The Detective And The D.A.. Leann Harris

not kept up with Ash’s career.

      Suddenly two sedans pulled into the parking lot. From one car emerged a well-muscled man in his early forties with a steely-eyed gaze. A woman got out of the second car. Tall, shapely and very pretty, the woman’s blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Was this Ash’s partner? A stab of jealously knifed through Kelly.

      The captain over Homicide nodded at them. “Ms. Whalen.”

      “Captain Jenkins.”

      “Ash, what do we have here?” Captain Jenkins asked. He wore a want-to-chew-nails expression.

      “Kelly and I wanted to talk to Carlson. When he didn’t answer the door, a neighbor—” he glanced at Kelly to see if she would point out their witness was a little girl, but she remained quiet “—assured us that he was there, that she’d seen Carlson and another man enter the apartment, then heard them argue. The other man left. I felt the circumstances warranted entrance. We found Carlson dead on the floor of his bedroom.”

      His expression hard, Captain Jenkins turned to Kelly. “Detective Ashcroft had your opinion on the exigent circumstances?” The good captain wanted the department’s rear covered.

      “He did and the circumstances were urgent.”

      Captain Jenkins nodded. “Show me where you found the body.”

      Ash, Captain Jenkins and the woman turned and started back toward the building. Ash paused. “Kelly, are you coming?”

      She wanted to go, to make sure everything was seen to, but she wouldn’t appreciate the cops trying to tell her how to try a case. “What’s happening is your job. I’m going home. I’ll let the D.A. know about Carlson.”

      A gleam of admiration flickered in his eyes, then he nodded and turned. As she watched him go, Kelly knew things were going to get ugly if they continued the investigation into Catherine Reed’s murder. Everyone would expect the inquiry to stop with Carlson’s death, but neither she nor Ash wanted to let it go. It wasn’t finished. The case had just taken an unexpected turn.

      Ash didn’t understand why he was here, parked in front of Kelly’s house—their home pre-divorce.

      His skin prickled as the air of familiarity washed over him and a thousand memories assaulted him. What the hell was he doing here?

      He came to fill Kelly in on what he’d discovered from the neighbors, he told himself. Share with her what the lab techs thought about Carlson’s death, and nothing else.

      Liar, a voice in his head whispered. You could’ve done all that with a call tomorrow morning.

      He didn’t have an argument against that truth. Instead, he walked to the front door. The color had changed. It was no longer a mud-ugly brown. Now a soft peach graced the wood.

      He knocked and heard steps in the entranceway, then the door opened. Kelly stood there in a robe of some soft material that clung faithfully to every curve. He cursed under his breath.

      You’re batting a thousand, Ashcroft.

      “Ash, what are you doing here?” She held a cup of coffee.

      “I thought I’d fill you in on what we discovered.” It sounded lame to his ears.

      Her level of interest intensified. “Did you turn up something significant?”

      “No.” He felt as if he was six years old and had stumbled in front of the entire school at the Christmas pageant. “It seems no one saw anything, but that didn’t sit right with me or my partner, Julie.”

      “Julie?”

      “You goin’ to make me stand outside for this entire conversation? I doubt the neighbors want to hear about the Carlson murder.” He glanced around at the other homes.

      “You’re wrong, Ash,” she grumbled. “Everyone wants to hear about it, from my boss to Mrs. Schattle.” The elderly woman was the neighborhood’s busybody.

      Apparently things had already gotten sticky. “So you want Mrs. Schattle involved?” he asked.

      Her cheeks reddened. She stepped back and motioned him inside.

      Ash glanced around as he walked into the living room. She’d replaced most of the hand-me-downs they’d been given. New sofa and chairs.

      “You mentioned Julie. I assume that was the woman who arrived at the crime scene with Captain Jenkins.”

      Julie had laid into him for his lack of manners in not introducing his partner to his ex. He’d argued there hadn’t been time, but his conscience hadn’t bought that excuse. When Julie left the crime scene, he told her he would introduce her to Kelly at their next meeting. Julie had laughed and told him she was over the slight. She assured him that she wouldn’t introduce him to her former boyfriend and to forget it.

      “Yes, it was,” he answered.

      “What did she think about the crime scene? She think it was a suicide or murder?”

      “She agrees with our conclusion.”

      “It’s nice to know you and I aren’t that far off the mark.”

      He leaned against the wall inside the door. “Both of us had the feeling that our little witness wasn’t the only one who overheard this exchange between Carlson and the other man, but no one is talking. I think we might have better luck in a couple of days when the entire building isn’t crawling with cops. Julie is good at putting witnesses at ease and getting them to talk.”

      Kelly held the cup close to her chest. His gaze locked onto her chest. “You want a cup of coffee?”

      He thanked heaven she misinterpreted his gaze. “Sounds good.”

      He followed her into the kitchen. Kelly poured him a cup, then opened the refrigerator door for an exotic-favored coffee creamer. “Want some?”

      He frowned and stepped closer, grabbing the cup. “No.”

      She shrugged and poured a little more into her cup.

      He didn’t remember her liking her coffee smothered in cream. It emphasized that time had moved on and they were both different people. “Why even drink coffee if you put that much funny milk into it?”

      She glared at him. “Because I’m an A.D.A. and not a cop. And I need the caffeine to stay awake. I’ve got work.” She took a sip and sighed. “What did the lab guys say?”

      “They were going to run tests on Carlson’s hand and temple to see if there was any gunpowder residue. But they agreed with us that it didn’t look like a self-inflected wound. The body position looked staged.”

      He took a sip of the dark roast. “You mentioned you heard from your boss. What did he say?”

      She shook her head. “When I got home, I found a message on my machine from Jake. It appears he saw the news flash earlier in the evening. He wanted an explanation for what we were doing at Carlson’s apartment.”

      From her expression, Ash guessed that Jake Thorpe might have done more than politely ask for an explanation. “What’d did he say?”

      She hesitated.

      “You might as well tell me it all. We’re in this together, and I’m sure I’ll get mine tomorrow.”

      “You mean your boss didn’t nail you tonight?”

      “He wasn’t happy that it was me who found the body.” Damn fool had been Jenkins’s exact comment, but Kelly didn’t need to know that.

      From her expression, she knew he had gotten grief but didn’t press the issue. “I think Jake talked to your boss, because I got the same reaction. He wanted a report from the scene. He didn’t want any more trouble with this case than we’ve already had. Apparently, the news flash on the local stations reached a lot of people. Carlson’s lawyer called, upset. And