Her Dangerous Revenge

CHAPTER 35

She waited for him to say his thoughts aloud. And so he did. "You think their prints are on the weapon?"

"I do," she said, breaking her silence at last. She walked over to the chair she'd

previously occupied, clutching the back of it with hooked fingers. Her eyes were on the table when she said, "I don't think any of those six have an alibi. And you were right. They were together that night. I saw Gareth and Ryan sharing a drink. I would imagine they passed around a beer or two at some point."

"Which is how everyone's prints ended up on one bottle," he concluded, grim-faced.

She glanced up at him. Her dark eyes were fathomless.

Cooper chewed the bottom of his lip. "It can't be a coincidence. Six names, six

prints," he repeated her words, grim. And then he hesitated. "And none of their

stories from that night match up. Why lie unless you have something to hide?"

"Exactly." Calla drummed her fingers against the worn wood. And then, she repeated those six names. Over and over again. Like some terrible, wicked

prayer.

After several seconds of this, she pushed away from the chair. Her wild temper had

evaporated almost as quickly as it had come. She walked into the living room and,

with an almost peaceful expression on her face, she sat on the couch. Cooper

hesitated before joining her, sitting as far from her as was physically possible on the

relatively small sofa, unsure what to do with his feet or his hands. He tried propping

his elbow on the armrest, but it felt unnatural. He shifted positions.

Calla watched his antics with a bored stare. "You done?"

"Shut up," he complained. He settled for clasping his hands in his lap and staring

ahead at the TV.

"I need your full, undivided attention," she began, folding her hands together. "Can

you manage that?"

"I am full," he said through his teeth, staring at her. Hard. "And I am undivided.

Proceed ."

She pondered him for a moment. And then: "We need to start being very careful.

Especially now that we have names. Because whoever it is, they haven't been

caught yet. They're smart. Which means they're going to realize, sooner rather than

later, what we're up to."

She didn't sound very pleased about that fact. One side of her mouth turned down

and her nose wrinkled, as if she'd tasted something disgusting and was trying to

hide it.

"Right. Tread lightly. Check." Cooper drew a checkmark in the air with his finger.

"We also need to get our hands on those autopsy reports."

"Ew?"

"If there's even the slightest chance those reports can give us useful information,

we need it."

"Like what?"

She hesitated. Cooper watched her with growing fascination, until she finally said,

"The more we know, the better prepared we'll be."

That sounded like the biggest pile of horseshit Cooper had ever heard. He was

about to say so when she turned away and directed her attention to the TV,

effectively shutting him out. He watched her, unease growing in the pit of his

stomach. Something in her expression gave him pause.

Finally, he forced out: "Okay. Autopsy reports. Fine. How do we get them?"

She shrugged. "I'll work on that one. For now...you're friendly with Ryan, aren't

you?"

"Friendly is sort of...an exaggeration. You could say that we've bonded in captivity

once or twice."

"If you're not friendly, then get friendly. Talk to him. Feel him out. Find out what he

was doing at the dance and why the hell the detectives think he's lying about it."