Free The Shelter of His Arms (Harlequin Heartwarming) by Dawn Stewardson

was a master at blindsiding suspects. And the thought of Celeste not even realizing she had a problem until someone was reading her her rights...
    He felt as if he were about to step onto a tightrope without a safety net. But as long as he was careful about what he said and didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know, he wouldn’t really be doing anything he shouldn’t.
    “Look...Celeste,” he began. “I’m trusting you won’t repeat what I’m about to say.”
    “All right,” she agreed slowly.
    He hesitated once more, then said, “Remember, when Hank and I were here on Sunday, he mentioned that your brother might have had a female visitor shortly before he was killed?”
    “Yes. But I wasn’t thinking straight at the time. I explained that, didn’t I? Told you it was hours before I realized I should have said it was probably Jill Flores?”
    “Uh-huh. You told me.”
    “And?” she prompted when he didn’t continue right away.
    “And...do you remember him asking if you were in your brother’s apartment that night?”
    “Yes. I said I wasn’t. That I was right here, working.”
    He nodded.
    For a moment she merely looked confused, then she murmured, “Oh, no. Travis, are you saying he thinks...”
    She shook her head, as if finding the realization impossible to comprehend. “Are you saying he thinks I might have killed Steve?” she asked at last. “And...what about you? Do you think—”
    “No. I don’t.”
    When she caught her bottom lip with her teeth he had an almost uncontrollable urge to move nearer and wrap his arms around her.
    Instead, he made himself stay right where he was and said, “Celeste...this is a tricky situation. I can’t really discuss the specifics of the case with you, but...let me talk in generalities, okay?”
    “Okay,” she said, gazing at him.
    Her eyes were a darker blue than usual—colored, he knew, by fear. And her skin had grown pale.
    He gave her a reassuring smile before saying, “I know you’ve heard this a million times on TV, but I just want you to think about it for a minute.
    “Until a suspect has been read her rights, nothing she says to a police officer can be used in a court of law. But once she is read her rights, it’s in her best interest not to say another word until she has a lawyer present.”
    Hesitating one more time, he assured himself there was no such charge as “counseling a suspect.” Then he added, “And someone in a...potentially uncomfortable position might want to talk to a good criminal lawyer. Get a clear understanding of where she stands.”
    “You’re saying I’m a serious suspect,” she whispered.
    “I’m speaking in general terms,” he said, hoping his expression was telling her that was only because he had no choice. “But if anyone asked me to recommend a good criminal lawyer, I certainly could.”
    “Oh, Travis,” she murmured. “This can’t be happening.”
    He gazed at her for a long moment, aware that getting involved with her would only be begging for trouble. But she was so clearly distraught that he couldn’t stop himself from sliding along the couch and taking her in his arms.
    “Oh, Travis,” she murmured again.
    * * *
    C ELESTE RESTED her cheek against the solid warmth of Travis’s shoulder, acutely aware she hadn’t been held like this in a long, long time.
    It felt good to have someone care. To have this particular someone care. This man whose scent started her thinking about autumn in the country.
    She wished she could simply drink in his strength and pretend everything was wonderful in her little corner of the world. But she was nowhere near that good at pretense.
    Detective Hank Ballantyne suspected her of murdering Steve. So even though Travis didn’t... Or was he only claiming he didn’t?
    An unsettled feeling began snaking through her as she considered that.
    NYPD detectives were a devious bunch. Her estranged husband must have told her a hundred different stories about sneaky