"Devon!" The male voice came through the wall beside them.

"Did he do that to you?" she asked.

Devon glanced up at her, then down at his feet again.

Courtney clenched her teeth. She made a valiant effort not to curse. Instead, she jerked her cell phone out of her purse and switched on the camera setting.

"Look up." He did, and she snapped a picture. "Now lock this door behind me. And don't open it again unless it's me or your mom."

He looked confused, but he nodded. She stepped outside and listened for the click of her bolt. Then she descended the front steps while dialing 911. She approached the pickup at the end of the driveway and looked at the license plate. It was splattered with mud, just like the sides of the truck and the chrome running boards.

"I'm at 925 Oak Trail," she told the operator. "I need a police officer."

"What's the nature of your emergency?"

Courtney leaned over to wipe the dirt off the plate. She wasn't sure whether the camera feature worked during a phone conversation. Snap. Apparently, it did.

"A domestic disturbance," she said. "I need someone right now."

"Could you describe the disturbance?"

The front door swung open, and Courtney glanced up. "He's about five-ten. Buzz cut. Acne scars."

Amy's boyfriend barreled across the lawn wearing only blue jeans. "Hey! What're you doing?"

"That's 925 Oak Trail. Please hurry." She dropped the phone in her purse but kept the line open.

"Morning," she said to him, trying to remember his name.

"What are you doing to my truck?" He stopped in front of her and plunked his hands on his hips. Courtney's heels put her slightly above eye level with him.

"I'm just admiring it," she said. "I'm thinking of getting one."

"You took a picture of it!"

"Yes. I really like those tires. Very impressive."

He frowned down at the massive mudders.

"I've got this theory about men with big tires," she said. "I'll have to run it by Amy, see what she thinks."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Where's Devon?"

Courtney gazed down the empty street. No police car. No siren. Not one single cop at the Dunkin' Donuts on the corner, which had to be a first. Courtney's heart started to palpitate.

"I sent him out for doughnut holes," she said, smiling. "I'm sure he'll get you one."

His gaze zeroed in on her purse. "Hand over the camera."

She inched back. "It's not a camera."

"That phone thingie. I know what you're up to."

He reached for her bag, and she lurched backward. He thrust his arm out and jerked the purse right off her shoulder.

"Hey!" She made a grab for it, but he held her off with an elbow as he rummaged through. Her stuff rained down: sunglasses, lipsticks, a suede pouch containing an eight-hundred-dollar pair of scissors.

"Hands off! That's my property!" She grabbed the bag and tried to wrestle it away, and the next instant she landed hard on her butt in the middle of the street. Shock paralyzed her for a moment, but then she jumped to her feet. A gray sedan screeched to a stop in front of her house. Cops. Finally.

Will Hodges got out of the car, and Courtney stalked up to him. "Arrest this man! He assaulted me and my neighbor! And he stole my purse!"

"Bullshit!"

Will shot an icy look at Amy's boyfriend. The idiot was standing there holding Courtney's bag.

"Up against the car," Will ordered.

The boyfriend scowled. "Who the hell are you?"

Will whipped out his ID, and Courtney took the opportunity to snatch back her purse. She started picking up her things.

Will turned to her. "In the car."

"What?"

"In the car. Now. Or I'm going to arrest you."

"Me? What about him?"

Will turned his back on her. "Hands on the roof. Feet apart."

Amy's boyfriend looked like he knew the drill. "This is bullshit, man! She was vandalizing my truck!"

Will glowered at Courtney and pulled open the sedan's back door. "Don't make me tell you again."

She slid into the backseat. Her hands shook with outrage as she rummaged through her purse and clicked off her phone. Arrest her. What a joke. A siren sounded faintly in the distance and grew louder as Will frisked and cuffed the boyfriend. Courtney peered out the window and saw Amy and Devon standing on the porch, watching. Amy said something to her son, and he disappeared into the house. Then she made her way down the sidewalk, clutching the lapels of her terry-cloth robe together.

Courtney tried to open the door, but it was locked. Will must have heard her, because he shot her a warning look. Unbelievable.

Through the tinted window, she watched the two uniformed cops exchange words with the couple. Amy looked worried, but Courtney doubted it was because of Devon. More likely, she didn't want her boyfriend going downtown.

Courtney watched Will's back. She thought about those broad shoulders and how they'd felt under her hands last night. And she thought about how unlikely it was that the 911 operator would dispatch a homicide detective to a domestic disturbance. He'd been on his way over. Courtney's heart rate took another leap.

Finally, the officers led the boyfriend to the police car while Amy looked on, wringing her hands. One of the cops returned to Amy with a clipboard and pen.

Will slid behind the wheel of the Taurus.

"What's happening?" she demanded.

He started the engine without a word.

"Will? What's going on?"

He turned to face her and shook his head. "Are you trying to get arrested?"

Her jaw dropped.

"Do yourself a favor. Don't talk until we get to the station."

"You're taking me in?"

Instead of answering, he thrust the car in gear.

"Will? What the hell? That guy assaulted me, and Devon, and probably his mom, too!"

The car lurched forward as he met her gaze in the rearview mirror. "So what, the guy's dangerous, so you decide to pick a fight with him?"

"I didn't pick a fight! He stole my purse and knocked me down!"

He shook his head and muttered something.

"What?"

"Jesus, put a lid on it, would you?"

Courtney crossed her arms and glared at him in the mirror. "This is messed up, you know that? Our whole freaking legal system is pathetic."

He glared back at her but didn't say anything.

"I'm going to file harassment charges. Against APD."

He didn't respond.

"You'll be named first in the lawsuit."

"Courtney."

"What?"

"You've got enough trouble already. Do yourself a favor and just stop talking."

Will didn't get this girl. She was smack-dab in the middle of a homicide investigation, and yet all she could talk about was her neighbor's boyfriend.

"I said I'd see to it," Will told her as he ushered her into the interview room. He pulled out a chair for her, but she didn't sit.

"I mean it." She pointed a shiny red fingernail at his chest. "This better not fall through the cracks. If I see that dickhead around my house again, I'm calling the cops."

"I am the cops."

She muttered something that was probably an insult and sank her butt into the chair. Finally.

"I've got evidence," she went on. "I've got pictures, and you guys damn sure better do something with them."

Will flattened his palm on the table and gazed down at her. "Has it occurred to you that I didn't bring you here to talk about your neighbor? You're here about Alvin."

Her expression changed, but she pretended to shrug it off. "What do you want to know? I've already told you everything I remember."

Nathan was right. She lied like a rug. She'd been lying to him from the moment she first opened her mouth until she'd kissed him last night. And she was still doing it.

"I'm required to remind you that you can choose to have a lawyer present."

She crossed her legs and tipped her head to the side. "I'm not a big fan of lawyers."

"I'm advising you of your right to an attorney."

"Look," she said, glancing at her watch. "You've already made me late for work. Can we speed this along?"

He pulled out his tape recorder, activated it, and plunked it on the table. "Fine."

The door opened, and Cernak strolled in. Perfect. Will's new boss had been watching the interview on closed-circuit television. He'd probably just about had a heart attack watching Will encourage their suspect to lawyer up.

"Lieutenant Don Cernak," he said, reaching for Courtney's hand.

She took it. "Courtney Glass," she said coolly.

Cernak settled into a chair across from her and looked at Will. "Don't let me interrupt."

Will cleared his throat. "Miss Glass, I have a few more questions related to our investigation."

She raised her eyebrow at the formal tone. "Ask away, Detective."

"Have you ever owned a gun?"

"Yes."

"And when did you purchase it?"

Her ankle started to bounce. "I don't remember exactly."

"Try to estimate."

More bouncing. "Last summer, maybe? August, I think."

"Where did you purchase the weapon?"

"A sporting goods store off I-35. I forget the name."

He eyed her ankle, and she stopped moving it.