the one time she’d come home early and hit the sack. She hadn’t spent any time doing research at the station, she hadn’t spoken to anyone and she’d had no company. None of her neighbors could confirm she was home. She hadn’t done any work on her home computer, which might have confirmed her whereabouts. Bottom line, she had no alibi.
Disgusted, she shook her head. “Single people all over the world should be terrified of spending a quiet evening at home alone.” If she were married or involved in a relationship, she might have spent time or at least spoken to her plus one that evening.
“There’s more.”
His somber tone caused her heart to skip a beat.
“A pair of panties were found in his bed. There was trace evidence. A pubic hair and a much longer hair...” He touched his head. “They want you to agree to a DNA test.”
The heart that had stumbled a moment ago slammed against her ribs now. “Do you think I should?” Considering her fingerprints were there, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat tentative as to how to proceed. “I know I haven’t been in his house or his bed, so I have nothing to hide, but my fingerprints were there.” She pressed a hand to her throat. “If someone is setting me up...”
He reached into his folder and removed another photograph. “Do you recognize these?”
The red panties in the photograph stole her ability to draw in air. She shot to her feet and rushed to her bedroom. Opening drawer after drawer, she rifled through her things and then slammed each door closed in turn. Her pulse pounding, she moved to the laundry hamper.
The panties weren’t there.
Teller stood at her bedroom door, worry lining his face. “Lots of women have red panties. My wife has red panties. How can you be sure you recognize these?”
Her lungs finally filled with air. “The little bows.” She paused to release the big breath she’d managed to draw in. “There should be a little satin red bow on each side. One is missing. It annoys me every time I see it. I’ve meant to throw them away...”
Of course any woman with red panties that sported little red bows could be missing a bow. In her gut, Amber knew better than to believe it was a mere coincidence. Her red one-bowed panties were missing. There was a teacup in the man’s house, for God’s sake, with her prints on it. She didn’t need a DNA test to prove a damned thing. The hair and any other trace evidence would be hers, as well. Whoever wanted her to appear guilty had done a bang-up job.
Douglas appeared behind Teller. “Is everything okay?”
No. Everything was not okay. In fact, nothing was okay.
“I’ll do the DNA test,” Amber said to the man representing her.
Teller gave her a resigned nod. “I’ll set it up.”
Dear God. She was in serious trouble here.
The mouthpiece hung around awhile longer, asking more questions and making Amber even more upset. Sean had heard of the guy. All the rich folks in Jefferson County used him. Teller didn’t need billboards or commercials with catchy jingles. The family name got him all the business he would ever need. It didn’t hurt that he had a reputation for being the best damn attorney in town.
Sean turned his attention back to assessing Amber’s place. If the items found in the victim’s residence were Amber’s and she hadn’t put them there, someone had been in her home. The reality likely hadn’t sunk in for her just yet. It would hit her soon enough. It was time to start considering who would want to see Amber go down for murder. There had to be an old schoolmate or ex-bestie, maybe even a competitor at a rival television station with a grudge against her. Revenge, jealousy, there were all kinds of potential motives.
No matter that he’d only been employed at B&C Investigations for a month, he’d learned a lot from the boss already. Jess had a motto: find the motive, find the killer. When looking for the source of trouble, there was no better advice. The boss didn’t exactly have a lot of confidence in Sean just yet. She’d been reluctant to assign him this case—which was exactly why he had to do the best job possible. Of course, he always wanted to do a good job, but he couldn’t allow even a single misstep this time. He had a feeling the first mistake and he would be out at B&C Investigations.
For damned sure he would never again allow the kind of mistake he’d made on his last security assignment. His bad judgment had cost a life.
His fingers stilled on the back door’s lock mechanism. How could he blame Jess Burnett for not fully trusting him? No matter that he had years of outstanding work history under his belt, his last assignment for his former employer had gone to hell. The only reason he’d gotten the job with B&C Investigations was because Buddy Corlew and Sean’s older brother, Chase, were friends. They’d played high school football together—against each other, actually. Chase had warned Sean that a year of moping around was enough. Sean had to get on with his life. During his time in Hollywood he’d built up considerable savings. Private security in the entertainment world paid extremely well. Finding a new job hadn’t been necessary the first year after he returned home, but his brother was right. Sean had to get on with at least part of his life. His personal life might never recover from his mistake with Lacy, but there was no excuse for allowing his professional life to stay in the toilet.
“Is there something wrong with my door?”
Amber’s question snapped him from his worrisome thoughts. He closed the door and shook his head. “I’ve checked front and back doors, and so far no sign of forced entry. The windows are next.”
A frown dragged down the corners of her lips. She had nice lips. Full and pink. Her red hair and green eyes were a vivid contrast to her pale skin. The sprinkling of freckles across her nose she worked so hard to cover with makeup made him want to smile. She was a gorgeous lady, no doubt, but not the kind of overdone Hollywood beauty he’d disliked in California. Amber’s was natural and completely unpretentious. He’d been watching her and fantasizing for months.
Fantasies and casual encounters were all he had anymore. He wasn’t sure he would ever trust himself in a real relationship again, and he would never permit work to become personal. Of course, his brother warned him that a guy still six months from thirty shouldn’t be throwing in the towel.
Realization dawned in the lady’s pretty green eyes. “You think someone broke into my home and took my...the evidence the police found.” The frown reappeared. “But how did they get my prints on the teacup?”
When he looked confused, she quickly explained about the evidence the BPD had discovered in the murder victim’s home.
Sean inspected the second of three kitchen windows. “Trust me,” he said in answer to her question, “there are ways to get into any place—home or business—if a person wants in badly enough.”
Amber followed him into the living room. She watched silently as he confirmed the windows were locked and that all the locking mechanisms were in working order.
“You mean like overriding security codes?”
“That’s one way, yes.” He shrugged. “Folks who make it their business to break and enter can unlock about any
