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The door opened and McKittrick strolled in like she had all the time in the world.
He really didn’t like her anymore.
“Joel Haley?” she asked, looking mildly interested—on the surface. But her eyes were more expressive than she probably realized. She was very interested. “The only Joel Haley I know is a prosecutor.”
“He’s the one.”
She regarded him levelly for a long moment. “Why Joel Haley?”
“Because he’s my best friend.”
Her eyes widened at that. “Really? Huh. Okay, then, I’ll get your phone. You should have mentioned him earlier.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. I was hoping you’d be reasonable and answer the one damn question I need you to answer.”
Her expression went cold once again. “And until I know your game, Dr.Reeves, I’m not telling you anything.”
He leaned back into the very uncomfortable chair, wishing he hadn’t called from that damn pay phone. That had been a rookie move. “Just let me call Joel.”
She left the room and he yawned, cracking his jaw and making his face hurt all over again. Dammit.
She returned a few minutes later with his phone in an evidence bag. After giving it to him, she watched him intensely as he tapped his security code onto his screen. He hunched over his phone as he typed in the numbers so no one could see the code—not Detective McKittrick, not anyone on the other side of the mirror, and not the damn camera on the wall with its blinking red light.
He dialed Joel, holding his breath that the man would answer. It was hit or miss with Joel, especially on the weekend. He worked his ass off during the week and played hard starting Friday night. Which meant hooking up with someone from his little black phone app.
“Yeah?” Joel answered groggily. “What’s wrong?”
Sam exhaled in relief. “Joel, I need your help. I’m in some trouble.”
Taking a chair across the table, McKittrick snorted inelegantly. Sam ignored her.
“What kind of trouble?” Joel asked with a yawn. “Can’t it wait until later?”
“No, it can’t. If it could, I would have waited until later. I’m at the police station downtown.”
“What?” Joel demanded, sounding more awake now. “Sorry,” he murmured, presumably to his bedmate. “Go back to sleep.”
There was the sound of rustling sheets and then that of a door closing. “Okay,” Joel said. “Talk to me, Sammy.”
“It’s a long story and I can’t tell anyone anything until the police answer a question for me.”
“Did you call an attorney?”
Sam winced. “I called Laura. She’s the only one I know.”
Joel barked out a harsh laugh. “You must be desperate. Don’t worry. I’ve got other contacts you can call. What do they think you did?”
That his best friend didn’t automatically assume he was guilty made Sam feel a little better.
Sam focused on McKittrick’s face when he answered Joel’s question. “I think they think that I murdered someone.”
McKittrick’s mouth firmed. Yeah, that was it. They think I killed someone.
Maybe I was too late. Maybe Colton already killed the lacrosse player.
“What the actual fuck?” Joel exploded. “Wait, what do you mean you can’t tell them until they answer a question? Can’t tell them what? What the hell’s going on, Sam?”
“I can’t tell you, either. I could lose my license.”
