What She Doesn't See by Debra Webb Page A

area. Next
he picked up the tools and put them away. He swiped his palms
together to dust them off. “What did you talk about?”
    Uncertain as to just how much she should
share with this handsome stranger, she hesitated a couple seconds
too long.
    “I could obtain a warrant for your phone
records.”
    A warrant? “For the details of a personal
telephone conversation I’ve already shared with the local police?”
Why were the feds suddenly interested in Hitch’s accident? What had
changed since she last spoke to Patton? No, she decided, this
wasn’t about Hitch at all. “If you’re that worried, why don’t you
just arrest me?”
    Government stuff. The kind of data we
civilians aren’t supposed to see if we want to stay alive.
    Maybe Timothy O’Neill was more right than he
knew.
    “I wouldn’t have to arrest you, Alex,” Murphy
said as he closed the cargo door. “I could bring you in as a person
of interest to the case.”
    ‘To what case?” She refused to admit anything
more than what she’d said already. “Why didn’t Detective Patton say
anything about Hitch’s accident being under further
investigation?”
    There was something wrong about this sudden
development. Anger started to simmer low in her gut. If Patton had
suspected something, he should have told her. He had no business
leaving her in the dark like this.
    Then again, she had pretty much left him in
the dark, too.
    “Detective Patton only knows what he needs to
know. This is my investigation. The locals have been instructed as
to the hands-off nature of the situation,” Murphy said, drawing her
away from her frustrating thoughts. He reached for his jacket and
folded it neatly over his left arm.
    When another scenario elbowed its way into
her evolving conclusions, the mixture of irritation and wariness
churning inside her gave way to outrage. This could be
the
man
.
The man who’d showed up at O’Neill’s house with
Hitch. The same one who’d killed him.
    “Thanks for taking care of the tire.” She
stretched her lips into a fake smile. “I’d love to stay and chat
some more, but I have an appointment.”
    Call her dramatic, but when Murphy reached
into the interior pocket of his jacket— even though she’d held said
jacket and knew he couldn’t possibly have been carrying a weapon
without her noticing the additional weight—her breath caught.
    “Take my card.” He held out an elegantly
embossed business card. “I’d like you to call me if you remember
anything that might be helpful to this investigation.”
    She reached for the card, but he held on to
it long enough to add, “I’m quite certain you want to see justice
for your friend.”
    He released the card and walked away.
    Alex was still standing there when he drove
off in his sporty Mercedes.
    She stared at the card that displayed his
name and phone number. Shouldn’t Federal Bureau of Investigation be
inscribed there as well?
    If only O’Neill had gotten a look at the guy
who’d been with Hitch. She couldn’t be sure whether this Murphy
character was a good guy or a bad one. What she needed was to talk
to Patton. If the feds were investigating Hitch’s accident, the
locals would have to know even if they weren’t involved. Murphy had
said as much, called his investigation hands-off as far as the
locals were concerned. The only way the locals would back off was
if the feds had jurisdiction that superseded their own.
    Alex slid behind the wheel of her SUV and
started the engine. She set the air-conditioning to maximum and dug
for her phone. With Miami Beach PD on speed dial, she entered the
necessary extension and pushed her hair behind her shoulders to let
the cooling air flow over her throat.
    When Patton came on the line, she didn’t
mince words. “Hey, why didn’t you tell me the feds were
investigating Hitch’s accident?”
    A heavy sigh echoed across the line. “What
are you talking about, Alex?”
    Alex
. She saw how it was.
    “I’m talking about this