“Kleinfield and Summers,” he answered while glancing over his shoulder to see what Rhys was getting into.
“An attorney?”
“Yeah.” He turned to face her. “She called me around nine last night and said she was just leaving to go meet the girls at the Honey Pot.”
“Why was she working so late? I thought attorneys kept banker hours.”
“Because it was the only time that the prick, Senator Hayes, could fit her into his schedule.”
Max stepped up by her side. “She was representing the asshole that wants all shifters to be microchipped?”
“From what I could tell, they weren’t helping him with that. It was something else, but she never told me what.”
Rhys set the picture down and glanced in her direction as if the conversation had just turned interesting.
“When was the last time you saw or talked to Emily?”
“We had lunch together. I told her I was working late, and she mentioned her meeting with the senator and that she was going to go have drinks with the girls at the Honey Pot.”
“You called her a whore. Was she sleeping around?”
“I caught her cheating once before. She begged me to stay, said that she’d only done it so we could be together. She wanted to be a shifter, and I wouldn’t change her.”
“If you knew she was desperate to be changed and willing to seek it from other men, why didn’t you just bite her yourself?”
“Detective…” He glanced back over his shoulder toward Rhys before meeting her gaze again. “She wasn’t my mate. We only get one turn for our mates, and I wasn’t about to waste it on her. We had an easy relationship. I’d told her going into it that, if I found my mate, I’d be leaving her. She knew that from the beginning.”
This was more information that no one had bothered to share with her. If what he’d said was true, then what did it mean that all of those different breeds of shifters had experimented on her and injected their DNA into her veins? Had they lost their rights to turn their mates or did it only matter if teeth were involved? Was it possible they were looking for a way around the one-turn rule?
Rhys rounded the coffee table, moving to her side. He pressed his palm to the small of her back, pulling her from her thoughts.
“I’m going to need the name of the man she cheated on you with and where I can find him.”
“Bert Handcock, and as for where you can find him, he’s buried six feet under at the local cemetery.”
“Did you kill him?”
“Hell no, I wasn’t going to jail for killing that sniveling little shit. Rumor has it he was killed because he didn’t pay his gambling debts.”
“One more question, Martin. Where can we contact you if we have any more questions?”
“I’m staying with my brother on the west side of town. My supervisor has my new contact information,” he answered before collapsing on the couch.
Patrol lights glinted through the curtains. “The forensic team is here to go through her things. We appreciate your time, and I’m sorry for your loss.” She gave him a curt nod before ushering Rhys and his brothers out of the house and leaving the door open for the incoming team and detectives. Rhys and his brothers slid into the SUV, while she stopped, exchanging words with the lead assigned to search the house. She’d explained why Martin had some things packed and asked for the investigator to call her should they find anything out of the ordinary.
Martin stepped out of the house as she finished her conversation. “Hey, Detective…”
“Yeah?”
“I hope you nail this son of a bitch. Emily and I may have had our problems, but she didn’t deserve to die, not for just wanting to be different.”
“No…she didn’t,” Elizabeth mumbled beneath her breath while sliding into the front passenger seat. She pulled out her phone and started making notes as a reminder to check his alibi and Emily’s work. They were getting nowhere fast, and she wondered if Trapp was having better luck on his end.
“Where to next?” Rhys asked, turning the key in the ignition.
“2710 State. Let’s start with Sadie Miller.”
Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside a well-kept small house on the east side of town in one of the older neighborhoods. An elderly lady stood with her body out of sight, peering from behind sheer curtains. Elizabeth stepped out of the SUV and held the door open, leaning back inside. There was something about this lady. Maybe it was the way she didn’t want to be seen or the fact that she’d been watching the street for a reason. Was it because she knew more? Call it gut instinct or intuition. Either way, the boys needed to stand down on this one, or they might run the risk of the woman not talking at all.
