Triple Dare. Candace Irvin

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Triple Dare - Candace  Irvin

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of dealing with crime and death. She decided on the latter when he didn’t bother shifting his foam cup of coffee from his right hand so he could extend it to her.

      He didn’t even glance at Dare. “I’m Detective Pike, Ms. Pembroke. Homicide. As soon as the paramedics have had a chance to look at you, I’ll need you to come down to the station, fill out an official statement, answer a few questions.”

      “I’m sorry, Detective. I’m afraid I can’t go anywhere with you. Not tonight. I need to get my brother home, into bed.”

      Pike shook his head. “I’m afraid I insist.” He glanced into the cruiser, his impatience barely concealed beneath a swift sip of steaming coffee. “From what the EMT tells me, your brother’s not going to be any help. Kid doesn’t remember a thing. Though I suppose we could always try hypnosis.”

      “No.”

      The man shrugged. “Well, in that case, can’t you call a friend? Or better yet, just drop him somewhere on the way?”

      That was it. She’d had more than enough.

      She might have misinterpreted Dare’s feelings toward her brother and missed Stuart’s altogether, but there was no mistaking this moron’s. She didn’t care if the man was overworked, she didn’t care if he was the next chief of police. Abby stepped forward, smack into the detective’s personal space. “Drop him? Just what do you think my brother is, a—”

      Dare’s fingers encircled her arm before she could finish, warm, calming. “Let it go, Abby. It’s not worth it. Not tonight. Besides, he can’t make you go anywhere.”

      Her anger ebbed. Dare was right.

      She allowed him to nudge her back to the side of the cruiser. Dare, however, had remained well inside the detective’s personal space. She had the distinct impression he and Pike knew each other. That they’d butted heads before. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? As a homicide detective, Pike dealt with the underbelly of the city, not its upper crust.

      She pushed the thought aside as that same homicide detective finally bowed beneath Dare’s molten glare. “I’m sorry, Ms. Pembroke.”

      Abby crossed her arms, holding fast to her determination to get her brother home as quickly as possible. Despite Dare and the paramedic’s assurances, she’d feel better after her brother’s doctor examined him. “I meant what I said, Detective. I need to leave now. However, I’m perfectly willing to stop by your station in the morning to sign a statement.” She gathered what little dignity she had left and waved off the paramedic as he stepped forward. “Thank you, but I’m fine. My head doesn’t even hurt anymore. If I could just have my brother’s glasses, we’ll be leaving.”

      Before either could argue, Ryder, the officer who’d helped her as she regained consciousness, approached the cruiser. Ryder leaned in swiftly to whisper something to the detective, then nodded behind him to where another cop and a pair of scrambling paramedics jerked an occupied gurney to a stop just shy of the back of an ambulance to labor over their patient again.

      The limo’s driver? Or the van’s?

      Whoever it was, the frantic pace of treatment didn’t bode well. Abby sent up a prayer for both men as Dare retrieved a slim cell phone from an inner coat pocket.

      He captured her stare. “I’ve already called a cab. It’ll be here any moment. I’ll see you and your brother home.” His tone left no room for argument.

      She didn’t mind. She was even grateful. Anything to get away from this place and that jerk of a detective.

      Unfortunately that same jerk of a detective stepped closer. “Afraid not, Sabura. You can’t talk yourself—or rather her—out of this one.”

      What was that about?

      She had no idea. But Dare did. She was sure of it. The odd glint in the stare he’d shot the detective moments earlier returned, and it wasn’t due to Pike’s sarcastic familiarity. The men did know each other. But from the way their stares had locked, their past hadn’t been forged through friendship.

      Dare frowned. “Give it up, Pike. You can’t hold her. She’s not even a witness. Other than the knife, she didn’t see a blessed thing.”

      True. But how did he know that?

      She snagged Dare’s arm. “What’s going on?”

      Pike shrugged. “That’s what we’d like to know.” He tipped his cup toward the gurney and the still laboring paramedics as the EMT answered a shouted summons to join the others. “According to that poor schmuck, you’re more than just an accidental bystander, Ms. Pembroke.”

      She dug her nails into Dare’s arm as she struggled to ward off the sudden dizziness that threatened.

      Was he implying she knew the guy on that gurney?

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