“That looks like a bad sign,” Quinn said as he stared over my shoulder. “And there’s nothing left because we were hungry, and we bought the damn things over six hours ago.”

When he put it like that…

“Son,” Dad called as he walked up to me. “What did you get?”

“Taite DeRosa’s teary-eyed confession.” I paused. “After I read him his Miranda Rights, he sang like a canary.”

Dad blinked. “He what?”

“Like. A. Canary,” I said more slowly. “I arrived at his hotel room to find him holed up there. He looked like he’d been there for days. Apparently, he couldn’t leave because he, and I quote, ‘couldn’t believe what Alana made him do.’”

Dad shook his head, his eyes going to the interrogation room where Taite was now sitting, refusing a lawyer.

“So do you think he’s gonna keep suing Hollis?” Atlas asked as he came up, a bag of Skittles in one hand, and a stick of beef jerky in the other.

“How do you know about that?” I asked.

Atlas gave me a look. “You called my best friend.”

I mentally slapped myself on the forehead.

“Oh, yeah.” I chuckled. “I guess I assumed y’all were still fighting.”

Atlas and Zoey Metz had tried the ‘dating’ thing before. It hadn’t worked out, and for a short time they’d lost their way. That didn’t mean the family didn’t still love Zoey, though.

So, despite them ‘not talking’ we’d still treated her like one of our own.

And since I saw her in the station every other week with a client—she was a fantastic criminal defense attorney—I’d just assumed they were still avoiding each other.

Apparently not.

“I want to listen in,” Auden said as he stood up and headed toward the interrogation viewing room.

They all went, and I gathered my notes before heading that way, too.

I wouldn’t be the one to do the questioning. Another detective by the name of Willis Graves would, and he was damn good at his job.

Plus, I had a bit of a biased opinion of the man. It wouldn’t do to compromise this case in any way.

Holding my hand out for some Skittles from Atlas, we all took a lean against the far wall and listened in while Willis started the questioning.

“Mr. DeRosa, are you sure you want to waive the right for a lawyer?” Willis asked to start.

Taite nodded. “I am.”

Willis glanced at the one-way mirror and gave us a pointed look before beginning.

“What happened on the night of May first?” Willis asked.

Taite looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

“Alana and I broke up,” he said. “We fought. She accused me of fucking someone else. We left pissed as hell at each other. Then I found some girl in the bar as I left for the night, brought her to my hotel room, and fucked her.”

The crude words didn’t cause any of us to flinch. But I did curl up my nose at his apparent uncaring attitude toward the life that was lost.

“I don’t even know her name,” Taite said. “When we were done, she started getting dressed, and that’s when Alana showed up. Shit was said between her and I, and I sent the girl home. She left, running the entire way, and Alana yelled at me some more. I got pissed as hell and left, deciding to see if I could piss her off some more by finding that girl. I found her, too. At the gas station. I asked her to get into my car, and that’s when Alana roared up in her car. We fought some more, and at some point I pushed the girl away from me and she fell. She hit her head on the corner of the building, and I don’t know. I just freaked. Alana left, and I stuffed the girl in a garbage bag in hopes that she wouldn’t be found.”

I shook my head, not wanting to hear anymore.

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