Page 30 of Deathmarch

Panic raced through her, not enough air in the room all of a sudden. “And until then?”

“You’ll stay at the station,” Harper said.

Her gaze snapped to Abram. She waited for him to pull some legal maneuver from his sleeve.Not so fast. I object.OrWhat about precedent?Or some other thing lawyers always said in legal dramas. But all Abram told her in a sympathetic tone on his way out was “I’ll see you at the bail hearing. Hang in there.”

Harper pocketed the recorder and straightened the chairs before he took her elbow and led her out, escorting her to the back of the station. “Bathroom?”

Numb all over, she nodded, grateful that at least he didn’t cuff her again.

He let her use the station bathroom, and she was grateful for that too, for the privacy. In the cells, the toilets sat out in the open.

“Ever been back here before?” he asked when they got there.

“Once. Brought clean clothes for my father because he threw up all over himself during an arrest.” Being on the other side of the bars, as Harper locked the door behind her, gave Allie a whole new perspective.

She stood in the middle, more scared than she’d ever been in her life, mentally and physically exhausted but not ready to lie down yet, not ready to accept that she was there. Then anger nudged anxiety out as she watched Harper walk away.Mad enough to swallow a horn toad backwards,Calamity Jane would have said. Jane would never have let a man think she was beaten. And neither would Allie.

So, she gathered everything she had, stuck out her chin, and belted out “Cell Block Tango” from the musicalChicagoat the top of her lungs.

God, the sheer defiance made her feel better. Screw Harper Finnegan.

“Singing about shooting a man in the head?” He glanced over his shoulder with an amused expression. “Might not be the best choice for a song when you’re in jail for murder.”

Instead of walking out, he grabbed the plastic chair by the door and carried it over. He dropped that chair just outside her cell, lowered himself into it, and stretched out his long legs in front of him, settling in.

Did he expect her to bust out somehow in what remained of the night? She cut off the song and shot him an incredulous look. “What are you doing?”

“Not worth driving home just to have to get up early to come in first thing in the morning.”

She didn’t believe a word. “I don’t need to be on suicide watch.”

He closed his eyes. “You’re not.”

And then another possibility hit her, a hard punch in the stomach. She drew back two steps, and before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Are you going to kill me?”

His eyes popped open, the look in them stunned, then exasperated. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re framing me for murder.” There. She’d said it.

“God, Allie.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “For one, rules say I can’t leave anyone alone in a cell overnight. I can’t just go home. What if there was a fire here?”

“Oh.” She walked to the sleeping bench at the back of the small cell and sat, folding her hands on her lap.

He watched her.

She watched him, the fight going out of her. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Make that a double.”

Her throat burned.Not going to cry in front of Harper Flipping Finnegan. Not going to cry. Not going to cry.

“Where have you been all these years? Where do you live now?” He sounded less of a hard-ass outside the interrogation room.

If that was supposed to be an olive branch… Well, he could wrap it in barbed wire and shove it up his ass. “You shouldn’t question me without my lawyer present.”

“Don’t say anything incriminating. Friendly conversation.”

She scoffed. They were no longer friends, clearly, and hadn’t been in a long time. “I live on the road.”