Next Girl to Die (The Calderwood Cases Book 1) by Dea Poirier

Author:Dea Poirier [Poirier, Dea]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

After my drink with Noah and call with Roxie, I continue working on the case, going through the interviews Allen has done with the girls in the choir. Finally, I’ve looked at my screen for so long my eyes have gone from blurry to lost cause. They burn, and no matter how many times I rub them, it does me no good. It’s time to pack it in. The sun set hours ago, and the clock is ticking dangerously close to ten p.m.

I grab my bag, tuck away the files I know I’ll want to look at again tonight, and shut down my computer. As I flip off the light and head out to the main room, I realize I’m not alone. Allen turns around slowly, his long dark hair falling in his face. Since I've arrived here, he hasn’t said a single word to me.

This close to him, alone, a bad feeling imprints on me so deeply I’m sure its fingerprints are on my soul. He drags the back of his hand slowly across his lips. Something lingers behind his eyes, and I swear they sharpen. When Allen stands, he’s got a foot on me; it doesn’t help that he’s also at least a hundred pounds heavier. Though I’ve got a gun at my hip, it does nothing to calm my nerves. After all, he’s got his own.

I swallow hard and walk toward the door, pretending that he doesn’t exist. When I’m ten feet from being free, my heart pounding, Allen steps in front of me, blocking my only path out.

“You shouldn’t be here.” The words practically come out as a hiss.

“Well, I’m heading home now,” I say, swallowing back the snide comment I want to hurl at him. I always feel like I’ve got to be careful as a woman in this world. Men can get away with anything in criminal justice. Women, though? We have to fight tooth and nail to get where we are. When we lose ground, it’s not just an inch—it’s a mile.

“No, you shouldn’t be on this island. You should have never come back here.” He spits the words, looking down at me like I’m shit stuck to his shoe.

“And why is that, exactly?”

“You know why. Ryder tried to kill himself because of you,” he growls. But it isn’t anger lingering behind his eyes; I swear it’s pain. If he’s so worried about Ryder, why is he here and not at the hospital? Did he come back just to confront me?

“Because of me? I hadn’t questioned him. He wasn’t a suspect.”

“He knew you were asking about him. It was only a matter of time until you tried to pin this on him, because that’s what everyone else on this island does.” He clenches his fists at his sides.

Frustration piles inside me, brick by brick. “If I hadn’t shown up, Ryder would be dead. I’m not out for him. I’m not out for your family—as much as you seem to want me to be.

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