What I've Done (Morgan Dane #4)(77)

Kieran stroked the dog’s back. Like the dog, his focus was locked on Lance. “It seems that Luther doesn’t like you. I can’t imagine why.”

“Me either.” Lance’s tone was bland.

Morgan wiped a palm on her thigh. How fast could that dog get across the office? Too fast.

Next to her, Lance’s hand flexed next to his weapon.

Kieran sneered. “You would shoot such a magnificent creature?”

“Who said I would shoot the dog?” Lance reached behind him and pulled the door closed. But they didn’t move any closer to Kieran and Luther. “Now let’s get down to business. We know you were out all night Friday.”

Kieran scratched under his dog’s chin, but Luther was fixated on Lance. “I wasn’t watching the clock.”

“You left Beats at ten thirty and arrived home at four o’clock the following morning,” Lance pressed. “Where were you during all that time?”

“I told you I went for a long drive.”

“For nearly six hours?” Lance asked.

“What are you suggesting?” Kieran’s voice dropped an octave.

Lance took a step closer. “That you followed Haley and Noah to his house.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Kieran stood.

Luther growled. The two men stared at each other for a few seconds. As two alpha males, neither would back down.

Sensing a stalemate, Morgan butted in. “Mr. Hart, we’re not suggesting anything. But given your recent breakup with Haley, it would certainly ease our minds if you could verify your location at some point during the night.”

Kieran’s gaze shifted to her, his expression only slightly less aggressive. “I don’t have to give you an alibi. You aren’t the police. I don’t even have to speak to you.”

“This is true.” Morgan lifted her hands, palms out, surrendering. “We’ll be happy to pass our information along to the sheriff. Then you can speak directly with him.” She turned toward the door, taking Lance’s arm and spinning him around. Being charged with harassment would only hinder their investigation. Better to leave and try to get information from other sources.

“Wait,” Kieran called.

Morgan pivoted.

Kieran’s lip curled and his face pinched, as if cooperating with them was the equivalent of wading through raw sewage. He opened the center drawer of his desk and took out a slip of paper. He held it across the desk. “I found this in the console of my car after we spoke last time. It’s a copy of a gas receipt. I was in Syracuse at one a.m.”

Morgan reached for the receipt. The dog’s growl grew louder. Sweat dripped between her shoulder blades, and her shirt stuck to her back as she read the slip of paper. The receipt was time-stamped 1:17 a.m.

“I had nothing to do with that man’s death.” Kieran sat back in his leather chair. “I trust you’re satisfied?”

“Thank you for sharing the receipt,” Morgan said.

Kieran’s nod was curt. “We’re done here. I’ve been more than cooperative. I am not answering any more of your questions.”

Morgan took a step backward toward the door. The dog’s gaze shifted to her. Kieran’s eyes were cold, and there was a darkness in them that made her believe that deep down, he wanted to set the dog on them. She knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t stupid. But he wanted to.

Lance moved sideways, angling his body between her and the dog.

“Oh, and Ms. Dane?” Kieran’s lip curled. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll put my attorney on notice in case the sheriff comes calling.”

“Do you think you’re going to need him?” His arrogance grated on Morgan. “Is that the same attorney who convinced the Connecticut authorities to drop the stalking charges?”

“It is.” Kieran smirked, then his expression darkened further. “Now please get out of my office. If you wish to speak with me again, you can contact my lawyer.”

“I’ll speak with your attorney anytime,” Morgan said. She wasn’t afraid of Kieran or his lawyer. The dog was another issue all together. Anyone with a brain would be wary of a huge, angry canine.

Kieran said nothing as Morgan and Lance backed out of the room. Lance shut the door behind them. He detoured to the blonde receptionist’s desk on the way out of the office. “Mr. Hart has one big dog. Does he bring it to the office often?”

“Yes.” The blonde’s forehead furrowed. “All the time.” She glanced back at her boss’s door, the set of her lips and curl of her shoulders implying she was not a fan of Luther.

Morgan led the way back to the elevator. Relief swept over her as the heavy steel doors closed. “I love dogs, but I’ll pass on petting that one.”

“Me too.” Lance wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What do you think of Kieran’s alibi?”

“Syracuse is roughly two and a half hours from here.” Morgan buttoned her coat. “The receipt was time-stamped just after one a.m. His neighbor’s surveillance camera caught him arriving home at four a.m. That wouldn’t leave him much time to kill Noah.”

The elevator doors opened, and Lance followed Morgan through the lobby and outside. They crossed the parking lot and climbed into the car. “Assuming Kieran can’t be the killer because he was driving all over New York State while Noah was being stabbed, where does that leave us?”