Reasonable Doubt. Tracey V. Bateman

trouble with you?” Mac squinted, his eyes demanding the truth.

      “I don’t think so.”

      Keri’s dad nodded, but his expression remained stoic. “Does this ‘need to get away’ have anything to do with your wife’s death? Raven works for a TV station in Kansas City. She called us when it first happened.”

      “Yes. I found her…in our house.”

      He arched a wooly gray eyebrow. “You guilty?”

      “No, sir.”

      He would have liked to explain. To make Mr. Mahoney believe that he was still the same boy he’d treated as his own son all those years ago. That he wasn’t capable of such a crime. But voices carried back into the room, signaling Keri and the boys’ return.

      Mac gave him another studied look. “We’ll talk about it later.” He headed for the kitchen without waiting for Justin’s response. “Follow me, boys. I got sidetracked catching up with your dad, so you can help me grab the ingredients out of the cabinets.”

      The boys followed, their quick easy steps indicative of their relief to be in a lighter atmosphere. Guilt shrouded Justin, and for the first time he found himself second-guessing his decision to leave town. Innocent men were found innocent in most cases. What would happen if a warrant had already been issued for his arrest and Keri Mahoney of all people had to take him in? A throat clearing caught his attention, and he jerked his gaze from the kitchen door to Keri.

      She motioned for him to take a seat on the rustic, woodsy-printed couch.

      “Thanks.” He walked into the sitting area and dropped into cushions, running his hand over the stubble covering his jaw.

      Keri shed her jacket and tossed it across the arm of the chair next to the fireplace. Silence loomed, a thick black cloud of tension, as she wordlessly grabbed the poker and pushed at the glowing logs. Justin watched the sparks shoot up the chimney. She tossed another log into place, situated it just right, then replaced the poker on the stand. She turned to face him.

      As their eyes met, memories rushed back to him on a wave of yesterday’s dreams. This was the girl he’d loved for the first fourteen years of his life. The one he very well might have married if things hadn’t gotten so fouled up.

      The way she stared at him, he could imagine she was having similar thoughts. She cleared her throat. “So…”

      “Listen. I don’t expect to talk about the good old days.” Justin gave her a lopsided grin.

      “Good. It’s probably better for us both to keep our past friendship out of this whole situation.” With a heavy sigh, she plopped into the chair next to the fire and kicked her legs up to the ottoman.

      “I didn’t do it.” Suddenly, it became very important that Keri believe him. And whether they discussed the past or not, it was there…simmering on the edge of both of their minds. If she remembered him at all, she just couldn’t believe that he’d take a life.

      “Look, Justin. It’s not my job to determine whether you’re guilty or not. It’s my job to take you in if a warrant has been issued. If your boys weren’t with you, I’d handcuff you to something to make sure you don’t run. I’m trusting your integrity to keep you here.”

      “I already told you. I’ll let you arrest me if you have to.”

      A spark of the Keri he remembered returned in the stubborn jerk of her chin. She leveled a stern gaze at him. “I don’t need you to let me take you anywhere. I’m a trained officer of the law and if I say you’re going in, you are.”

      Justin’s eyes flickered over her petite frame and he couldn’t resist the grin tipping the corners of his lips.

      Anger sparked Keri’s eyes. She shot to her feet and leaned over him, filling the air between them with the combined scents of peach-scented soap and wood smoke. “Listen, Kramer, don’t test me. I don’t want to cuff you unless it’s absolutely necessary, but I will if you force my hand.”

      He could see she was dead serious, and it only struck him funnier. Laughter started low in his throat and, try as he might, there was no stopping it.

      Red splotches appeared on her neck and freckled face, and sparks shot from her green eyes. “Stop laughing!”

      “I’m sorry,” he said, fighting for air. “You’re just…so cute.”

      “That does it.”

      Before Justin could contain his mirth and take charge of the situation, Keri sprang into action, twisted his arm to the side and slapped the cuffs on one wrist. In practically one motion, he found himself with one hand cuffed to the wooden arm of the couch. Keri stood over him, breathing heavily, but smug with victory. Her hands rested on her slim hips, and she raised her brows, her green eyes daring him to laugh now.

      Anger bit into him like a vice. “All right,” he ground out, “you’ve made your point. Let me go.”

      Her shoulders rose and fell with an exaggerated sigh. “You know what? I’ve been up for more than twenty-four hours. I went to work early yesterday because a drunk wrapped his truck around a telephone pole and nearly killed a group of kids. I sat listening to that same drunk whine about his rights all night while I tried to get paperwork done.” She stretched, then covered a wide yawn. “Then just when I was about to head out and start a much-needed vacation, I find you on Krahoney Road—suspiciously, I might add. So I think I’m within my rights to handcuff you until I know if you’re running from an arrest warrant.”

      “Well, I’m sorry to add to your stress,” he drawled, “but I’m the one they’re accusing of murder.” He scowled. “Wrongfully!”

      “Maybe. Maybe not.”

      “Let me go, Keri. I don’t want the boys to see me like this.”

      “You know my dad will make dozens and dozens of donuts and donut holes. Your boys will be glazing for hours.” Keri grabbed a crocheted afghan from the chair and tossed it over his arm, concealing the metal constraints. “Perfect. I’m going to go and shower, then I’ll probably take a nice long nap. If you behave yourself, I might release you when I get back.” She threw him a victorious grin and sauntered away, leaving him scowling after her.

      “You know, you’re stomping all over my civil rights! I could sue you!”

      “Go ahead,” she called over her shoulder. “The line forms behind Junior Connor.”

      Whatever that meant. Defeated, he twisted around and swung his legs over the side of the couch. It felt good to stretch out after several tension-filled hours in the car. He adjusted the afghan so that it covered his arm and shoulder, then spread it over the rest of him. Relaxing in the toasty warmth of a wood fire, Justin closed his eyes. He felt his chest rising and falling in slow even breaths just before he drifted away into the precious comfort of sleep.

      Keri leaned into the shower’s spray, resting her hands flat against the tiled wall. She winced. Partly from the blast of hot water and partly from the memory of her encounter with Justin. She’d taken him completely by surprise, but what if he’d been ready for her? Would she have been able to take him?

      The thought frustrated her and filled her with self-doubt. What kind of chief of police would she make if she couldn’t even arrest a prisoner just because he had ten inches on her and a good fifty pounds?

      And blue eyes to die for.

      Still…despite the same charming grin and sincere eyes, she didn’t really know him anymore. He might be anything. Even…well…a murderer.

      The problem was that her heart didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to believe that the devastatingly good-looking man of her dreams, who seemed to be a wonderful father to boot, was everything she remembered. And more. The dismal reality was that he could quite possibly be a sociopath who’d murdered his wife, felt no remorse, and could probably pass ten lie-detector tests, all the while