around and headed for the front door, stopping only at the sound of her bare feet tromping along the hardwood right behind him.
“Don’t forget your evidence.” Her tone was mildly condescending.
He paused and turned toward her, painfully aware of how vulnerable she looked standing in front of him. Her long dark hair tousled around her face. Her eyes bright and wide with anger. Hell, he couldn’t blame her for feeling indignant. He would, too, under these circumstances. No one liked to be accused of a crime, much less convicted without a trial.
Backtracking, he pulled a business card out of his pocket and laid it on the table in the entryway. “Officer Tansy is posted in a squad car out front. He’s one of the officers being assigned to protect you from 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m.”
He reached out and took the offending paper from her hand. “Feel free to call me on my personal cell if you need anything.”
Turning, he reached for the knob, opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, pulling it closed behind him. But the soft click of the latch did little to separate him from her. He could still feel her ire as he headed down the sidewalk, motioned to Tansy, crossed the street and climbed into his car.
Adelaide Charboneau was safe for now. But he still hadn’t located Clay Franklin for questioning. Using that detail alone, he’d been able to secure her nighttime protection, but there were still twenty-four hours in a day.
A measure of foreboding circulated in his veins like slow-acting poison. He shook it off, fired the engine and drove away.
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