Page 35 of Temptation
Her breath shuddered in and out. In and…
“Take a deep breath.” A disembodied voice. Drifting to her in the darkness. “Pray it’s not your last.”
Chapter Ten
“Hello!” Sloane called as she stretched her body and craned her head. “Is anybody out there?” She yanked hard at the handcuff around her wrist. One around her wrist and one around the leg of what had to be the heaviest table known to man. She’d tried dragging that table with her a few moments ago, and it had barely screeched a few inches. What in the world was the thing made of?
Just how long was she going to be left to just sit and stare at the blank walls in the sheriff’s office? She’d been given fresh clothes, thankfully. An oversized, black sweat suit and some tennis shoes that appeared to be at least ten years old and a size too big. But no way would she complain about the outfit. She was thrilled not to be sitting in Preston’s navy blue shirt any longer.
Preston.
She needed to talk with him. Once more, her head angled toward the door. The closed door. “Hello!” Sloane yelled again. This wasn’t an interrogation room, or at least, not a typical one. There was no one-way mirror to the side through which she’d be watched by the sheriff and her team. The white walls were blank, stark, and the massive conference table filled the room. Yes, that was probably what the room was—a conference room. A meeting space for the deputies, and the small building didn’t have any other place for suspected kidnappers, so she’d been left inside it. “I deserve a phone call! You have to let me make one phone call!” Could anyone hear her? “And I get an attorney!”
The door flew open.
“Ah.” Sloane nodded. “Attorney. Right. That was the magic word, wasn’t it?” Sloane’s wrist twisted against the cuff as she eyed the sheriff. “Have we been formally introduced? I mean, I know you were at the scene last night and at the hospital, but it all was pretty crazy. How about we start over? I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She tried a bright smile.
The sheriff glowered harder at her.
Not a smile fan. Noted. “I’m Sloane Armstrong, and you are…?”
“Sheriff Debra Tooni. Something you know.”
Sloane straightened in her seat. She ignored the throb in her wrist where the cuff had started to bruise her. Technically, she’d probably been bruising herself with all the wrenching on the cuff.
The sheriff shut the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Sloane with clear suspicion. “Why the hell are you in my town?”
“Uh—”
“I’m running your prints right now.”
“I don’t have a criminal record, so my prints aren’t going to turn up any results.”
“What’s your game, Sloane? Why are you here?”
“I’m not playing a game. And I’m here because you arrested me. Without cause, by the way.”
Debra growled.
“You did,” Sloane added. “Look, any good lawyer will get all charges against me thrown out. And, by the way, I feel duty bound to inform you that I happen to know an exceptionally good lawyer. Met her fairly recently. She works for my buddy, Atlas.” A fast exhale. “But I don’t think calling her will be necessary. I’m sure you and I can clear all of this up.”
“Why are you stalking Preston Byron?”
Back to that, huh? Sloane yanked at the cuff. “Can you remove this? I mean, total overkill, am I right? Not like I’ll run out of here.”
Debra glanced at the cuff. Then back at Sloane’s face. “Why are you stalking him?”
“So, let’s take a step back and look at the big picture. If I hadn’t been in the right place yesterday, no one would have known that Preston was taken. He would have been buried, and he could have died in there.” Or maybe he would have dug himself out. Maybe I’m only alive because Preston got us out. But she plowed on determinedly, “If he’d died, no one would have ever found his body, and I suspect that at this very moment, he’d still be in his new grave.” Saying the words sent a shiver running over her body. “Maybe instead of acting like I’m the bad guy, we should just take a moment and acknowledge that I’m sort of responsible for him being alive?”
Debra’s expression truly could have been carved from stone.
Fine. Time for another tactic. Sloane was good at shifting gears. “The search you’re conducting on my belongings is bogus. Nothing in my bags will do you any good. The guy who broke into my room at the inn had no business going inside. Any good judge will toss everything. That’s provided, of course, that I had committed any crime in the first place. And I didn’t. Owning a calendar is not a crime. Having photos of a person is not a crime.”
“Your laptop is password protected.”
Her brows rose. “You tried to access my private laptop?” A whistle escaped her. “Okay, I think I’ve reached my limits. I will be calling that lawyer I previously mentioned. Because this is all a serious overreach.”
Debra moved fast. Faster than Sloane had anticipated. One moment, she was near the door. In the next instant, the sheriff was looming over the table. Looming over Sloane. “I am not in the mood for bullshit.” Sharp and angry. “A man almost died last night.”
