Allan stared glumly at the others.

“Are you going to tell her, or am I?” Eban asked quietly.

“You?” Allan said hopefully.

Eban grinned at the other guy. “It was your work, your attention to detail.”

“I’d rather grapple with an injured grizzly bear than tell Torgerson and the boss we have the wrong person.”

Eban understood, but he wanted to step back from anything to do with evidence. Perception was everything when it came to the law. He wouldn’t risk tainting it, especially evidence that should free Darby. “It’ll look good on your record when you apply for your detective’s shield.”

Allan let out a huff. “They only need so many detectives in Fairbanks and we already have three.”

“You don’t have to stay in Fairbanks forever, do you? You could apply to join the FBI.” Eban wasn’t sucking up to the guy. Officer Robertson was a good cop. Observant and motivated. Eban had been a State Trooper when he’d applied to the Bureau. “I’ll put in a good word for you with the recruitment office if that’s what you want.”

Allan’s eyes lit up. “You’d do that?”

“Definitely.” Eban nodded. The Bureau needed more good agents like this man who examined the evidence rather than looked for clues to support his case. “But first you have to endure the wrath of your colleagues when you burn down their case.”

Allan whispered a curse then straightened to his impressive height. “We need to figure out who murdered that young man.”

“Yeah, we do,” Eban agreed. “And why they set up an innocent woman to take the fall.”

He watched Allan walk over to his colleagues and saw him pointing out the inconsistencies with the print. The people there all practiced holding imaginary knives and stabbing imaginary victims, and their expressions all started to mirror Robertson’s. Eban watched Torgerson remain unconvinced as she argued with her boss, but the man looked shaken. It was purely a matter of time until Darby was released. He knew it. She knew it.

Eban glanced at his watch and headed outside to his rental. The release paperwork was going to take time. The detective was going to fight tooth and nail to keep Darby incarcerated.

Soon he’d call Quentin, who would talk to Haley, who would call the shark from Anchorage, who at this moment was striding across the parking lot to his shiny black Lexus with a somber expression on his face.

Eban planned to keep a low profile so he could help figure this out. Who had framed Darby for murder? And why? First, he needed an hour or two so he could make necessary preparations. He needed to know Darby was safe—and where safer than in the local jail? She’d be released later tonight. That attorney better make damn sure of it.

Eban drove across town. He couldn’t think about the fact she’d been unconscious at a killer’s mercy and was lucky to be alive. Not yet anyway. Not until he had her safely in his care. The killer wouldn’t know the cops were going to release her and Eban planned to make it as difficult as possible for that person to figure out where she was staying afterwards.