Page 82

I drop onto the edge of the bed, leaning over my knees, “Did they find anything at her apartment?”
“Nope. Wiped clean. No prints, no blood.”
That doesn’t make sense. If Justin was killed there, why wasn’t there blood somewhere? Is that why they stuck him in the tub?
And then Amelia gave him a freaking bath. Dang it. How much evidence did Amelia wash away? If I didn't know her better, I would think she did this.
“It was Liam. It has to be.”
“The only connection between the two of them is your girlfriend,” Cruz says. “But since the police seem to believe she’s innocent—”
“She’s not my girlfriend and she didn’t do this. She has a solid alibi.”
Cruz rolls her eyes. “Family always lies for family.”
“You don’t have to trust her, but trust me, please. Something else is going on here.”
“Yeah, you’ve lost your mind.” Another round of thumping comes from Amelia’s room, followed by a "hi-ya." Cruz raises a brow. “Okay look, you’re my partner, I’ve got your back. But if she was in on this, in any way, I’ll have no problem telling you I was right.”
“As you should.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, you’re pathetic when you’re in love.”
I clench my jaw and purposely avoid everything about that statement. Do I like Amelia? Yes. I will admit that I have developed very real feelings for her. But love? Nope. I’m steering clear of that boat. Waving to it from a distance but not purchasing a ticket to board. I’m on the like ship forever and always.
I clear my throat. “Have you found out anything else?”
“Not yet,” she says. “I’ve been looking into neighbors and the women Justin cheated with. Maybe one of them found out and wanted him dead.”
“Send me all the names, I’ll work on it from my end.”
“Already did.” She stands and heads for the door. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“What qualifies as stupid?”
Her eyes dart to the adjoining door between mine and Amelia’s rooms. Then back to me, her eyebrows raised in a challenge. Then she turns and walks out the door.
I wait a beat before following her out. Protecting Amelia isn’t stupid. She’s in danger. Not protecting her would be a bigger mistake. But there’s a fear I can’t escape, only reinforced by Cruz’s parting shots, that I’m going to screw something up here.
My mom would be proud of me for doing what I think is right despite the backlash I might receive, that much I know. I always went to battle for her, fighting the doctors on new treatments, fighting insurance because she couldn’t do it herself. She needed me. And now Amelia does. My job is to protect, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep Amelia safe because despite what everyone else thinks, I think she’s in danger. And I’ve got to go with my gut. I’d rather be overprotective and be wrong than have done nothing and be right.
Sighing, I walk the two steps over to Amelia’s door and knock.
Wait.
Knock again.
Wait.
I knock harder this time.
The door swings open and a rush of warm air slaps me in the face. It’s an intoxicating mixture of her perfume and body wash, and coffee. She’s still in her bike shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair is up in a ponytail, but several strands have already escaped, poking out in every direction. She’s both sexy and cute. A lethal combination.
I want to wrap her up in my arms. I shove my hands into my pockets.
“What time is it?” Amelia asks. She’s her usual perky self, but there are shadows under her eyes that weren’t there yesterday and I hate what they mean.
“Seven-thirty.” The time is on the alarm clock behind her.