Special Assignment. Ann Voss Peterson

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Special Assignment - Ann Voss Peterson Mills & Boon Intrigue

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that one? I’m a cop.

      “Well, I’m not,” she said out loud.

      When he returned his gaze to her face, he wasn’t surprised to see she was watching the deputies brief his lieutenant. A tall county sheriff’s detective with a craggy face and salt-and-pepper hair spoke slowly and deliberately. His lips had to be a piece of cake for Cassie to read, even from this distance.

      So much for his worry over her getting more involved.

      They determined the path of entry was through the sliding glass door in the workout room. Cassie translated what she was seeing into sign language. Never mind that we told them we came in that way, she added.

      Mike couldn’t prevent a chuckle from escaping. Cassie was handling this whole ordeal with humor and attitude that surprised him. She certainly could roll with difficult circumstances. Probably better than he could.

      They talked to Evangeline, Cassie continued. She confirmed that we were here to talk to Mr. Kardascian about a case for PPS…but when they asked to see her client files, she told them to get a warrant.

      That Evangeline was a tough cookie. Mike would expect nothing less. The prospect of trying to get information out of her was almost enough to make him grateful he wasn’t on the investigation end of this case…almost. As long as his hunch was wrong and he wasn’t a suspect.

      Officer Hawley turned away from the group. He surveyed the cabin, pausing on Mike. His eyes latched on to Cassie just as she commenced signing.

      Damn.

      They found something. Cassie’s fingers flew.

      Mike laid a hand on her arm.

      She held up a hand and nodded that she saw him, but she didn’t tear her gaze from the sheriff’s detective’s lips and she didn’t still her hands. Something in the bushes outside the glass door.

      Hawley started toward them.

      They found a weapon…the murder weapon…a gun… She turned to look at Mike, her eyes wide.

      Oh, hell.

      “What is she doing?” Hawley closed in on them. “She’s reading lips, isn’t she? She’s reporting every word.”

      On the sidewalk, the cluster of cops broke up. The LT and Grady stayed on the sidewalk, two deputies headed their way.

      Mike held up his hands, trying to head off the thuggish Denver PD officer. “Back off, Hawley.”

      Cassie just stared at Mike as if oblivious to Hawley or the sheriff’s deputies, a stricken look on her face.

      Hawley reached for Cassie’s arm. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to come with me.”

      Mike took a step forward. “She doesn’t have to go anywhere.”

      “Who are you to decide a damn thing, Lawson? You’re suspended. You’re not even a cop anymore. If you were ever really a cop in the first place.”

      Good. At least Hawley’s focus was on him, not Cassie. “What do you mean by that?”

      An ugly sneer twisted Hawley’s handsome face. “Cops don’t sell out their own.”

      “Whoa. Hold on.” The county detective caught up to Hawley, shooting him a look as if to remind him he was in the county’s jurisdiction and he’d better know his place. “Your lieutenant wants to see you.”

      Officer Ted Hawley might be a jerk, but he had the good sense to retreat, even though all of them knew the LT hadn’t said a word. Mike eyed the county man. “What’s going down, Detective?”

      “Lawson, you need to take a trip to the sheriff’s offices with us.”

      Mike’s gut plummeted. In his mind’s eye, he replayed the look Cassie had given him. Shock. Fear. He hadn’t been able to pay attention with Hawley homing in, but he thought it had something to do with the gun they’d found. The murder weapon. His gun? The service pistol he’d lost? Was that it? He eyed the detective. “Why? What’s going on?”

      “Come with me and I’ll fill you in on the details.”

      More like he’d interrogate him eight ways from Sunday. Damn. Mike had been wanting more information, but being the suspect in this investigation was a bit more inside than he had in mind. Next time he really had to be more careful about what he wished for. “Should I call my union representative?”

      “You really want to lawyer up, Lawson? Or would you rather clear this up?”

      The same question he’d ask if a suspect started making noises about calling in legal representation. Mike glanced at Cassie. Still, if he went willingly and didn’t piss the detective off, maybe he could keep Cassie out of this mess. “I’ll go. But Ms. Allen doesn’t have anything to do with this. Someone needs to take her back to the Prescott Personal Securities office.”

      The county detective’s expression was a perfect blank. “Sorry. We need to talk to her, too.”

      CASSIE’S FINGERS SHOOK as she signed the same thing to the blank-faced sheriff’s deputy for what had to be the fifth time. Mike Lawson didn’t kill that man.

      The deputy shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. If you’ll just take a seat, I’ll see if I can contact someone who knows sign language.”

      Cassie pushed out a frustrated breath. After a few cursory questions, the deputy who had transported her to the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department in Golden had told her she was free to go. In the two hours since, she’d been trying to get someone to listen to her pleas of Mike’s innocence. Meanwhile they were raking Mike over the coals for the murder of a man he’d tried to save.

      She forced her voice to work, feeling the uncertain vibration in her vocal chords. “Mike Lawson didn’t kill that man.”

      He gave her a gentle smile. No, not gentle. Patronizing. Pitying. The reason she hated to speak out loud.

      “You already spoke to a detective, didn’t you?”

      “Yes. But he didn’t listen.”

      “I assure you, he listened. And he’ll get in touch with you if he has any more questions or concerns. You gave him your contact information? Your home address?” He rounded his mouth with each word, speaking deliberately as if to a frightened child. One who couldn’t speak English. And she’d just bet that his voice was raised to the level of a shout, as well.

      Cassie felt like growling. She’d bet that would inspire an interesting response in this guy. “He has my home address, my work address and every other type of contact information known to man. What he doesn’t have is the truth.”

      “That is what the investigation is for, ma’am.”

      “No kidding.”

      “Listen, I don’t know what you expect me to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job.” Another pitying smile and the deputy walked away.

      Cassie

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