Free To Touch a Thief (An Everly Gray Novella) by L. j. Charles

 
    Detective Stephens unlocked the door to her office, pushed it open, and turned to the uniformed team. “Let me know when you’re finished. And be sure to bag and tag her work computer.”  
    He turned back to Jayne, started to speak, but was interrupted by Officer Kennedy. She led him into the hall, only muffled conversation floating back to reach Jayne’s ears.  
    They confronted her a few minutes later. “What do you know about toxic plants? ” Detective Stephens asked.
    “Nothing.” Jayne said, and rubbed her hand against her chest, trying to suck in some air.
    “No? Well, Ms. Hunt, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re under arrest for the murder of Emir Solomon Tarik.”  

 
    ELEVEN
     
    Jayne Hunt and Mitchell Hunt
     
    Arrest? The detective’s words ate all the oxygen in her office, and black threatened the edge of Jayne’s vision. She tried to focus on him, on what he was saying, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around being handcuffed a second time. And this was real. Not a sting operation.  
    “I can’t be under arrest.” Damn, but she couldn’t stop the quiver in her voice. “I’m already under arrest.”  
    Her body shook. And she didn’t have on any underwear. Just Parker’s sweats. Parker’s too-big sweats. “I need to get dressed. I can’t leave the building like this.” She glanced down at herself, tried to move her hands, but the metal cuffs cut into her wrists, stopping the motion.  
    Reality hit.  
    An arctic blast of fear cut through her body.  
    “I don’t have an attorney.” Her words hung in the air, hitting her with another round of reality.  
    “No problem. You can call one from the station.” Detective Stephens grasped her arm and led her out of Steele Management, Inc. and toward the waiting squad car.
    “No.” She yanked her arm free from his grip, bruising herself as the handcuffs cut into her skin. “I’m making the call now. It’ll take a while to process me, and—”
    “Not my problem, Ms. Hunt. Finding out why you killed Tarik, now that interests me.” This time when his fingers circled her arm there was steel in the grip.
    After two hours of being held in a silent interrogation room, she was allowed to call Mitch.
    “Hey, Sis.”  
    His greeting released all the frustration she’d squashed since being arrested, and words poured out of her, tight with fear. “I’m under arrest for the murder of Solomon Tarik—”  
    “You’re what? That’s insane. Who the hell arrested you? And where the fuck is Steele?”
    “Detective Joe Stephens arrested me. They separated us, so I don’t know where Parker is. Find him. Get me out of here. And then we can figure out what to do.”
    “Bail posted yet?”
    “Probably not, since I haven’t had a hearing. I asked to be released on my own recognizance, but they laughed and said that would be up to the judge. They also made some arrogantly irritating comments about this being my second arrest in a matter of weeks.” Her voice shook.
    “Okay. I’m on it. Don’t say anything to anyone.”
     
    Mitch put down the phone, scrubbed his hands over his face, then picked up the handset again and punched in a number. “Steele,” he bit out when Parker answered.  
    “Hunt. Where’s Jayne. Have you heard from her? They separated us and wouldn’t let me near a phone until a few minutes ago. I called her condo. No answer.”  
    “She said they’d arrested her for Tarik’s murder. What the fuck is going on?”
    “That’s impossible. I’ll meet you at the jail in fifteen minutes—with my attorney.”
    “I’m at my house. It’ll take a half hour to get there.” Mitch grabbed his jacket off a hook by the door. “I’ll let El know, then give Adam Stone a call.”  
    “Stone’s solid. You know him well enough to pull strings?”  
    “Good friend of El’s and mine. And he knows Jayne. She’ll be released by the time I get there,” Mitch said, then disconnected.  
    He passed his