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“Can I wash it off yet? It freaks me out knowing it’s hers.”

“Wash it off?” The detective levels Angélica with a look of feigned politeness. “As I’m sure you can imagine, Ms. Flores, you’re our prime suspect. We’ll need to take your clothes and swab your hands for evidence. And you’ll have to come with us to the station for more questions.”

The mention of washing hands reminds me of something crucial that I should have realized at the very beginning of this mess. “Angélica didn’t kill Colette,” I announce suddenly, never so sure of anything in my life.

“That’s what they all think, Mr. Greyson. No one can picture someone they know doing something horrific like this.”

“Trust me, I’m not speaking out of bias. I have proof.” Thank God for chemical play.

“What kind ofproof?” the detective asks. It’s clear from her tone that she really doesn’t give a shit.

“Angélica’s hands are covered in cinnamon oil. It’s hydrophobic and takes hours to fade on its own. If she touched Collette at any moment, there would be traces of the oil on her body. Go ahead and test it.”

The detective stares me down, trying to decide if somethingas small as this is worth overturning her decision that Angélica is the killer.

“You’ve got the wrong fucking girl, which means the real suspect is somewhere out there. Do yourgoddamnjob and find them.”

“I don’t really care about your kinky bullshit, Mr. Greyson. We can’t ignore that she’s the only one here with blood on her hands.”

“Use your fucking imagination,” I seethe, so sick of cops going for the easiest suspect. “The type of person whomurders a girl and carves out her heart in a room full of peopleisn’t going to be careless enough to be caught at the scene with the victim’s blood on their hands. It’s a clear diversion.”

The detective hesitates, clearly considering my words. But it’s not enough. “While I appreciate your theories, Mr. Greyson, I’ve only got one suspect right now. And I’m taking her in.”

“What about me?” I snap, not wanting to let Angélica out of my sight. Certainly two people I’m connected to winding up dead in nearly the exact same manner is enough to make me look suspicious, too?

“I think we have all we need from you for now, Mr. Greyson,” Detective Montgomery sighs. “I’d advise you not to do any traveling in case we need another statement.”

“Understood,” I bite. That means they think Angélica is their killer, but if they can’t prove it, they’re more than willing to pin the crime on me.

I walk Angélica out of earshot and grasp her chin. “You’re going to have to go with them. I don’t like it, but they have enough evidence to hold you for a little while. I’ll make sure Ashford’s lawyer meets you at the station. Don’t say a word until he’s in the room with you.”

“O-okay,” Angélica stammers, her lips trembling.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise. Is there anything we shouldwarn the lawyer about? Anything in your past that won’t look pretty in a murder investigation? Any questions he needs to make sure the cops stay clear of?”

I doubt my angel has done anything worth hiding, but I’m cautious enough to ask for her sake.

“No, nothing,” she answers a little too quickly. I hope I’m imagining the small flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“Are you sure?” I press, trying to gauge the tension in her body with my fingertips. “Given my past, I wouldn’t judge you for anything. I just need to know so I can keep you safe.”

“There’s nothing. I promise.”

“Good,” I heave in relief. “Let’s get this bullshit over with then.” I walk her toward the door, wishing they’d let me drive her myself rather than stuffing her into the back of a squad car.

“Greyson,” Ashford calls from behind me. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Kinda busy right now, Your Lordship,” I reply over my shoulder.

“Detective Montgomery has Angélica taken care of right now.” His face contorts with an emotion I can’t pin. “This is important.”

Rolling my eyes at his inconvenient demands, I wrap my arms around my girl and crush her against me. “You gonna be okay, angel?” I whisper.

“Of course,” she answers back, sounding braver than I’d expect. “I did nothing wrong. They can’t charge me if I’m innocent.”

If only that were true.

“I’ll come get you as soon as they let me. Any snacks you want me to bring you?”