“I told them I was coming to check on you.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
My head jerked back and I stared at her. “What?”
Sydney walked to her door and opened it. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Part of me wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her we would figure this out together, but the other part—the cop in me—knew I needed to walk out the door.
Before I passed her, I leaned down and kissed her. “Be careful. Please don’t do anything without me. Promise me that.”
“I promise,” she said, reaching up and kissing me quickly.
After I made it back to the station, Roger McGregor found me. “I thought you left to check on Sydney?”
“I did, but she wasn’t home.”
The ease with which the lie rolled off my tongue made my skin crawl. The cop in me was pissed at Sydney for taking evidence from the scene. The man in me completely understood why she did it. We all reacted to situations differently, especially when emotions fueled the reaction.
Bill poked his head around the corner. “Mike, can you come with me?”
My stomach dropped. What if Sydney’s here and Doug is arresting her? Would he do that? I wanted to believe he would cut her some slack.
“Sure. What’s going on?” I asked.
He looked at Roger and then back to me. “Sydney just showed up with Wesley Youngsten. He’s acting as her representation.”
“What for?” I asked, standing.
Bill looked as if he didn’t want to say anything in front of Roger, who was one of the homicide investigators on the police force. Doug had wanted me to take on the role, as well, but I had investigated enough homicides when I was a detective on the Chicago PD. I was tired of seeing the ugly side of humanity, and moving to a smaller town like Salem helped me avoid that for the most part.
“Sydney took evidence from the scene.”
“What the fuck?” Roger said, pushing past Bill.
Bill frowned. “I didn’t want to say it in front of him, but he was going to find out.”
I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. “Shit.”
“Yeah, you might want to be there.”
I followed Bill without saying a world.
We walked by the interrogation rooms, but I didn’t see Sydney. “Where are they?” I asked, expecting them to be in one of the rooms.
“Doug’s office.”
I hoped that was a good sign.