“Denton Steele was a witness as well.” She sighed. “I’d like to get his witness testimony.”

Her words came back to me from the interrogation room. I had thought it was a manipulation to get me to talk, but maybe not. As her gaze lingered on the movie star, she pressed her hand against the side of her head, making sure her hair was in place.

I grunted. A smart-ass comment was on the tip of my tongue, but I caught Bryce’s look. His eyebrows shot up and the message was received. He had caught the look too and he was right, I swallowed my comment.

Her eyes narrowed, then when I kept my mouth shut, she said, “We’re not here for a fight, but we are here for some extra measures.”

“Extra measures?” My dad materialized from behind me. As he moved in front of me, he held Beth’s hand in his behind his back. She paused next to me and glanced sideways at me. My dad cleared his throat. “What are you talking about?”

Officer Molls shifted so she was facing my dad squarely. “Your daughter was supposed to notify of us of her whereabouts.”

“She did.” My dad amended, “My lawyers did when they posted her bail, and we notified you about why we moved to this home.”

“Yeah. They did.” The female detective shifted so she could see me around him. “But Sheldon’s not a normal suspect. She’s out, but pending house arrest.”

“This is ridiculous. She’s not been found guilty ye—” Neil bit back what he’d been about to say.

Yet.

She’s not been found guilty yet. That’s what he’d been about to say. At that understanding, I moved back a step. My dad thought I was guilty. I crossed my arms over my chest. That meant he thought I had done it—I had killed Grace.

My throat burned.

My own father didn’t believe in me.

Bryce stepped close to me. He didn’t reach out and touch me, but the back of my elbow rested against his chest. It was his way of being there for me and I closed my eyes, feeling him move in even more. I drew in his strength.

Corrigan came to my other side. They were both flanking me, showing their support for me, then we heard Denton speak. All three of us looked at the same time.

Denton said, “What do you mean ‘pending house arrest,’ officer?” He moved closer, cutting off my dad as he’d been about to speak again, and as I watched him, Denton transformed into his movie star persona. His eyes squinted slightly, becoming darker and beckoning. His head lifted so it was at a seductive slant, and the corners of his mouth curved up in an alluring grin.

In that one second, he had gone from my childhood neighbor to the guy who graced billboards all across the nation.

And it worked.

Detective Molls’ chest rose and held still. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Then her cheeks reddened and her hand lifted back up to flatten her hair against her head. It stayed there, as if holding the side of her head and she seemed paralyzed, gazing into Denton’s eyes for a moment.

“Molls,” her partner rasped out. He snapped his fingers, drawing his partner’s attention back to the room.

“What?” She jerked backward, breaking her gaze from Denton to look around the group. Her voice was hoarse. “Huh?”

Denton’s grin grew, becoming even more mesmerizing.

Her gaze skirted back to him and she swallowed. “Um.” Her hand fell back to her side, flattening over her badge.

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if that was a nervous tick. She touched her badge when she was nervous? No. She was still looking at Denton, like she couldn’t turn away. She was off-balance. She was star struck; that’s what she was. He had stripped away her control.

“Get ahold of yourself, Molls.” Her partner moved so he was standing in front of her, addressing the group. The same no-nonsense attitude he had at the police station was with him again. His eyes snapped to mine and he narrowed them, lifting a package that he’d been holding in his hand. “You get an ankle monitor, Princess.”

I started to surge forward. To be honest, I wasn’t sure which pissed me off first. The babysitting bracelet or the fact he called me Princess. I snarled. I’d show him a princess, and my hand formed into a fist, lifting to swing.

“Oh whoa.” Bryce grabbed me by the hip and pulled me backward.

“Shit.” Corrigan saw it, too.

Both of them came together in front of me, like two ends of a curtain closing in one brisk movement.

“What?”

Bryce spoke loudly, “How does that work?”

“This?”

“The ankle monitor, yes.” Bryce’s elbow nudged Corrigan.

“Yeah,” Corrigan added. “Like does she only have so many feet to go or what? You said she’s under house arrest. Is that legal? She’s not been convicted. Isn’t that when that punishment happens?”

The male detective’s voice was strained, tense. “Not that I have to explain the actions of our judicial system, but she’s not technically under house arrest. She will,” his voice grew clearer, and I could tell he was moving toward me, “need to wear this so we know where she is at all times.”

Bryce and Corrigan held firm.

The guy stopped right in front of them, then he said in a low warning, “Move aside, gentlemen.”

“It’s fine, you guys.” I touched both of them on the back. They moved aside, but only after another moment of standing guard for me.

As they did, the male detective raked a hard eye over me before he knelt at my feet. I lifted my pant leg, and he put the ankle monitor on me. Just like that, no big fuss, and I was tagged like an animal. I glanced down, lifting my ankle so I could see it better.

I was a walking GPS alert now. This was awesome. I groaned. “Can I shower with this thing?”

“Nope.” He hoisted himself back up. There was no sympathy on his face at all. “Stick the leg out and wrap it with a bag if you don’t want to get electrocuted or have the police department at your house. There are no alerts set if you wander out of the house. You can go about as much as you want, which I doubt is much since everyone and their long-lost aunt knows you’re The Queen Bee Killer, but whatever rocks your boat. Just know we can always find you now.” He smiled a very nice fuck-off sort of smile, and he winked. “Have a good day, now.”

Sliding past Bryce and Corrigan, he gave them both a once-over, then looked to Denton. He was thinking something. I could see it on his face, but all he did was grunt and shake his head. Then he murmured, back at the door, “Come on, Molls. I’ve got a handkerchief in the car for your drool.”