Free You Don't Know Jack by Adrianne Lee Page B

had spared no expense. Round tables covered in floor length white cloths dominated, the decor decked out as lavishly as a wedding reception. Guests were everywhere, packed elbow to elbow. A sumptuous buffet spread across two long tables and spiced the air with mouth-watering aromas. Mourners were queued and filling plates.
    I spied Stone's older brother, Duke, and his father, Carl near the bar. Carl, a retired Seattle Police officer, was my father's partner when Daddy was murdered. Duke, a high powered criminal attorney, was as polished as Stone was rugged.
    I didn't see Stone, but he was here. Somewhere. I felt him in the undercurrent of nerves shivering beneath my flesh, in the prickling of my neck. I wished to hell I could get over it. Over him. Under him.
    "There's Bruce." Apollo pointed with one of the cameras and captured the moment.
    I scanned the group around Bruce. They ranged from hunks of masculine beef-cake in muscle shirts with nose and eyebrow rings to drag queens resembling the usual celebrities. Sorrow appeared to be the expression of choice. I wondered if one of them was the consummate actor, a killer hiding behind the mask he showed the world.
    Say, Bruce.
    Okay, maybe I just wanted it to be Bruce. Or someone, anyone, who wasn't Apollo.
    I snapped photos of the crowd, seated at tables and standing near the wall, recognizing a few local notables, the mayor of Renton, a candidate for governor and a senator. And a few non-notables, including the barista from The Daily Grind espresso stand, a mini-mart clerk, and the owner of a favorite Chinese restaurant.
    "There she is," Apollo motioned to a woman across the room, and aimed his camera in her direction. "Batty Peppermint Patty."
    My gaze followed his lead to a head of dark chocolate hair with a Cruella de Vil snowy streak through its center. That was all I could make out from this distance. I would have to squeeze my way through the crowd to reach her.
    But Bruce spotted me first. "You!"
    A hush ran through the room. I felt the crowd shift, felt curious gazes lock and load onto the drama they sensed about to unfold.
    Bruce waved his arms, the gauzy black sleeves of his designer blouse flapping like wings, giving him the appearance of a rabid, towheaded bat. "How dare you bring Lars' murderer here!"
    A collective gasp sounded as Bruce pointed at Apollo.
    "No!" How dare he humiliate my best friend?! "He didn't do it. He's innocent."
    "The murder weapon was found in his car."
    I gaped at Bruce. "What murder weapon?"
    "The knife."
    Lars had been stabbed to death? An image flashed of Madam Zee running her finger across her neck, followed by an image of my hands covered in blood. The knife was found in Apollo's car? "No."
    "Touching of you to defend him... since you gave the police the tie he left behind after killing Lars."
    Vaguely I was aware of Apollo gasping, then mouth agape, pivoting toward me, his face full of shock and disbelief and hurt.
    I'm pretty sure my heart stopped cold, then and there, that I died on the spot, that for a whole minute or two I was hovering over my body peering down on the nightmarish scene of Bruce accusing, Apollo horrified, and the guests gaping.
    " Jack B , y ou gave Maddox the tie?" Apollo's fire-spitting tone jolted me back into my body, to feel the full fury of the hell-heat of my betrayal.
    "I — I—" Crap. I couldn't speak. There was no defense. No denial. My cheeks burned the truth. Anger at myself brought me nose to nose with Bruce. "Apollo had no motive."
    "No motive?" Bruce released a humorless laugh. "Are you kidding? You don't know about the letters? Talk about incriminating."
    Letters? The words hit me like darts piercing a bullseye. I wanted to deny what Bruce was saying. I pictured us standing there playing an adolescent game of "Did not!" "Did so!" I barely kept from shouting, "You're a liar just like Lars! There are no incriminating letters! You're trying to cover your own guilty ass!"
    But some part of me was too