then moved aside to let the group of men behind her into the room. The first two men, wearing suits much like Dex’s, were strangers to her. But the last man to enter the room was not. She’d seen him two years ago, the day she’d run into the Glades.
The look of surprise on his face was quickly replaced with a look of reproach as he pulled out his handcuffs.
“Miss Callahan.” Collier County Deputy Scott Holder pulled her away from Dex and turned her around. “You’re under arrest for the murder of your grandfather, William Callahan.”
Amber stiffened her spine while he locked the handcuffs around her wrists. Her face flamed hot as she endured the pat down with the others watching, except for Dex and one of the men in a suit who were currently deep in conversation by the window, completely ignoring her. She noted that he didn’t seem surprised by the appearance of a Collier County sheriff’s deputy at his door, either.
Holder took her knife and sheath from her belt. Then he escorted Amber to the door with her hands cuffed behind her back, past the admonishing look from her aunt. Dex never once looked her way.
* * *
“WELL, THIS SEEMS FAMILIAR.” Deputy Holder leaned back in his desk chair in the squad room beside Dex as another officer escorted Amber into an interview room.
“Because of Faye Star?” Dex asked, noting that Amber made a point of not looking at him even though she passed less than a yard away from him.
He nodded. “Your PI partner, Jake Young, had Faye in here accused of murder just a couple of months ago. Déjà vu.” He cast him a sideways glance. “Let me guess. You think Miss Callahan is innocent?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. But I certainly wasn’t going to harbor a fugitive once I found out there was an outstanding warrant for her arrest. That’s why I had Freddie call you to come over, so I could tell you what I knew. It was only dumb luck that she was there when you arrived.”
“You’re supposedly worried about making sure she doesn’t run from the law. And yet you’re offering your own lawyer to defend her.” He nodded at Garreth Jackson as he passed them and went into the interview room.
“She saved my life. I figure the least I can do is make sure she gets a good attorney. Garreth was a criminal defense lawyer before he turned to business law. He can at least advise her until I can bring in someone else.”
Holder snorted. “Sounds to me like you’re going to a lot of trouble—and expense—for someone you aren’t sure is innocent.”
“Like I said. She saved my life. I can’t put a price on that. Whatever she needs, I intend to provide it. What about you? Do you think she’s guilty?”
The interview room door closed and Holder flipped the file open on top of his desk. “Seems pretty cut-and-dried. Her grandfather was the founder of Mystic Glades. He lived in a mansion, of sorts, several miles outside the town proper, with only one other person—Amber Callahan. She was known more or less as the town healer, for lack of a better term. If someone was sick or broke a bone, they went to Amber instead of taking the long drive to Naples. She was the only one with her grandfather the night he died, admitted as much the next morning when she called the police to report his death.”
“Her aunt said the old man had been poisoned?”
“Poisoned? Not exactly, but close. He was sick with the flu or something similar and she gave him one of her potions to supposedly help him sleep better. But the potion was laced with peanut oil, something he was highly allergic to. Coroner said his throat closed up and he died of anaphylactic shock.