Men Out of Uniform: Three Novellas of Erotic Surrender by Maya Banks, Sylvia Day, Karin Tabke Page A

alibi and denies being present at the bar this morning.”
    Bull’s phone rang and he held up a finger as he turned away to answer it. Rick didn’t pay attention to what was being said. His mind was numb with disbelief. He felt like a complete idiot.
    The coincidence of her deciding to come home with him and Truitt on the same night she’d been fired and made threats against her boss was too staggering to ignore.
    Bull ended his call and turned back around, a grim expression on his face. “You said you left Jessie at your place when you were called out?”
    “Yeah,” Rick said.
    “Jones just picked her up outside her apartment. He’s bringing her in now.”

     
    Jessie sat in the interview room of the police station, her stomach tight and her nerves shot. No one had told her crap about why she was here, only that she was being questioned. For what? And why?
    She supposed she shouldn’t have agreed to come. They weren’t arresting her so she had a right to refuse, right? The truth was, she’d been so intimidated by the hulking police officer who’d not so politely “asked” her to come into the station with him, that she’d mechanically gotten into his car—into the backseat of his car like some damn prisoner.
    She was mortified by the idea of anyone seeing her, and by the stares that had been cast her way when the officer had escorted her into the station.
    He’d seated her inside a small room that had only a table and chairs. It was cold and sterile and it heightened her unease.
    Could something have happened to Truitt and Rick? But surely no one would know to say anything to her. Unless maybe they’d mentioned her in some way?
    She shook her head. It did no good to speculate. All she had to do was wait and then she’d be able to go home.
    She sat for what seemed like forever. It was silent and empty. She could walk out, surely. They couldn’t hold her here. The door was wide open. Was it a test?
    She shook her head for a second time. She was losing her mind and she was paranoid.
    Finally two men entered the room. One was an older man with graying hair, dark bushy eyebrows, and wrinkles around his piercing eyes. He carried himself with authority, but it wasn’t him who took a seat in front of her. He stood off to the side, arms crossed as he stared her down.
    Discomfited by his regard, she turned her attention to the man in front of her. Then she swallowed because he looked like he could squash her like a bug.
    “Miss Callahan. I’m Detective Phillips. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
    “Okay,” she breathed out. “What about? Is something wrong? Did something happen to Truitt and Rick?”
    Detective Phillips’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll ask the questions here. Earlier this morning, Merriam Powell was found murdered in her office at Powell’s Pub.”
    Jessie’s mouth dropped open. She slapped her palms on the table and shot to her feet. “That’s not possible! She was alive. I saw her. I talked to her. And I locked up after I left.”
    The detective’s eye flickered and he glanced over at the older man who still stood to the side.
    “So you admit to being at the pub this morning.”
    Jessie frowned and eased back down into her chair. “Of course I do. I went to see her about my job. We talked maybe ten minutes and then I left.”
    “And what time was this?”
    She put a hand to her head and rubbed. “Five I think? It was close to five. I woke early and knew she’d leave by six and I needed to catch her.”
    “Were you angry? Did you argue?”
    “No. Not at all. I fully intended to argue my case. You see, the night before she accused me of stealing money from the register but it was complete crap because I never touch the register. She fired me and at first I was going to let it go, but I can’t afford to lose any days. So I went to her office to tell her that it was bullshit and that I needed my job. But when I got there she told me she knew I hadn’t taken the money and that