Page 16 of A Violet Obsession

“Sit down.” His hand finds my wrist a second time, this time leaving it there as his hard stare meets mine.

I could pull away if I wanted to, but inexplicably I settle back in the chair.

“I’m not buying the it’s-just-a-misunderstanding act. That might work on Emma, but it’s not going to work on me.”

My jaw locks. “It’s not an act.”

“No?” He pulls his phone from his pocket with his free hand and sets it face-up on the table between us. I catch the headline before he turns the screen toward me.

Armed Robbery at Clairmont Fine Auctions—Two Guards Shot, Suspect Questioned and Released.

My blood goes cold. Suspect. Not an employee. Not a witness.

Shit. They really are going to blame this on me.

“You’ve done your homework.” I keep my voice flat even as my pulse hammers against his fingers. “If you already knew everything that happened before you got here, then it’s clear you didn’t intend for this to be honest conversation. Did you?” I accuse.

His eyes widen at the corners just a smidge.

You weren’t expecting me to call you on it, were you? Dick.

“I know what the article says.” Finn’s voice is low. “I want to hear your side.”

“Why? So you can decide whether I’m guilty, too?” I meet his gaze and hold it. “You’ve already made up your mind, Finn. I can see it all over your face. It’s been a long twenty-four hours. Let’s skip the part where you pretend to be open-minded and get to whatever threat you came here to deliver. Because that’s why you came, right?”

For a second, I think I’ve pushed too far, but then he releases my wrist.

“Fine. Here it is.” His hazel eyes don’t waver. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in, but if it puts my sister in danger—by accident, by proximity, I don’t care—our next conversation won’t be as friendly.”

“This is friendly?” I scoff, temper fully engaged now. “You want to threaten me? Go ahead. Pretty sure there’s a line.” I lean forward, and the surprise that flickers across his face is deeply satisfying. “But don’t sit there and pretend this is about being some kind of good person, because you haven’t asked me a single question about whether I’m okay. That’s why Emma asked you to come, right?”

His mouth opens and then closes.

“Two guards were shot last night, Finn. I was in that building. I heard the gunshots. I saw the blood.” I hate that my voice wavers. “I spent hours in an interrogation room being told I was the one who did it, no matter how many times I said I wasn’t. And when they let me go, your sister was the first person I wanted to call. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to drag her into something. Which really sucks because she’s the only person in my life who has ever made me feel safe.”

The café noise fills the silence between us. I didn’t mean to say so much, but I’m not sorry either. I’m sick to death of sanctimonious people making snap judgments based on what they assume they know.

His arms uncross slowly. The hard line of his jaw hasn’t changed, but something behind his eyes has.

“Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Were you involved?”

I hold his gaze without blinking. “No.”

He studies me for a long moment. I don’t fidget or look away. I’ve been through worse than Finn Markham’s suspicion.

His shoulders are still tense. “The article says they haven’t made an arrest yet. Which means they don’t have enough to charge you. It also means they’re probably still looking at you as the prime suspect.”

“I’m aware,” I drawl.

“Who was bidding against the buyer?” Finn asks.

“Alaric Voss.”

Something changes in his expression.