Free Dangerous Kisses (Siren Publishing Classic) by Tonya Ramagos Page B

locks, and patched peepholes. Given the progression of the casinos flanking the building and the nicer structures overtaking the strip, she didn’t expect the Gulf Towers to be standing much longer unless the owners dove into a major overhaul.
    She stopped at apartment 629 and rapped sharply on the door. She heard shuffling from inside the apartment, voices speaking too low to be understood, and then the door opened with an eerie creak. Robert’s gaze landed on her first, and she noted the instant recognition in his eyes. His attention flicked to Cusack, the recognition twisting with a swirl of apprehension.
    “Sergeant Jerry Cusack with the Biloxi Police Department,” Cusack said by way of introduction. “I believe you know Detective Megan Pontius. We would like to talk to you about Paul Colton’s murder. Mind if we come in?”
    Robert didn’t say anything, but he stepped aside to allow them room to enter. Training and years on the force had Megan taking in the apartment in a glance. A wooden coffee table and matching end tables sat around a stained flower-print sofa. A tall glass cabinet enclosing an impressive collection of guns and knives occupied the closest wall next to a particle board entertainment center with a television set to a low volume. It was easy to see what topped Robert’s list of financial priorities. It also raised the question that if the man owned so many knives, why would he need to borrow one from someone else?
    A bar divided the living room from the kitchen where a boney blonde stood at the sink with her back to the bar. Megan scanned the woman’s back, noted the short bob of blonde ringlets, and recognition hit in an instant. She shot a look at Cusack, gave an almost imperceptible jerk of her head toward Debbie Norman, and Cusack lifted a brow, clearly intrigued.
    “Miss Norman.” Cusack stopped at the bar. “I didn’t expect to find you here, but I’m glad I did. I have a few more questions. Why don’t you join us?”
    “You said you wanted to talk about my uncle’s murder. He was attacked by a shark,” Robert said, his tone deadpan. “Since when is that considered murder?”
    “It isn’t, unless the victim is stabbed before the attack.”
    Debbie gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she whirled from the kitchen sink. “Stabbed? How? By who?”
    “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Cusack answered.
    Megan turned her attention to Robert. “The murder weapon, an Atomic Ti6 titanium-blade diver knife, was found in the grating around the tiger shark tank this morning with the initials D and R etched into the handle cap. Drake Allen has confirmed that it belongs to him. However, he says he loaned that knife to you a couple of weeks ago and you never returned it.”
    “I put it in my locker in the employee room and forgot about it.” Robert lifted his boney shoulders. “When I cleaned out my locker yesterday after Paul fired me, it wasn’t there.”
    “Who had access to your locker?” Cusack asked.
    “Hell, anybody in that place.” Robert waved a dismissive hand in the air. “We never kept locks on them. There was never a reason to.”
    “You and your uncle had quite an exchange of words yesterday afternoon.” Cusack pulled a small notebook and pen from his breast pocket and leveled his gaze on Robert.
    “We had a fight,” Robert admitted cynically. “And he fired me, like I just said.”
    “You threatened him,” Megan chimed in. “I believe ‘You’re the one that’s going to regret this, Uncle Paul. I’ll make sure you do,’ were your exact words.”
    Robert crossed his arms and glared at her. “Yeah, I said that. I meant it, too. I knew Aunt Marie wouldn’t let him fire me without giving him hell about it.”
    “Is that how you intended to make sure he regretted it?” Cusack asked, lifting one brow.
    “Damn right it is. I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
    Megan leaned a shoulder against the wall behind her.