and she couldn’t do that anymore, now could she?
Anger started to form in the pit of her queasy stomach, somewhat steadying her nerves. She shouldn’t have to feel like this when seeking answers for her brother’s murder. Detective Chaisson? Had she heard that name before? Devyn had been in such shock over finding out Joey had died that the detective’s name who had been questioning her hadn’t even registered. She was beginning to see why innocent people ended up being blamed for something they didn’t do—emotionally torn and not really listening to what was being said.
“That was Starr,” Trigger said, lowering his phone and then putting it back in the front pocket of his jeans. He reached over and took a hold of her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “She made some calls and has a lawyer by the name of James Eiland lined up as your attorney. From what she said, he’s already spoken to Detective Chaisson and advised him of his representation on your behalf.”
“Can a lawyer do that without having talked to me first?” Devyn asked with a frown. She had conflicting emotions over someone she’d never met taking control of the situation. “What if I don’t like him? What if he thinks I’m guilty?”
“You don’t need to like him. This man is no doubt a stone-cold professional.” Trigger had shaved this morning, so the muscle in his jawline moved gracefully when he spoke. He appeared so confident that this would turn out okay. “You just need to let him do his job. As for Eiland taking over your case without even speaking with you? Trust me, Starr has a way of getting things done. I imagine Chaisson’s approach might take on some subtleties it lacked before.”
There was a loud click that resounded through the entrance. Detective Chaisson appeared in a grey suit, the color close in shade to the paint on the wall. His white shirt was crisp and freshly pressed, but his tie was askew as if he’d been moving it aside every time it got in his way during a recent conversation. He had rimless glasses that made it appear he wasn’t wearing any, but she now recalled his habit of pushing them up the bridge of his nose when he talked. He did so now as he zeroed in on her presence. From the narrowing of his eyes, it seemed as if she were still his number one suspect.
“Ms. Wilde, I didn’t expect to see you this morning.” Detective Chaisson gave a cursory glance over to Trigger. “Mr. Dixon. You must be the owner of Mac’s Auto Repair.”
Chaisson held out an arm and waited for Trigger to accept his offer. The two shook hands before the detective escorted them through the heavy security door.
“That would be my place of business,” Trigger acknowledged, purposefully resting a hand on Devyn’s lower back. Every move he was making was very calculated. She had to wonder why, but she went along with it for the time being. “I have some questions regarding Joey’s murder, along with the fact that I wasn’t properly notified of a search being conducted on my property. I would like to see a copy of the warrant.”
Detective Chaisson led them down a narrow hallway with several offices on either side before they entered a somewhat larger room with four desks, eight chairs, and numerous filing cabinets. This wasn’t where they’d brought her in for initial questioning, but the more relaxed atmosphere didn’t make her feel any better.
It wasn’t as busy here as Devyn would have thought, although phones were ringing in the distance with the low murmurs of conversations being held. Another detective walked in behind them without a glance, maneuvering past them and walking to his desk in the far right-hand corner of the room. He took a seat and picked up his phone, obviously working a case of his own.
“I’m sorry?” Detective Chaisson asked as he pulled another chair up to the one already beside his desk so that the two of them could sit side by side while talking. His blue
Anger started to form in the pit of her queasy stomach, somewhat steadying her nerves. She shouldn’t have to feel like this when seeking answers for her brother’s murder. Detective Chaisson? Had she heard that name before? Devyn had been in such shock over finding out Joey had died that the detective’s name who had been questioning her hadn’t even registered. She was beginning to see why innocent people ended up being blamed for something they didn’t do—emotionally torn and not really listening to what was being said.
“That was Starr,” Trigger said, lowering his phone and then putting it back in the front pocket of his jeans. He reached over and took a hold of her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “She made some calls and has a lawyer by the name of James Eiland lined up as your attorney. From what she said, he’s already spoken to Detective Chaisson and advised him of his representation on your behalf.”
“Can a lawyer do that without having talked to me first?” Devyn asked with a frown. She had conflicting emotions over someone she’d never met taking control of the situation. “What if I don’t like him? What if he thinks I’m guilty?”
“You don’t need to like him. This man is no doubt a stone-cold professional.” Trigger had shaved this morning, so the muscle in his jawline moved gracefully when he spoke. He appeared so confident that this would turn out okay. “You just need to let him do his job. As for Eiland taking over your case without even speaking with you? Trust me, Starr has a way of getting things done. I imagine Chaisson’s approach might take on some subtleties it lacked before.”
There was a loud click that resounded through the entrance. Detective Chaisson appeared in a grey suit, the color close in shade to the paint on the wall. His white shirt was crisp and freshly pressed, but his tie was askew as if he’d been moving it aside every time it got in his way during a recent conversation. He had rimless glasses that made it appear he wasn’t wearing any, but she now recalled his habit of pushing them up the bridge of his nose when he talked. He did so now as he zeroed in on her presence. From the narrowing of his eyes, it seemed as if she were still his number one suspect.
“Ms. Wilde, I didn’t expect to see you this morning.” Detective Chaisson gave a cursory glance over to Trigger. “Mr. Dixon. You must be the owner of Mac’s Auto Repair.”
Chaisson held out an arm and waited for Trigger to accept his offer. The two shook hands before the detective escorted them through the heavy security door.
“That would be my place of business,” Trigger acknowledged, purposefully resting a hand on Devyn’s lower back. Every move he was making was very calculated. She had to wonder why, but she went along with it for the time being. “I have some questions regarding Joey’s murder, along with the fact that I wasn’t properly notified of a search being conducted on my property. I would like to see a copy of the warrant.”
Detective Chaisson led them down a narrow hallway with several offices on either side before they entered a somewhat larger room with four desks, eight chairs, and numerous filing cabinets. This wasn’t where they’d brought her in for initial questioning, but the more relaxed atmosphere didn’t make her feel any better.
It wasn’t as busy here as Devyn would have thought, although phones were ringing in the distance with the low murmurs of conversations being held. Another detective walked in behind them without a glance, maneuvering past them and walking to his desk in the far right-hand corner of the room. He took a seat and picked up his phone, obviously working a case of his own.
“I’m sorry?” Detective Chaisson asked as he pulled another chair up to the one already beside his desk so that the two of them could sit side by side while talking. His blue
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