Page 29 of Devil's Hour
The mayor snapped angry eyes up to meet Royce’s. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Blue squirmed in his seat, but Royce pushed on. “He didn’t care enough to come with you to the police station, and he seemed more concerned about time management than your safety when I spoke with him.” The mayor sucked in a sharp breath. Maybe he’d been too harsh, but Royce was quickly running out of patience with both Goodwins.
The mayor released a long sigh. “I can understand how it would appear odd to you. Things are complicated between us, but I can promise you Skip would never hurt or threaten me.”
“Not even if he found out about your relationship with Ryan?” Blue asked.
“Not even then,” she replied adamantly. “For once, the husband didn’t do it.”
Royce wasn’t convinced, but badgering her would get them nowhere. He couldn’t think of more questions to ask her right then, not ones pertaining to the case anyway. He looked at Blue, who discreetly shook his head. Feeling that they’d gotten as much information from her as they could at the moment, Royce retrieved a card from his wallet and slid it across the ivory top on her desk. “If you think of anything…”
“You’ll be the first to know, Sergeant. Can I ask a favor, please?” Royce nodded. “I’m not a fool, and I know how horrible this situation looks to someone outside our relationship, but please be kind to Ryan. None of this is his fault.”
“You have my word, ma’am,” Royce replied solemnly.
“Goes the same for me,” Blue added.
She slowly rose from her desk. “I’ll send Ryan in.”
“I’m still trying to decide if you’re ballsy and brave or just dumb,” Blue said.
Royce looked over at Blue, who dwarfed the elegant chair he’d chosen. “I’m fearless.” He waggled his brows, making Blue grin. “I can’t believe the chair didn’t break when you started squirming.”
“Are you calling me fat?”
“Fuck no. You’re a giant bear of a man sitting in a chair built for a dainty woman. The odds aren’t in your favor, my friend.”
“You better not have cursed me just now, dickhead.”
“Hey, only Sawyer is allowed to call me that. Some people say baby, sweetie, and honey. We call each other asshole and dickhead.”
Blue chuckled and shook his head. “If the pet name fits…”
Ryan entered the room a few minutes later. He sat stiffly in the mayor’s vacated chair and placed his arms on the desk.
“We hear congratulations are in order,” Blue said. Royce was eager to judge the younger man’s honest reaction to pending fatherhood.
A ghost of a smile curved Ryan’s lips, which somehow made Royce feel worse about the entire situation. The kid—guy—was happy, and Royce shouldn’t judge, but he was having a hard time letting it go. “Yeah. We’re expecting her in May.”
“Her?” Royce asked.
“It’s just a gut feeling. I’m convinced we’re having a girl.”
“Ryan, have you told anyone about your relationship with Lyn?” Royce asked. It felt odd addressing her informally, but he wanted to make the interview feel like a casual conversation. Throwing in Mayor Goodwin was a sure way to make the kid feel tense and ruin that vibe.
“I haven’t told anyone,” he said vehemently. “People won’t understand. I can tell by your body language you don’t either.”
“It doesn’t matter what my personal feelings are,” Royce said. “What matters is the crime that was committed here. You and the mayor are consenting adults. That’s enough for me.” Ryan nodded and relaxed. “Is it possible someone has overheard you speaking to her, or could you have possibly left something out for a roommate or a friend to find?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t have a roommate, and my friends are all busy settling into their new careers. I talk to my parents and Lyn.”
They continued asking him the same questions they’d raised with the mayor. He confirmed how long they’d been dating, although they could’ve rehearsed that before Royce and Blue arrived. He said no one had ever threatened or even hinted they knew about his relationship with Lynette Goodwin. He had certainly pissed off a lot fewer people in his twenty-something years than the mayor had, so they wrapped up the interview quickly.
Ryan said a private goodbye to the mayor and silently followed Royce to his car. Luckily, the onlookers had dispersed and the nosy reporter was nowhere in sight by this time. Ryan said nothing beyond giving instructions to his apartment near the college campus where he’d graduated, and Lynette Goodwin still taught part-time. The low-fuel warning light popped up on Royce’s dashboard, so he pulled into a gas station at the next intersection.
“I’ll be just a minute.”
“No problem. I don’t think my boss is expecting me at work on time,” he said wryly.