The Good Neighbor. Sharon Mignerey

that once more laced Detective Prescott’s voice.

      “And that morning—what day was that?”

      “Last Saturday.”

      “And you confronted him?”

      “I did.” Megan felt her throat close as she remembered those moments, now wishing they had never happened. “We got into it, and to be honest, I don’t remember exactly what I said to him, but I do remember telling him that he was a thief and he didn’t deserve to be Helen’s grandson…and that she would be better off without him. Mr. Johansen saw us, and I’m sure he’ll tell you pretty much the same thing if you ask him.”

      “You do realize what you’re telling me, don’t you?”

      Megan opened her mouth to speak, then stopped when the detective held up his hand.

      “If Johansen corroborates your story and says that you threatened Robby Russell…” His eyes bore into hers, and something there softened imperceptibly. “You need a lawyer.”

      She nodded her head. “Is this the part where you tell me that I’m a suspect?”

      “Yeah.” His voice turned gravelly. “At the moment, you’re my only suspect.”

      FOUR

      You’re my only suspect. The statement was at odds with Wade Prescott’s gentle expression she kept seeing in his eyes, despite his tough demeanor.

      Megan had weighed the risks before deciding to be so open, and she really had believed this would all be okay. This was all so surreal that the urge to laugh bubbled up when Megan remembered how she had felt this morning when she had first walked out of her house. This was to have been a perfect day. It had all the ingredients—crisp autumn weather, a patient who was progressing well under her care, a life that pleased her. She had an equal urge to cry over how the day had turned out. Unfair as all this was, the day had been a far worse one for Helen Russell, a thought that burned behind Megan’s eyes.

      She met Wade’s gaze, which had softened. She really wished he’d stop looking at her that way because it made her want to like him.