Hearts On The Line. Margaret Daley

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      Standing behind Sam, Becca studied Ritchie Stark as he sat at the table in an interview room, his dark hair slicked back, his beard cropped close. Thin to the point of almost looking like a scarecrow, he tapped his fingers against the wooden top, his eyes downcast.

      “We’ve got you, Ritchie. You disposed of the weapon used to kill O’Brien.” Sam leaned across the table, his eyes pinpoints.

      “I found it! I ain’t the violent type, so I thought I should throw it away. Didn’t want no kid gettin’ hold of it.” Stark lifted his pointy chin, the tapping of his fingers increasing.

      “Yeah, sure,” Becca said with a humorless laugh. “Your fingerprint was found on one of the bullets still in the gun. Who hired you to kill Neil O’Brien?” She came around her partner to take the chair at the end, close to Stark.

      “I ain’t talking. I wanna see a lawyer.”

      “If you cooperate, I can convince the D.A. to go easy on you.” Sam pushed to his feet. “If you don’t—” he shrugged “—murdering a prominent city employee won’t sit well with a judge or jury.”

      Tap. Tap. Tap. “I knows my rights. I wanna talk to my lawyer!”

      Becca rose, too. “Sure, Ritchie. If you want to play it out that way, life in prison with no parole is fitting for you. I personally don’t think we should go easy on you.” She started for the door, glad to get away from Stark’s annoying drumming of his fingers on the table, a sure sign the man was lying. “You deserve to rot in prison.”

      While Sam stayed back, Becca left the room and watched through the two-way mirror at her partner and Stark, looking for any signs of the skinny man’s armor cracking. Other than his nervous drumming, he remained tightlipped.

      “I have pull with the D.A. I still can put in a good word if you cooperate. You aren’t the one we want. We want the person behind everything,” Sam said in parting.

      Stark glared at the door that Sam had left through, his thin face pinched into a scowl.

      “We’ll let him stew for a while. Take our time getting him his lawyer.” Sam moved to stand beside Becca.

      “I know we cleared Colleen Montgomery of O’Brien’s murder, but now there’s no doubt she’s innocent with this new proof.” Becca thought of Quinn and his deep commitment to his family. She’d have to tell him the good news when she saw him next.

      “Now all we have to find out is who was behind the murder and why?”

      “Do you think there’s a connection between Neil O’Brien, Baltasar Escalante and Dahlia Sainsbury?” Becca asked, her mind spinning with all the incidents that had occurred over the past few months in Colorado Springs, all wrapped up in the Vance and Montgomery families, who had been instrumental in Escalante’s downfall the year before. But what kind of connection would there be between a fire chief and a drug lord?

      After the incident in the tunnels below the museum the week before, she and Sam had learned from Alessandro Donato that Baltasar Escalante had been behind the drugs coming into the city recently, that he’d survived the plane crash last year and had a new face. When she thought of the drug lord, who was also a cold-blooded killer, being alive, she grew chilled. There was no love lost between him and the Montgomery and Vance families.

      Again she pictured Quinn Montgomery with his russet hair, chocolate brown eyes and cocky smile that could melt a woman’s heart. He could take care of himself, she was sure, but worry over his safety took hold and she couldn’t shake off her concern. Someone had tried to burn his business down and had nearly succeeded, leaving only his offices intact. What if he had been in the shop or barn when it had been set on fire? The very thought sent another chill through her.