Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 by Karen Whiddon (interesting books to read for teens TXT) 📕

A pair of cameras placed above the doors monitored their every movement. The front door clicked, the lock disengaging, as Julia and Luis approached.

The front door led to small holding cell. An African American woman with her hair pulled into a tight bun sat in a control room behind a thick sheet of glass. She wore the gray-and-black uniform of all NWCF officers and stood as Julia approached.

“I’m Emily,” she said with a small smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Sheriff McCloud.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Emily,” she said. “This is Luis Martinez. He’s consulting on the case.”

Luis asked, “Is Darcy Owens available to be questioned?”

A metal door that led out of a holding area clicked. “There’s a conference room around the corner. It’s where most of the inmates meet with their lawyers and such. If that works for you, I’ll have her brought from her cell.”

They entered a corridor that was filled with the scents of grease and pine cleanser. A door to the left was open. It was the conference room.

A metal table was bolted to the floor and was surrounded by four chairs, two on each side. A loop was bolted into the table so handcuffs could be tethered to the surface.

Julia settled into one of the metal-backed chairs. The rungs imprinted on her skin and she leaned forward, not entirely sure how to get comfortable. Then again, this room wasn’t meant for comfort—only function.

The door opened and Darcy Owens shuffled through. Bile rose in the back of Julia’s throat. It’d been months since she’d seen the other woman, yet the change was remarkable. The last time, it had been in that bunker, hidden deep in the woods. Darcy had been wounded and ill. At the time, she wore filthy clothes and her pallor was gray. Now, she was clean. Clad in an orange jumpsuit and shower shoes, her hair was long and dark, with blond roots showing.

The differences were so remarkable that Julia could almost believe she had seen two separate women.

Darcy’s hands were cuffed. A chain ran through the handcuffs to a bellyband around her waist. Her feet were also shackled and tethered to the thick, leather belt at her middle. In short, the killer wasn’t going anywhere.

Clattering with each step, she approached the table and sat in a vacant chair.

Emily cuffed Darcy’s arm chain to the metal loop, then gave the chain a hard tug. “Let me know if you need anything, Sheriff,” she said before retreating from the room and closing the door.

Darcy lifted her eyes. Julia’s stomach roiled as their gazes met.

“Sheriff?” she asked. “I thought you worked with Rocky Mountain Justice.”

“So you remember me?” Julia asked.

“Sure, you were at the Pleasant Pines Inn after the cook’s suicide.”

“I was also in the bunker in the middle of the woods.” Julia placed her injured hand on the table.

Darcy lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I don’t remember much from the woods.”

“Do you remember killing my predecessor, Carl Haak? Or attacking me with an ax?”

“I think you’re mistaken,” said Darcy. Her voice was cold and flat.

Julia’s pulse raced and her temper flared. She drew in a breath, but it did little to calm her nerves or rage.

Luis spoke up. “We’re here to talk to you about another case.”

“My attorney said someone else died. What happened?”

“A body was found at the park in Pleasant Pines.”

Darcy blinked. “When?”

“Sunday morning,” said Julia. “We just got the toxicology report. The victim had excessive amounts of alcohol in his system, and the same anti-nausea medication you used to give your victims.”

“You can’t be charging me,” said Darcy. “I’ve been in jail for months. I’m not your killer—not that I’m admitting to killing anyone now.”

“Half of a two-dollar bill was found with the victim, as well,” said Luis. “Who else, besides you, would know that you left one of those with each of your victims?”

“They left a ripped two-dollar bill?” Darcy repeated. “Interesting.”

“Who else knew about the torn money?” Julia had her own guess. “Robert Carpenter?”

“Don’t bring him into this.” The chains around Darcy’s wrists rattled. “He’s nobody.”

“It doesn’t sound like he’s nobody to me.” Luis leaned forward.

“We’ve been in your home,” Julia continued, raising her voice to be heard over the clanking of chains. “We’ve seen your diary. We know Robert used to protect you, Darcy. Is he still protecting you?”

Darcy’s expression grew taut with rage. Obviously, the idea that Julia or anyone else knew about her past—and her darkest secrets—unnerved her. She refused to answer.

Julia leaned toward her. “Come on, Darcy. You can tell me the truth. Did he know about the money?”

Darcy clasped her hands together to stop the trembling. Then, like a curtain being pulled closed, her expression went blank. “What money? I don’t know anything about any money. And I especially don’t know anyone who’d know that fact, even if I did.” Darcy smirked.

The smile was a challenge and it told Julia everything she needed to know. Darcy knew the identity of Tom Dolan’s killer. And she would never talk.

Yet, why would she have agreed to speak to Julia and Luis if she had nothing to say?

“What’s the matter, Sheriff?” Darcy asked. “You don’t look fine. In fact, you look like crap. Do you need a doctor? I can help with that.”

You don’t look fine.

The walls of the conference room seemed to close in. Julia’s face and feet went numb. She needed to get out of the room...to escape. If not, she’d retch on the floor. Moving to the door, she beat on the metal with the side of her fist. Sweat trickled down her brow, leaving her hair damp.

“Julia? You okay?” Luis was on his feet.

The door opened and Emily waited on the other side.

Pushing out of the room, she stalked down the short hallway to the control room. Another NWCF officer—this one a middle-aged man with a graying beard—sat inside the office.

“Everything okay, Sheriff?” he asked.

“Just open the damn door,” she said.

He did as he was ordered