Page 5 of Kindled Hearts

None of it had been proved, though. No one had ever been charged with the murders.

“Look, I already went through all this crap,” Owen growled. “I worked until 5:30 and then I went to the bar.”

“Callie’s place?” Xander clarified, glancing down at his notepad.

Owen’s lip twitched before he mumbled, “Yeah.”

I tilted my head, noticing the slight change in body language. He’d been closed off since we started the interview, arms crossed tight over his chest. He was tense, but that was to be expected. He didn’t trust us. At least, he didn’t trust the police. I couldn’t blame him. People thought for a long time that he had something to do with two of the most horrific murders Ember Hollow had ever seen.

Some people still did. Xander and I were lucky to have had alibis for that night or else we might’ve been as suspect as Owen had been.

“And you met up with Lily at Callie’s, right?”

“I didn’t meet up with her.” Owen looked away. “But I saw her there, sure.”

“You talked to her, though, right?”

Owen shrugged, still not looking at us.

I let out a long sigh. “I know you’re lying, Owen. We just need to know where she was last so we know where to start looking for her. You want to help us find her, don’t you?”

Owen’s lips thinned at the sound of my voice, but he refused to look my way. He hadn’t given me one passing glance the entire time. I didn’t know why. I wasn’t a cop anymore. Not in any official capacity.

I placed my elbows on the metal table and leaned toward him.

The muscles in his neck flexed as he leaned back in his chair.

“I’m not against you, Owen. I don’t work for the department. I’m just here trying to find this missing woman, and I think you might be able to help me with that.”

There was a beat of silence. “You’re wrong,” Owen croaked. “I don’t know where she is.”

“You were the last one to see her, man,” Xander cut in.

“That’s bullshit,” he spat, his eyes darting to Xander.

I frowned. He had no problem looking at the actual detective. Xander was the one in charge here, not me.

“Owen,” I said, my tone calm and even. “If what we’ve been told is bullshit, then set the record straight. Tell us your side of the story.”

Owen shifted in his chair. He began to fidget, now, his movements stiff and jerky. I waited. Xander waited. Owen rolled his neck from side to side as his right knee bounced. I almost smelled the nervousness on him. I just didn’t know why. Was it simply being questioned again? Was it being in this room after so many years? Or was it because he knew something we didn’t? Something that didn’t make him look good.

“I came in here to get you guys off my back. I already told you everything. I saw her last night, but I don’t know what happened to her. I didn’t see nothing. I didn’t hear nothing. I went home after a few beers and went to bed.” His brows knit, his mouth tightening. “I can’t help you.”

“I think you can, Owen,” I said, my last attempt to get him to give us more. Anything.

Owen swallowed. He squeezed his arms tighter around himself. “If you’re gonna keep asking me questions, I want a lawyer.”

My heart sank.

Xander and I shared a brief glance. The slight flare of his nostrils told me he was pissed, but there was nothing more we could do.

“I’ll be keeping in touch with you,” Xander said, almost in warning, as we both stood. “You’re free to go.” He pocketed his notebook.

I did the same with mine. There wasn’t a whole lot written from today, but I’d gotten into the habit of keeping one.

I followed Xander out of the interview room and down the hall toward his office. Ember Hollow was a small town; the police station wasn’t anything extravagant. The walls were tall, but dingy and old. The floors were slightly uneven and cracked beneath our feet. The department was located on the first floor of city hall, a historic building set apart by the old clock tower on the front. A town monument, in a way. Something that had been a part of the downtown skyline for a couple hundred years at this point.

“Close the door,” Xander clipped as he approached his desk.