“Can we talk somewhere else?”

“I’ve staked out the conference room.” He motioned behind him.

Without responding, she walked past him and entered the room.

He followed her in and shut the door.

“I can’t tell you anything more than Steve already has.” She clutched her purse to her chest. “This is a waste of time for both of us.”

“That’s possible—but I can spare a few minutes, and a brief chat shouldn’t eat into your day too much.” His posture was open and affable as he motioned toward the table.

Short of being rude—and further raising his suspicions—what choice did she have?

Besides, as long as she was careful, what harm could there be in a brief conversation?

“Fine.” Legs stiff, she crossed to the table and sank into a chair, setting her purse in front of her.

“Would you like coffee?” He indicated the pot. “It’s not the best brew I’ve ever had, but it does contain a generous amount of caffeine.” He offered her an engaging grin.

“No thanks. I’m not a coffee drinker.”

The detective pulled out the chair beside her, angled it her direction, and sat, his posture relaxed. Friendly. Approachable.

He and his partner had been polite at the house last night too. Not many men these days displayed the small courtesies, like standing in a woman’s presence. Including her husband.

“If you change your mind about a beverage, let me know. I’ll be happy to get you a soda if you prefer.” He pulled out a notebook, his demeanor pleasant.

“Thank you. I’m fine.”

She scrutinized him, trying to reconcile this well-mannered, accommodating man with the negative picture Steve had painted of him after she’d returned from her “errands” last night.

Failed.

Either Brent Lange was an excellent actor, or her husband hadn’t presented a truthful portrait of him and his partner.

On the other hand, the detective may not have been as cordial to Steve if he suspected him of harassing Eve. As if her husband would ever do such a thing. Steve had his faults, but he wasn’t a criminal, no matter what this man thought.

So she’d listen to what he had to say—and be careful in her replies. As Steve had reminded her, a wife didn’t have to talk to law enforcement about her spouse.

“Did your husband explain the nature of my visit to your house last night?” Detective Lange’s manner remained genial.

“Yes.”

“Were you surprised?”

“More like shocked. Trying to link my husband to the problems Eve has been having is . . . it’s ludicrous.”

“Did he tell you we found his DNA last Saturday close to her car at a middle school?”

“Yes. He assumed there must have been another incident. But he had a job at that school earlier in the week.”

“So he told us.”

“It’s true.”