Page 66 of Dead Man's Alibi

Cal let out a slow breath.Missing.They weren’t denying a report existed.They were denying they couldfindit.Which just… didn’t feel accidental.Maybe it was.Maybe he should believe it was.

But he didn’t.

What the absolute hell?“How?”

“She really didn’t know.She was so flustered.She said they had an email in with the IT company they use, but I might just be out of luck unless I knew who’d taken the report.Then I could talk to them and see if they remembered or had personal notes.”

“Out of luck?”When had any of them beeninluck?

This was just another brick of weird, shitty things that made it harder to get Nate out of jail.He wanted to… punch something.Smash his fist into the concrete wall.

And hecouldn’t.“There are too many weird things.Too many fucking obstacles.”

“I’m sorry,” Jill said, so gentle and genuine.“You’ve got so much on your plate.I hate adding to it.But I knew it’d be important.”

It was important.He wished he didn’t know it anyway.Wishedsomethingwas straightforward, instead of another point ofmaybeconspiracy ormaybejust police incompetence.

“Are you okay?”

The question was sonice.Honestly worried for him.And he felt a strange and compelling desire to say,No.No, I am not okay.Let me tell you all the ways I am not okay.Not because he wanted to scare her off—though he should—but because it seemed like unburdening himself to her would just be acomfort.

Since when do you deserve that?“Thanks for coming by and letting me know,” he said, sounding stiff even to his own ears.

But it was the only defense he had against this heady desire to communicate, connect.

“Right.Of course.”She nodded, and she was clearly trying to hide the fact his curt tone had hurt her feelings.“I’ll just get out of your hair.”

She started to move toward the door and all he could think was…God, he wanted her in his hair.There was just something about her…presence.It made him feel so damn normal.And he wasn’t, God knew, but it was a nice fleeting feeling, and he hated when it went away.

“Wait.”He said it without quite knowingwhyor what he planned to do with thatwait.

She stopped at the door, turned to face him expectantly.

He didn’t have any quick excuses.Any bright ideas to keep her here.He had nowords.

She was just so damn pretty.And earnest.Stopping by to try to help him.But it never felt like she pitied him.Maybe it was the relationship with her grandmother.She understood trauma better than a lot of people who’d never suffered it.

He didn’t want her to look at him and think of trauma, but there was no choice there.He couldn’t hide it.She’d already seen it.

Maybe that was why she felt so different.

“I just…” He always knew what to say.

Whether it be to a woman, his family, in a courtroom.He always had the words.To make any moment exactly what he wanted to be, even if it was ill-advised.

He didn’t right now.He just wanted to know what it would be like.

To forget all theshouldsandshouldn’tsand litany of things holding him back and just engage in what he wanted.

Which washer.

He inhaled, the admission of that in his head was doing a lot of damage to all those walls he kept so firmly in place.Because now, admitting it, all he could think was…

What was the worst thing that would happen if he just kissed her now?He kept living in all the worst things that could happen, so why not just go for broke on that score?

Before he could make a move, his phone trilled.

A reminder from the universe that he had no business thinking such things.He pulled the phone out of his pocket, surreptitiously putting some space between himself and Jill as he glanced at the screen.