All I've Ever Wanted by Adrianne Byrd

late.”
    â€œAbout what time?”
    â€œA little after midnight.”
    Both men nodded in satisfaction at that revelation.
    Max stood. “Is that every night?”
    The teenager shrugged. “Pretty much, except on the weekends.”
    â€œWhat about last Friday? Were you babysitting for her last Friday?”
    She hesitated before nodding.
    â€œDid she get in around the same time then?”
    â€œNo. Uh, she came home kind of late—later than normal.”
    â€œHow late?” Dossman and Collier asked in unison.
    â€œAbout one o’clock.”
    Max and Dossman exchanged looks as Dossman mouthed the word Jackpot.
    Just then, a key rattled in the lock and everyone turned toward the door.
    â€œGuess who’s home,” an unmistakably feminine voice sang as the door opened.
    Max blinked in surprise at the familiar, angelic face of the waitress he’d met at the diner peered around the door. The woman stopped dead as she noticed him and his partner. Judging by her expression, she was none too pleased to see them.

Chapter 8
    K ennedy practically suffered a mini-coronary as she gazed at the two large men standing in the middle of her living room. She recognized one of them instantly from the restaurant. A cop. They were probably both cops. She stiffened, unsure what to do.
    â€œMs. St. James?” the handsome detective she’d met before asked.
    She swallowed hard, and then answered in a thin whisper. “Yes.” She knew he had recognized her by the way his gaze danced over her as it had at the restaurant.
    As she lowered her gaze she caught sight of a brief smile that fluttered across his lips. Suddenly, shewas incensed. “Is there something I can help you with, officers?”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” the shorter man said, stepping forward, his confusion obvious from his expression as his attention shifted between her and his partner. “I’m Detective Dossman. I take it that you already know my partner, Detective Collier?”
    â€œWe’ve bumped into each other.” Her tone flat-lined. “Eve, go ahead and put Tommy to bed.” She smiled down at her son and added, “I’ll come in and read you a bedtime story in a few minutes.”
    Both Eve and Tommy nodded, then disappeared down the hall.
    Kennedy returned her attention to the policemen. “Now, can I get you two something to drink?” She slid her bookbag from her shoulders and turned to hang it up on the coatrack by the door.
    â€œWe just wanted to ask you a few questions, ma’am,” Detective Collier reinforced.
    Slowly, she turned to face him. “I can’t imagine what for.”
    â€œIt’s about the murder of A.D.A. Marion Underwood.” He gave her the full measure of his solemn gaze. “I’m sure you’ve heard about it.”
    â€œI watch the news.” Cool. Play it cool .
    â€œThen you know that the murder happened not too far from here, around the time you usually arrive home.”
    â€œWhat a coincidence.”
    Collier’s expression darkened. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
    â€œPity.”
    Dossman crossed his arms as if he enjoyed the strained exchange between the couple. “Ms. St. James, what kind of car do you drive?”
    Caught off guard, she flinched. “I don’t have a car.”
    â€œPublic transportation?”
    She thought about lying. Maybe she should say that she usually caught rides with friends. But she knew that it was fruitless to lie about something so trivial and something that could easily be checked.
    â€œâ€˜MARTA is smarter.’” She quoted the city bus line’s popular slogan.
    Collier smiled, and took advantage of the opening. “Isn’t the closest bus stop somewhere up on M.L.K.?”
    Again she was forced to tell the truth. “Yeah, so?”
    â€œSo, you usually walk the rest of the way home?”
    Kennedy drew in an angry breath,