Travis shrugged, bracing himself against the door frame so he loomed over her.

“So far just about your freaky little habit,” he said.

“You mean that video someone sent you?” she said, choosing her words carefully.

“Yup,” he said. “Man, I liked watching that. Such a bummer they took it down.”

Bingo. Garrett had sent him that link. Her heart swelled with excitement. If she could get her hands on his phone, she could prove it. She took a deep breath.

“I didn’t kill Sutton,” she said, a soft, pleading note entering her voice. “You believe me, don’t you?”

He smirked. “I don’t know, Emma. You were pretty violent with me. Always had a nasty temper.”

Emma tensed, fighting the angry retort that was rising in her chest. She’d kneed Travis in the groin once after he’d tried to cop a feel. That was what had led to his framing her for the theft of Clarice’s money.

Travis’s voice dropped conspiratorially. “Besides, Tucson’s a pretty nice place. The cops have me set up here all week—free HBO, room service. All for telling them anything I can about you.”

She looked up at him, blinking through her thick lashes, her eyes wide and vulnerable. I was impressed—back in the day, I’d been a master of the puppy-dog-in-the-rain look. If only she could make herself cry on command, Emma would give me a run for my money.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She gave her voice the slightest tremble, pretending to wipe at the corner of her eye.

Travis glanced left and right as if looking for eavesdroppers. Then he leaned forward, putting his mouth right by her ear as if to share a secret. His breath was rancid with sugar and pot. “The thing is, Emma, you’re a real bitch.”

It took all her willpower not to slap him in the face. But she had to play nice. Her lips slightly parted, she rested a hand on his bare bicep. Travis’s eyes flickered down to where she was touching him.

“I’m desperate,” she whispered, ignoring the surge of bile at the back of her throat. “I’ll do anything. You have to help me, Travis. You’re the only one who can.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment, his malice overcome by surprise. She ran her eyes appraisingly over his body, trying to look seductive, hunting for the telltale rectangular outline of his phone. There. It was in his front pocket, just against his hip.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Anything, huh?” He stepped back from the door, holding it open for her. As she stepped past him, he slapped her on the butt, and she jumped. Her stomach lurched. For a moment, she wondered if she was making a huge mistake. Travis was dangerous.

But Emma was tough, too. And she needed that phone.