Kenton just stared back at Malone.
The cop’s eyes narrowed. “Sure hope you plan to do a better job of watching Lora’s ass. I’d hate to see her wind up like—”
Kenton sprang to his feet and lunged across the table with his arms out and his hands fisted.
Oh, hell. “Ramirez… get in there!”
But Sam had Kenton. She grabbed his arm. “Kenton, easy.”
Monica could tell by his face that easy was the last thing Kenton was feeling.
“Are you threatening her?” Kenton demanded in a voice that was barely human.
“I’d never threaten, Lora. She’s my friend. I want her safe.”
“Do you?” Still that low rumble. “Or do you just want her to pay? Is she guilty, too? Because she rejected you? Just once, right? That’s all you said she wanted.”
Monica saw the cop’s hands flex, as if getting ready for a punch. Kenton was pushing all the right buttons.
Let’s see what happens when Malone’s control breaks.
“I wouldn’t hurt her!”
“Then tell us where you were,” Sam said. So calm in the face of that male storm. “For every kill, give us an alibi.” Her quiet voice seemed to settle Kenton.
Kenton took a deep breath and slowly eased away from her and back into his chair. “That’s right, that’s all you have to do. You’re innocent? We’re wasting our time? Then tell us where you were and all this goes away.”
“Start with Jennifer.” Sam pushed her file across the table. “Where were you on the eighteenth of October?”
“I’m supposed to remember that?”
“Yeah,” Kenton told him. “You are.”
The guy spun away and faced the mirror.
Monica studied him and noted the tense lines on Malone’s face. A lot of rage. And some fear. Now why would the fear be there? Phoenix didn’t strike her as a man who was afraid.
More like desperate for attention. Fame. He’d called the news station because he wanted his fifteen minutes. He’d demanded them.
Then attacked Lora because he hadn’t gotten them.
“You’re not gonna believe this, but I was fishing at my uncle’s cabin near Pontlock Lake.”
“And I’m not going to believe it because?”
Malone’s shoulders drooped a bit. “I was alone. I remember—I remember the date because my captain had to call me in.”
“Called on his cell phone,” the gravelly voice of Captain Lawrence told her. They were the first words he’d said the whole time that she’d been in the room.
Monica glanced over at him, brows rising. “He didn’t have a direct line at the cabin?”
The captain shook his head. Deep grooves bracketed his mouth and eyes. The captain looked older today. Much, much older. And that arrogance she’d seen before? Gone.
“What about the others?” Sam asked, flipping through the files. “Tom Hatchen? Charlie Skofield—”
“Dammit, I was here!”
“Um, no.” Sam looked up at him. “I checked the station log. You were off-duty for all those attacks.”
“No, no.” He turned, giving Monica a side profile view as he ran his hand through his hair again. “Wait, wait! I was here, don’t you remember? When the call came in from Phoenix? I was here, so there’s no way it could have been me! We’d just finished up that damn briefing and—”
“You weren’t in the bullpen when the call came in,” Monica murmured even though she knew that he couldn’t hear her. Because as soon as she’d heard Phoenix’s voice, she’d turned and scanned the area. She’d talked to Peter just moments before, but he hadn’t been there.
“It would have been easy enough to duck outside, find a quiet place, and make a sixty-second call.” Kenton cocked his head. “Or did you think we hadn’t considered that possibility? You were there before he called, there after, but no one remembers seeing you exactly when the call came in.”
“This is bullshit!”
“So you’ve said.” One shoulder lifted. “Just give us an alibi. That’s all we need.”
“How about today?” Sam circled around the table and headed toward him. “Tell us where you were when Bob Kyle was killed.”
His lips pressed together.
“You went to the fire station.” Kenton gave him the reminder, not that Monica thought the guy actually needed one. “You left. Where’d you go?”
“Lora’s. You found me there. You know exactly where I was.”
“You’ve got some time unaccounted for there, Malone.”
Killing time?
Malone swallowed. “After I left the fire station, I went straight to Lora’s place.”
“Shit.” The curse came from the captain. “I’m getting him a union rep. We’re not doing this—”
“I’m not gonna stand by and let a friend die.” Malone’s chin was up again. “I went back to search her property, and I was there the whole damn time!”
“Then you’d better hope a neighbor saw you.” Kenton’s body was bow tight. “Because, Malone, it’s not looking good for you. Not good at all.”
“This is one hell of a mess.” Those were the first words Kenton spoke when he and Sam entered the viewing room.
“That’s my cop you’re trying to tear apart in there.” Captain Lawrence finally tried to defend Malone. Right. Too little, too late. “He’s cooperated and answered your questions—”
“And didn’t give me a single alibi,” Kenton snapped. He wasn’t in the mood for any of the captain’s bull. Not then. Not when he could still picture Bob Kyle’s charred remains. “Your detective is the picture of cooperation.” His eyes never left Monica’s face. “What did you see?”
“Not enough.” She exhaled and began to pace with quick, long strides. “He didn’t slip up, not once. He’s angry, but he’s still controlled.”
Yeah, that’s exactly what Kenton had thought. Malone was angry, but it didn’t seem to be the killing rage of a murderer. Instead, the guy just seemed pissed that he was being questioned. Malone had met his stare for most of the interview. There’d been no nervous gestures or slip-ups with his story.
“I’m sending men to Lora Spade’s neighborhood.” Lawrence gave a decisive nod, and it was the first decisive thing Kenton had seen the guy do since he’d f**ked up the media interview and spilled too much information. “They’ll find a witness. My man will be cleared.”