Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 58: Interrogation #3

The interrogation room is too familiar.

Officer Daniels sits in a chair across from me, as if we’re friends. The table is scooted off to the side this time, I guess to give a more intimate atmosphere.

But it’s all fake.

My skin itches and burns, leaving me shifting restlessly in my seat, even as I chide myself to stop. All that movement’s going to make me look guilty.

But it’s frustrating. Why should someone innocent ever have to worry about looking guilty?

Maybe it’s being a little too much poor me, but seriously—it’s ridiculous. I’m a victim, too. I might be alive, but I seriously need to spend a solid month on a therapist’s couch with a gallon of ice cream daily and some soft squishy stuffed animals to cuddle with.

Biting back the hysterical giggle bubbling up at that thought, I focus instead on Officer Daniels’ words.

"And what is the nature of your relationship with Officer Everett, Ms. d’Armand?"

Sliding a hand through my hair in frustration, I ask, "What does that have to do with the attack on Officer Nancy?"

Apparently her last name is Stewart. Officer Nancy Stewart. But that sounds weird in my head, so I keep calling her Officer Nancy.

"He seemed pretty ready to jump to your rescue when I was just asking a few innocent questions. I’m thinking there’s a reason for that, isn’t there?"

Yeah, there are. But I’m not going to throw him under the bus, even though it’s pretty clear by this point that he’s going to be taken off my case.

"Maybe he realized something weird’s going on and he wanted to be an upstanding officer of the law," I drawl, kicking myself mentally for my antagonistic sarcasm.

Officer Daniels, still playing friendly, leans forward, his hands loosely clasped between his knees. "Now, this shifter you claim you saw—"

The door to the interrogation room opens, and the familiar face of Officer Davis pops in. "Mind if I join in, Daniels?"

"Not a problem."

Officer Davis takes the only remaining chair in the room, flashing me a warm smile. "Hello, Ms. d’Armand. I’m sorry to hear about what happened."

"Thank you." My answer is mechanical. Automatic, really.

Officer Davis leans forward, his eyes softening with practiced concern. "Do you need anything, Ms. d’Armand? Water? Coffee?"

I shake my head, exhaustion seeping into my bones. "No, thank you."

Officer Daniels clears his throat, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand. "Let’s revisit the black panther shifter you mentioned. We found no trace of anyone else at the scene. No scent, no footprints, nothing to suggest another person was there."

"His DNA should be on Officer Nancy. There has to be a paw print or something in blood. He didn’t appear out of thin air."

They share another look, this one heavy with skepticism. Officer Daniels leans forward. "There’s nothing, Ms. d’Armand. Can you explain why that might be?"

I shake my head. "No. I can’t." I really have no idea at all, and the way they look at each other with meaningful gazes only makes my heart rate escalate. Logan’s words come to my head. "Do I need a lawyer?"

Officer Davis hesitates, his expression carefully neutral. "Well, that’s entirely up to you. We’re just trying to get to the bottom of what happened."

Officer Daniels nods, but I can see the frustration simmering beneath his professional demeanor. "If you feel you need one..."

I’ve seen enough crime dramas to know where this is heading. If even Logan’s warning me to keep my mouth shut without a lawyer, I’m going to end it here. "I’d like to go home now. I’ve already given my statement."

They exchange another look, this one tinged with annoyance. Officer Davis sighs. "Alright, Ms. d’Armand. You’re free to go for now. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions."

I stand, my legs shaky beneath me. As I make my way to the lobby, my mind whirls with questions. How could there be no evidence? I saw it happen. I was there. Traces of people don’t just disappear.

Damn. I should have asked about my car. Surely they saw the giant panther-sized dent in it back then. Proof he really exists.

Lost in thought, I nearly collide with someone in the lobby. I look up to see Ethan, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. Seriously, does this guy live here or something?

I know it’s his workplace, but there’s no reason for me to run into him every time I’m here. I’d think he was my stalker if I didn’t already know he has a massive thing for Penelope.

Officer Daniels, who’s followed me out, nods at him, speaking politely. "Officer Lewis."

Lewis? My brain struggles for a second. Logan calls him Ethan. Why would Logan use his first name when everyone uses last names around here? It’s a detail I didn’t notice before, but now seems strange, especially considering everything Penelope learned about them.

Ethan hates Logan, but they’re close enough to use first names? It doesn’t seem right.

The creepy vampire officer’s lips curl into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. "Need a ride home, Nicole?"

And now he’s calling me by my first name. Like we’re acquainted.

Every instinct screams at me to stay far away from him. "No, thank you. I’ve already called for one." I haven’t, but I can call up a rideshare with a press of a button on my app. I wouldn’t get in this man’s car if I was paid a million dollars.

What’s the use of a million dollars if you aren’t alive to use it? I have a healthy sense of self-preservation... sometimes.

Hurrying past him, I can feel his eyes on me until I’m out the door and into the crisp night air.

Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s like I’ve stepped into some twisted alternate reality where up is down and nothing is as it seems. And someone has a serious vendetta against me, but what the hell did I do to deserve it?