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

she knew by closing time the night before but she was peeved because I left early, even though she fired me!”
    She broke off long enough to take a breath.
    “Continue,” the detective prompted.
    “So she said that we were going to be shorthanded. I assume she fired whoever it was she decided was stealing from her. I don’t know, but she said if I wanted my job back, I had to go in tonight to work.”
    “I see.”
    Again he glanced to the older man and Jessie looked rapidly between them both as realization dawned. Okay so she was slow but it was suddenly crystal clear why she’d been brought in for “questioning.”
    “You think I did it,” she whispered.
    The detective leaned forward. “Well, let me tell you how it’s been explained to us by eyewitnesses. Ms. Powell calls you into her office. Fires you for stealing money. You get into an argument. You threaten her. A few minutes later, you leave with two police officers. Go home with them. Have a little fun. Then you sneak out when they’re asleep, go back to the pub, get into another argument with Ms. Powell and when she won’t give you back your job, you kill her. Then you go back to Truitt Cavanaugh’s house, slip in while they’re still sleeping, cook some breakfast, pretend nothing’s wrong, tell them you have to be in to work and then you bolt as soon as they leave. Am I getting it right so far?”
    The blood drained from Jessie’s face. She was so numb and freaked out that she honest to God couldn’t even open her mouth. Was this what they thought? Was it what Truitt and Rick thought? They had to have already told this detective everything or else how would he know?
    “Are you suggesting I used them so I could murder someone?” she croaked out.
    The idea sounded so outlandish that all she could do was sit there and stare dumbly as the detective coldly judged her.
    “What I think is that it’s pretty damn convenient that you suddenly take Rick and Truitt up on their proposition when you put them off for weeks. And on a night when you were fired from your job and threatened your former employer. She turns up dead the very next morning and you were present at the crime scene. In fact, it would appear that you were the last person to see her alive. Now you tell me. How does that look?”
    She bolted to her feet again. “I don’t give a damn how it looks. I didn’t do it. She gave me back my job! She obviously fired someone else. Why don’t you question the other employees?”
    “Oh, we’ll question them. We’ve already questioned several. It’s not looking good for you, Miss Callahan. Why don’t you make things easier for all of us and tell us what really happened. Maybe you did go to try and talk her around. Maybe you got upset when she refused. The DA might consider the lesser charge of manslaughter if you tell us exactly what happened.”
    Tears of rage swam in her eyes and it pissed her off that these jackasses would see her cry. Her fingers curled into tight balls and it was all she could do not to punch the condescending jerk right in the face.
    “I didn’t do anything,” she bit out. “And unless you’re arresting me, I’m out of here. Don’t come near me again without a warrant.”
    “You’ll make this a lot easier on yourself if you cooperate now.”
    For the first time the older man spoke and Jessie turned her ire on him.
    “Fuck off. I’m out of here.”
    She stomped toward the door and nearly ran smack into Truitt and Rick, who were standing just outside in the hall. She took a hasty step back as relief made her wilt.
    “Thank God you’re here,” she whispered. “Tell them I didn’t do this. Make them understand.”
    “I can’t do that, Jessie,” Rick said in a formal sounding voice.
    Her brow wrinkled in confusion as she looked between the two men. Rick looked ... stoic. Truitt looked raw, angry, and confused. Yeah, well, join the club.
    Realization hit her with the force of a cement block. They thought