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The crack in her mask widens as she realizes what she just said.

Tassia moves closer to the table. “What did Dante say?”

“Nothing. He was with me all?—”

“Quit the shit. Where did you take him?”

“Nowhere!”

“We know you didn’t take him to the clubhouse. That’s too much of a hot spot right now. Your place?”

“No!”

“Dante’s mother runs a little diner just off the highway leading into the Catskills,” I say, my eyes never leaving Sherry’s. “Quaint and off the grid. Most of the patrons are truckers stopping for a bite.”

“No!” Sherry replies. “If Dante’s not at work, then something must’ve happened to him. I don’t know where he is.”

“Keep lying, Sherry, and you’ll be throwing your life away for a man who’s slept with half of Frost Valley.” Tassia pokes and prods, relentless in her psychological warfare. “You’ll spend years in prison for someone who won’t think twice about stepping out on you as soon as you’re out of the picture.”

“Bullshit! Dante loves me!”

“Is that why he had you come pick him up instead of one of his club buddies? He took a page right out of Trevor Callaghan’s playbook, Sherry. He got you involved so you’d have fewer reasons to talk when the shit really hits the fan.” Tassia pauses and looks at me. “You’ll definitely find him at his mother’s diner. Waiting for the heat to die down.”

“No!” Sherry screams and jumps out of her seat.

I reach up and grab her by the arm, then slam her back into the chair, slipping a pair of cuffs on her bony wrists. “You’re staying right here for now,” I tell her as I fasten the cuffs to the metal ring mounted atop the table.

“No, you can’t do this!”

“Be thankful I’m not charging you with accessory to murder.Yet,” I warn her.

That’s enough to silence her, but I know she’s itching to get out of here, to warn her man that we’re coming. Fortunately, Tassia picked up on Sherry’s body language confirming Dante’s location.

Hargreaves gives me a curious look as we step out of the interview room. “What is going on, Ty? She sounds hysterical.”

“Keep her here. No phone call, no lawyer. Stall for as long as you can, at least until the sheriff gets back,” I instruct him. “And don’t fall for the waterworks. Sherry’s boyfriend just became our chief suspect in Timothy Jackson’s murder, and she could be an accessory.”

The look on Hargreaves’s face tells me he got the message.

“You can’t come with me,” I say, turning to Tassia. “Not for this.”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of your keys,” she quips, jingling them in front of me. I’d laugh if the situation wasn’t so grim.

“Tassia, how did you?—”

“I’ve got sticky fingers,” she shoots back. “And I’m driving.”

“Tassia—”

“You’re not going after Dante alone. The sheriff’s department is already stretched thin. You need someone to call for backup, just in case.”

“I can’t?—”

“You can’t make me sit on the sidelines for this,” she insists, the tremor in her voice reminding me of the pain I know she’s carrying. “You can’t, Tyler. I owe it to Tim.”

“Fine, butI’mdriving.”

If there’sone thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s to never get in the way of a determined woman. Tassia’s presence in our lives has only strengthened that lesson.