going to take these cuffs off in a minute for the lineup, Coughlin, but just remember, one false move—”
“What lineup?”
“Shut up.”
Osher gave him another shove. All four men looked up. Jackstone took a quick step in their direction. He was a good cop. “Problem, Thad?”
“No problem. Right, Coughlin?”
Alex met Jackstone’s eyes. “Osher arrested me, but he won’t tell me the specific charge. He also won’t let me call my lawyer.”
Derek’s frown deepened. Osher scowled. “Plenty of time for that after the lineup.”
Alex spun around fast enough to make Osher back up again. “What lineup? I want to know why I’m being held.”
“You read him his rights, Thad?”
“Of course I did.”
“Osher’s never heard of illegal harassment,” Alex told Jackstone. “I think my lawyer is going to have to instruct him.”
“Take the cuffs off, Thad,” Derek said. “Mr. Coughlin isn’t going to cause us any trouble. Isn’t that right?”
“Not at all,” Alex told him pleasantly. “I plan to cause Osher here a great deal of trouble, but all of it will be legal, I promise.”
When Osher would have shoved him again, Jackstone quickly stepped between them.
“Back off, Derek,” Osher demanded.
“You’re letting him bait you, Thad. Let him go.”
“No way. I’m personally going to see this smart-mouthed punk is put away until he’s too old to hold a fork.”
Alex stared hard at Osher’s ruddy complexion. “Even if it means you have to manufacture evidence?”
Osher shoved Jackstone aside. He gripped Alex’s shirt-front. Coffee foully laced his breath. “I don’t have to manufacture anything, Coughlin. We’ve got an eyewitness to that shooting last night. That should put you away for a very long time.”
“That’s enough, Thad,” Jackstone said quickly. “Let him go and get those cuffs off him. We’ve got an audience, in case you forgot. The chief isn’t going to like this.”
Osher muttered a vicious oath, but he released the cuffs. Alex rubbed his chafed wrists openly, while trying to think back to the events of the night before. Eyewitnesses were notoriously unreliable, but what if this one did pick him out?
“Come on, Coughlin,” Jackstone said quietly. “Let’s get this over with.” He opened the door to the interrogation room.
“This is your idea of an official lineup?”
“We aren’t equipped with all the bells and whistles, but this will do,” the young officer replied.
“My lawyer’s going to be rubbing his hands with glee.”
Osher cursed again, but allowed Jackstone to lead Alex into the room. Alex heard the lock click on the door behind them. The room was empty except for a table and three chairs. One wall had a two-way mirror. Alex resisted the urge to make a childishly rude gesture in that direction. Instead, he sauntered over to perch on the edge of the tabletop.
He stared directly into his own face, careful to keep his features as expressionless as possible, while mentally reviewing his actions the night before. Who was their witness? And exactly what had the person seen?
The witness could be one of the shop owners who’d stepped out back, or a customer in the parking lot, or even someone in one of the apartments over the shops. None of the stores had rear-facing windows. Fortunately, that meant the witness couldn’t be Nicki. She’d been inside her shop all night, right up until the gunshots had sounded.
Alex frowned. Once he’d learned about her craft shop, he’d deliberately stayed away from that part of town. The last thing he could afford was the complication of running into Nicki Michaels again after all this time. But everything had changed last night with a single phone call. All his good intentions dissolved. He’d stood across the street and watched her move around inside her store while he remembered things that were better left forgotten.
“Stand up, Coughlin.” Osher’s voice came from a speaker on the wall in the corner. “Everyone needs to stand against the rear wall and face the mirror.”
Jake Collins frowned. So did one of the other two men Alex didn’t know. In fact, that man looked decidedly nervous. Alex paid him a little more attention, especially when he found himself sandwiched between Collins and the stranger. The man’s jeans were crusted with dirt and greasy stains. He smelled of motor oil and sweat and stale cigarettes. He had a working man’s hands. Dirt was caked under the split and broken fingernails. Alex wondered who he was and what he was doing here in Fools Point. A drifter? They didn’t get many of those here in town.
One at a time, Osher had the men take a step forward and stand in profile. Despite the fact that all of them had dark hair and were of a similar build, if someone had seen Alex in the alley last night, they weren’t going to be fooled by this charade. Most police forces didn’t bother with lineups any more. They showed victims or witnesses pictures instead, but Osher was making it blatantly clear who he wanted this witness to point out. Chief Hepplewhite had picked a bad week to take his wife into D.C. for medical evaluation.
Hepplewhite was a good cop. Smart, thorough, with no axes to grind. Osher, on the other hand, couldn’t find a clue if he was stepping on one. Alex stepped back and waited to be denounced. Minutes later, Osher’s voice filled the room again. This time, he sounded disgusted.
“Okay, let’s do it one more time.”
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The witness hadn’t picked him out. But then, what had the witness seen last night? He was going to have to find the person and have a little talk.
“TAKE ANOTHER LOOK, Ms. Michaels. A good look this time.”
Nicki couldn’t do anything else. Her insides had twisted the moment the four men had walked into the room. Alex Coughlin, big as life and twice as sexy, had strolled over to perch on the edge of the table. He stared straight into her eyes. Suddenly, she was sixteen again and desperately in love.
He had to be almost thirty-four by now. And he still needed a haircut and a shave. She almost smiled. Then she realized her fingers were half-raised as if to stroke that cheek. She clutched her hands together as Sergeant Osher spoke to the men.
Nicki shook her head to rid it of the wash of bittersweet memories. This was hardly the time or the place.
“Ms. Michaels, you aren’t even trying,” Osher protested. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’ll protect you.”
She pulled her arm away from his annoying touch. “I’m not the least bit afraid, Sergeant Osher. But, like I told you, it all happened fast. It was very dark outside. I’ve complained to city hall about that broken streetlight behind the store several times. No one does anything.”
“Ms. Michaels, I know it was dark, but you were right there.
