Mine to Keep (Mine 2)

Gulping, she tried again, saying, “Parker?”

Then she saw that…something…was on his chest. Something small. Metal. Silver?

Right in the middle of all that blood.

Her eyes narrowed on the object.

It looked like a military dog tag. She inched closer and noticed the outline of the letters.

W-E-S-T-O-N.

“Skye?”

The shout came from the entrance of the alley.

Her hand swiped out. She grabbed the dog tag and shoved it into her pocket.

Footsteps thundered toward her.

She glanced up and met Alex’s shocked stare. Two uniformed officers stood behind him.

Those officers had their guns drawn and pointed straight at her.

Skye lifted her hands, holding her palms up. “I found him like this.”

Alex’s gaze was on the dead man. “That’s Parker Jacobs.”

“I didn’t kill him.”

His eyes lifted to study her hands. Crap. Had she gotten blood on her fingers when she snatched up that dog tag? “I-I saw him and tried to help.”

“There’s no helping the dead.”

No, there wasn’t.

Maybe he isn’t the one I was sent to help.

Skye rose, slowly. “I’m not a threat.”

Alex frowned.

“Th-the guns,” she said.

He looked back. Swore. “Drop the weapons!” Alex ordered, his voice snapping with command. “And call the ME. We’re gonna need the wagon for this one.”

He advanced toward her. Skye realized that she’d dropped her bag and her phone. They were still on the ground near the body.

And, of course, her phone would begin to vibrate and ring right at that exact moment.

An image of Trace filled the phone’s screen.

Chapter Nine

Police cruisers blocked the mouth of the alley. Trace jumped from his vehicle and rushed forward, but a uniformed cop held up a hand, blocking his way. “Sorry, sir, but you need to step back.”

What he needed was to find out what the hell was happening.

As if on cue, a dark van pulled up behind him. The side of the van held two simple words written in garish yellow: County Coroner.

Then he saw her. Trace caught a glimpse of Skye’s dark hair as she bent near the side of a patrol car. She was climbing into the back seat of that cruiser.

Being arrested?

He lunged toward her. “Skye!”

Her head turned at his call, and the man next to her straightened. Trace wasn’t particularly surprised to see Alex Griffin there.

“What happened?” Trace demanded. He wanted to reach for Skye and pull her into his arms, but after the scene last night, he didn’t know how she’d react to his touch. To him.

“I found Parker’s body.” Her voice was low.

His heart wouldn’t slow down.

“He’d been stabbed. And his throat was slit.”

And she’d seen that.

He glanced away from her too pale face and found Alex watching him. The suspicion was obvious in the man’s gaze.

“I just got here,” Trace growled at him. “Go talk to your uniforms. They saw me arrive.”

Because he’d raced like hell across town. When Skye’s phone had cut out, and she hadn’t answered his calls back, Trace had panicked.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll definitely be talking to the uniforms.” Alex focused his attention back on Skye. “I still don’t understand why you were in that alley.”

She licked her lips. Cut her gaze away from Alex. Looked at Trace. Then back to the cop.

A sign she’s lying.

“I was taking a break between my classes. I-I wanted some air so I went for a walk,” Skye said.

“Into an alley?” The detective was obviously doubting her answer. He knows that she’s lying, too.

“I was looking at the art in the window.” She pointed to the shop on the corner. “Then I—I thought I heard someone calling for help in the alley, so I went-”

“Men who’ve had their throats slit don’t usually call for help,” Alex pointed out, voice flat.

She jerked, but her gaze kept meeting the cop’s. “Then I guess I imagined the voice.”

“I guess you did,” Alex muttered.