my head and trying my damndest to put all the little pieces together.” His eyes shifted to Zane’s face, assuming a sterner expression. “What I’d appreciate is having you come down to the station with me so we can have ourselves a little conversation about how that cuff link of yours just happened to find itself in the bushes outside your stepdaddy’s window.” The fake smile was back as he added, “It couldn’t have just walked there all by itself.”
“There’s a simple explanation for that,” Zane began. He definitely didn’t like what the sheriff was all but flatly stating.
With exaggerated politeness, the sheriff cut him off. “And I am looking forward to hearing that simple explanation—right after I get you to the station. Now, you can either come peacefully, or I can slap the cuffs on you and take you into custody in front of all those nice people in this building. It don’t make no matter to me one way or the other, but I suspect it does to you, Mr. Colton. So I leave it all up to you. The choice is yours.”
“I’ll come peacefully,” Zane answered through clenched teeth, feeling as far from peaceful as humanly possible.
Watkins pushed his Stetson back with the tip of his thumb. “Good choice,” he agreed with exaggerated approval.
Mirabella had been standing by silently all this time. But seeing the sheriff put his hand on Zane’s elbow just now, as if he was about to usher him into the elevator, she suddenly snapped to life.
Moving as quickly as she could, she placed herself in front of the elevator door, barring entrance into the elevator car once it arrived.
“You’d best step out of the way if you know what’s good for you, little lady,” Watkins advised. His tone might have seemed exceedingly friendly, but the look in his eyes held a warning.
Mirabella took no notice. Her attention was entirely focused on Zane. “Do you want me to call the corporate lawyers, Mr. Colton?” she asked, deliberately ignoring the sheriff and his deputy. “Or your personal lawyer?” she suggested in the next breath. She thought that might be the best thing to do, given the way the sheriff was behaving toward Zane.
“No, not yet, Belle,” Zane answered. “I don’t need a lawyer.”
Mirabella tended to disagree. She looked at Zane, worried in addition to feeling sick to her stomach. She knew in her heart that Zane couldn’t have harmed Eldridge in any way, which was more than she could say about some members of the Colton family, who would do anything to advance themselves. But what she thought didn’t matter. And to an outsider, it appeared that Zane really could use some legal counsel.
Especially when the sheriff asked in a voice that bespoke of impending doom. “You sure about that, Mr. Colton? Having your lawyer there might prove to be very...handy,” Watkins finally concluded.
“I’ve got nothing to prove and nothing to hide,” Zane stated flatly. “So, no, I don’t need to have a lawyer present.” His eyes shifted to Watkins. “But thank you for your concern, Sheriff,” he added coldly.
Watkins merely shrugged indifferently. “Suit yourself, Mr. Colton, but I’m going on record as saying I think you’re making a big mistake not having this little lady get you that lawyer of yours.” His gray eyes shifted toward Mirabella. “And you’re my witness, little lady,” he said, emphasizing this fact.
Mirabella clenched her hands into fists, but kept them firmly against her sides. She knew she was expected to keep silent, to just be part of the decor, but she couldn’t in all good conscience say nothing.
“What I’m a witness to, Sheriff Watkins, is one of your bigger mistakes. Mr. Colton didn’t kidnap or harm Mr. Eldridge,” she told him fiercely. “He wouldn’t do something so awful.”
Ordinarily, Watkins would have just ignored her the way he ignored mosquitoes unless they had the misfortune of landing on him. However, he was amused by her bravado. So, the sheriff paused and looked at her.
“And you know this because...”
Mirabella drew herself up to her full height. “Because I have—and use—the common sense the good Lord gave me. Something that you, Sheriff, are apparently lacking.”
Zane had no idea exactly what the sheriff might be capable of if pushed too far. And, in any event, he didn’t want Mirabella drawn into this. There was just something about her that brought out the protector in him.
“Belle, don’t,” he instructed firmly. “It’s going to be all right. You just hold down the fort until I get back.”
She squared her shoulders, resigned, but not defeated. “All right, but I still think you should let me call the lawyer.”
A faint bell dinged, announcing the elevator had arrived.
“Smart girl. You should listen to her,” Watkins advised as he ushered Zane into the elevator car. The deputy got on behind them.
“Maybe later,” Zane retorted.
“Suit yourself. But later might be too late,” the sheriff predicted.
Mirabella’s heart sank as she watched the elevator doors close, cutting off her view of Zane.
She had a bad feeling about this.
Watkins silently walked into the small area that doubled as an interrogation room when it wasn’t being used as a break room by his deputies. Zane had been sitting there for the better part of an hour, waiting for the sheriff to return after he had placed him there, telling him to wait and that he would be back soon.
Obviously they had different definitions of the word soon, Zane thought. But then, he was aware Watkins was toying with him.
Entering from behind Zane, the sheriff dropped a sealed evidence bag on the table right in front of him. The contents of the bag made a small “ping” noise as it made contact with the metal tabletop.
“Now, then,” Watkins declared, “I believe that there is your cuff link, Mr. Colton. You’re not going to waste your breath and my time denying it, are you?” he challenged, sitting down opposite Zane. “What with those pretty initials on it and all, saying Z.C., I figure that cuff link’s gotta be yours.”
Zane looked at the item in question. Even contained in the see-through evidence bag the way it was, the cuff link managed to catch the room’s overhead light. It gleamed almost defiantly as it lay there in the center of the small metal table.
Zane raised his eyes to look at the smug expression on the sheriff’s face. He could see Watkins was just itching for him to deny ownership. The sheriff was a man who relished fighting—and enjoyed winning.
He was not about to give Watkins that satisfaction.
“It’s mine,” Zane replied.
He’d only noticed that the cuff link was missing sometime toward the latter part of the day that his father had been presumably kidnapped. With bigger things to deal with than a missing cuff link, he hadn’t even tried to find it.
Apparently Watkins had.
“Well, I’m glad
