Page 34 of His Forbidden Alliance

The detective glared at me, but I ignored him and surveyed the scene. Firefighters were spraying my car with a hose while more police officers corralled neighbors and told them to go back inside. None of them seemed inclined to listen. I’d want to watch, too, if it weren’t my car.

“Your neighbor called this in. They said you went back inside the house after it happened. Why didn’t you call 911?”

“I was in shock. I burned my hand.”

Robichaux glanced down and frowned. “How did that happen?”

I might as well tell the truth since it would be on video from some neighbor’s camera and probably some asshole’s phone. “I tried to get something out of the car.”

“After it exploded?”

“Yes.”

Robichaux huffed. “You’re lucky all you got is a burned hand.”

He was exactly as sympathetic as I expected him to be. I had no doubt he knew exactly who I was and hoped he’d be able to pin something on me tonight.

“You should have one of the paramedics look at that when we’re done here.” Not before he interrogated me, obviously, only after.

“I’ll be fine. Go ahead with whatever questions you have for me.”

“Who would want to plant a bomb in your car?”

At least he was getting right to the point. “I have no idea. Are you sure it was a bomb, not just a mechanical failure?”

He raised his brows. “Seriously?”

I shrugged. “I’m no mechanic. How should I know? Obviously, cars don’t usually explode spontaneously, but I assumed it was possible. I don’t know why anybody would want to blow my car up.”

“You don’t? You can’t imagine a single reason?”

I held his gaze, keeping my expression neutral. “No, I don’t.”

Robichaux sighed. “We can do this here and you can cooperate, or we can go down to the station.”

“I’m the victim here. Somebody blew up my car and ruined my motorcycle. And look at the damage to my house and my yard. I’m not the person you need to take to the station.”

“Then who is?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

He scowled at me. “If you actually wanted to find whoever did this, you would answer my questions.”

“I’ve answered all of them.”

I forced myself not to smile when Remington pulled up in front of my house. The police might not think anything of being assholes to me, but Robichaux’s attitude was going to change when Remington confronted him. I watched my cousin step out of one of the family’s black SUVs. He wouldn’t dare get his beloved Ferrari near a fire.

He greeted one of the firefighters, shaking hands and clapping him on the back. Then he checked in with the paramedics, probably wanting to be sure no one had been injured. Finally, he started walking toward us. Another detective rushed over when he saw Remington.

“Gentlemen.” Remington held out his hand to Robichaux, then the other man who’d joined us. “I’m Remington Theriot. This is my cousin.” He glanced toward me. “What can I do to help you?”

“I know who you are,” Robichaux said.

Remington smiled. “Ah. My reputation precedes me.”

Robichaux huffed. “Yeah. Right.”

Remington narrowed his eyes, and the asshole took a step back. He might have all kinds of thoughts about my cousin, but he was going to learn quickly not to voice them to Remington’s face.