That seemed to rouse him, though he still didn’t look up.

“Are you asleep?”

His head came up, and she saw a rage in his eyes that made her take a step back and reach for her Taser, which of course she didn’t have on her belt since she was inside the station house. Then his eyes cleared and he smiled grimly.

“Come to mock the condemned again?”

“Not here to mock,” she said lightly. “I have a question. And it’s very important that you answer me truthfully. Important for me, and for you.”

“Ask my lawyer.”

“Listen to me. Since I’m now breaking the law by continuing to talk to you, humor me.”

He shrugged. “What?”

“Did your wife wear a hairpiece or a wig? Extensions, anything like that?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re sure?”

“I sodding well am. She has the most gorgeous hair of any woman I’ve ever seen. Thick strawberry blond hair that is the envy of all her friends.”

“But if you two had been having problems, could there be any chance she—”

“No. There is no bloody chance in hell my wife suddenly shaved her head and started wearing a wig. Now, why are you asking me this ridiculous question? Hey, Graham—”

But Holly was already out of the holding cell, running full speed toward the elevators. Back on the second floor, she hurried to the conference room. Inside, the brass were in a meeting. Moreno, the chief, a couple of other detectives.

She knocked, and opened the door. Heads turned.

“He didn’t do it.”

Everyone froze, then Moreno said, “For heaven’s sake, Graham. Go home. Get some sleep. We’re in a meeting here.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir. But Montclair didn’t do it. I know he didn’t.”

Moreno narrowed his eyes at her. “Why, pray tell, would you want to rock the boat right now, Graham? You’re being promoted to detective. You’ve done exemplary work on this case. It’s a slam dunk. Even Robinson knows we’ve got Montclair dead to rights. He’s already been talking to the DA about a plea.”

“Sir, I’m willing to bet my career on this. Please.”

That got his attention. He glanced at the chief, then back to Holly, a hairy brow raised. “Talk.”

“The body we recovered? It isn’t Sutton Montclair.”

Sutton

SUTTON

“Life is full of confusion. Confusion of love, passion, and romance. Confusion of family and friends. Confusion with life itself. What path we take, what turns we make. How we roll our dice.”

—Matthew Underwood

Memento Mori

MEMENTO MORI

I asked so little from this life. A husband. A family. Friends. Love, to give and receive. That’s all.

And I got them. Oh, did I get them.

So when I fled my perfectly horrible life, I wanted even less.