Free Want Me by Cynthia Eden Page A

kill her, and now you want to know if someone else hurt her?”
    Duvato tried to rise again. And, again, the guard shoved him right back down.
    “I liked Sophie. Always did,” Duvato gritted out. “What I did…it had to be done. It was the only way to punish Ethan.”
    Right. Ethan Barclay. Clark held no love for that SOB. He’d been trying to nail the guy for crimes, hell, for years. But Barclay was too good at covering his tracks.
    With Sophie’s help, no doubt. He’d long suspected she and Ethan were lovers.
    “The cop told me there would be no deal,” Duvato said suddenly. “That lady detective…”
    Faith Chestang. Yes, Clark knew her. She’d been the one to run lead on Duvato’s case.
    “But she’s friends with Ethan. Another cop on the take with him. So she doesn’t want to hear what I’ve got to say about my ex-boss.” Duvato’s eyes gleamed. “You want to hear what I got to say? Because I’d sure like to see him tossed into a cell right beside mine.”
    He hadn’t come there for a deal. He’d gone there to give Duvato a warning. But now…
Maybe I can put that bastard Barclay away.
“I might be interested,” Clark allowed.
    Phil surged forward. “No! Not yet!” He held his briefcase in front of him like it was some kind of shield. “I have to speak with my client first. I need to know just what kind of evidence he’s got. That way I can see—”
    Clark waved his hand, cutting through Phil’s words. “You want to see just what you can get. Well, here, I’ll save you some trouble. I’ll tell you what I want. I want enough evidence to convict Ethan Barclay—not for a year, not for two years.” That just wouldn’t cut it. “I want to make sure he won’t be a threat to anyone else ever again, do you understand? So don’t jerk me around. Give me something real, and in return, I’ll try to make sure that the next twenty years aren’t a complete living hell for Duvato.”
    Then Clark marched for the door. “I’ll be back at nine a.m. Either you’ll have evidence for me or there will never be talk of another deal again.” Because he already had Duvato dead to rights, thanks to a confession the guy had given while in custody. But to get Ethan Barclay? Oh, hell, he might just bend a few rules.
    “What about the threat?” Phil called after him.
    Clark glanced back at the lawyer’s question.
    “Is my client in danger?”
    Clark turned his stare on Duvato. “You want extra guards?”
    Duvato smiled. “They’ll only get in my way.”
    Right. Whatever. He motioned to the officer on the other side of the door. The guy hurried and had him out in seconds. Clark was striding down the long corridor when Duvato’s words finally sank in…
    They’ll only get in my way.
    Those words didn’t really make sense. Not unless…
    Unless the bastard was planning something.
    Clark stilled.
    An escape attempt? Impossible. But…
    Phil’s briefcase had spilled. Duvato’s hands had reached for that case.
Had he grabbed some kind of weapon from it? Hell, to a desperate prisoner, even a pen could be a weapon. Jab it into your victim’s neck and—
    “Guards!” Clark bellowed as he whirled back toward the interrogation area. “Guards—secure the prisoner! Secure him now!”
    The officer who’d just let Clark out was already rushing inside that little room.
    But the sinking feeling in Clark’s throat told him it was too late. He ran inside.
    Blood. So much blood.
    Phil was on the ground, twitching. The guard who’d led Duvato into interrogation was on the floor, too, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, his body far too still.
    Duvato was still leaning over Phil. The lawyer was alive—his chest shuddering and—
    “Get away from him!” Clark bellowed.
    The guard who’d rushed in right before Clark had frozen. The man’s weapon was out, and Clark knew the guy was seconds away from shooting Duvato.
    Duvato’s right hand was fisted around what looked like—shit, it
was
—a bloody