force trauma to the head is what we’re guessing right now. We won’t know for sure until the ME gets him to the lab.”
“Right, of course.” She nodded.
“Kels? You’re going to have to come to the station. Because if you were in that room and saw some kind of altercation on the balcony, you were the last one to see—or rather, hear—Michael alive before whoever killed him.”
“I’m coming in as a witness, right? Not a suspect.”
The look on Clay’s face said all she needed to know. Treasure Point may be the place that raised her, the happy home for her growing-up years. But almost from the day she’d turned eighteen the town had been nothing but kryptonite for her, some ridiculous weakness that rendered her powerless and made her feel sick. She wished she could just turn around and leave right now. But that wasn’t an option.
She needed this assignment in order to secure her place at the Harlowe Company, a prestigious antiques insurance company in Savannah. But Kelsey also needed this job to finish as quickly as possible, needed to get her feet as far away from this particular bit of red Georgia clay as she could. Treasure Point was nothing but trouble for her.
“Did you hear me?”
No, she hadn’t heard anything Clay had said after she’d seen the facial expression that answered all her questions. “I didn’t. What did you say?”
“If it was up to me, you’d only be a witness. But I’m afraid Davies is wanting to treat you as a suspect.”
Suspect. The word she’d only narrowly managed to avoid in the case that caused her departure from Treasure Point not too many years ago. She hated when her integrity was questioned.
“Let’s go, then.” She glanced toward the museum. “Although with that lights-off stunt not too long after what I saw on the balcony, there’s a good chance I’m going to need to be back here soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Something is likely missing or vandalized. It’s going to be my job to assess that.” Her words came out tight, pointed. She felt bad that she was directing them at Clay, one of the nicest guys she’d ever known. But the prospect of being questioned about a crime she didn’t commit was enough to put anyone in a lousy mood.
Anyway, Clay was probably thinking along the same lines already. Cutting the lights was a common gambit for upscale thieves, allowing them to snatch something that had, only moments before, been in plain sight. Perhaps the curator had caught a thief in the act of tampering with the wiring prior to the blackout. Was that why he had died?
She reminded herself not to jump to conclusions. She’d barely met the curator and had been away from town too long to know the current gossip. There could be a dozen reasons someone might have wanted the man dead.
Before she could apologize, before Clay could reply, another man walked their direction, tall and a little intimidating. Lieutenant Davies.
“He read you your rights yet?”
Kelsey couldn’t stifle her laugh. “Rights? Davies, I used to work with y’all. I know my rights and if you have a brain in your head, you’ll realize I’m innocent.”
“Are you verbally assaulting an officer?” His serious face didn’t change. He’d always been a man who’d done his job well, but personally he and Kelsey had never gotten along.
She shook her head. “You know I’m not. But you also know I’m not a killer.”
“I guess we’ll see. I’ll spare you the cuffs, anyway, as long as you move slow. Let’s go get in the car.”
Kelsey followed him without another word. She climbed into the back of the police car—definitely a first for her—and looked out the window, at the museum, for as long as she could before they drove out of view.
Straight to the place where she’d first started to realize she might not be good at everything she put her hand to. She’d already faced disgrace at the Treasure Point police station. Was she about to face murder charges there, too?
Sawyer had gone back inside after watching Kelsey exit. But though the lights had come back on in short order, the party atmosphere had already vanished. All the guests had been herded into the main gallery, where the police had announced that no one would be allowed to leave until everyone had given a statement.
That had been over an hour ago. A young police officer Sawyer didn’t recognize had taken down his contact information and asked him some questions about the party—what his connection was to the museum, what he had seen and heard, who he had talked to. The kid had been annoyingly vague when Sawyer had tried to ask some questions of his own—namely, asking what on earth was going on. Clearly something wasn’t right here. But none of the guests he’d spoken to in the past hour had the slightest idea what the problem was, and the police were being very closed-mouthed.
He wanted answers, and while he seldom used his family name to his advantage, he started looking around for a Treasure Point police officer who might give him some information.
There. Clay Hitchcock. No use of his family name would be necessary, since the two of them had been friends, had played football together back in high school—Sawyer was the quarterback to Clay’s receiver.
“Clay!” Sawyer jogged in his direction. “I need to talk to you.”
“Is it about all this?” He gestured around him. “Because otherwise it needs to wait.”
“I’m not sure. Kelsey...”
“What about her? Did she tell you something?”
“No, she didn’t. I just... She seemed really shaken up when the lights went off. She went from acting like she hated me to asking for my help and I don’t understand what happened or where she went. I haven’t seen her since then, which is weird, since I know y’all aren’t allowing anyone to leave.”
“You spoke to her after the lights went out? What did she want?”
“Just for me to use my flashlight to help her find her way to the door.”
“So you helped her and then?”
“She ran.”
Clay nodded. “I saw her after that. She’s at the station now.”
“The police station?” Sawyer frowned. “Is she okay?” Nothing about this was making sense to him.
“She is for now. Or she will be soon. But at the moment, she’s answering some questions for us.”
“I don’t understand.”
Clay shook his head. “I’m sorry, man. It’s all I can say for now.” He started to walk away, then glanced back at Sawyer. “You and Kelsey were talking? I didn’t realize you were friends.”
They weren’t, apparently, judging by her attitude toward him. Though he supposed he hadn’t helped matters
