“Sure as hell sounded like an insult to me,” he growled.
“All I meant was that I’ve seen it before,” the detective explained. “With my brother.”
A shadow fell over the detective at the mention of his sibling, and for the first time since arriving on scene, the guy showed some actual,realemotion.
“He serve?”
“Four tours.” Knox gave a nod. “Marines.”
Four tours were a lot for anyone, soldier or SEAL. Archer knew this better than most. And, thanks to Lucky’s cursory research into the man standing before him, he already knew all about Knox and his brother.
But he chose to play dumb…for now.
“I’m guessing things didn’t end well for your brother.”
Knox’s throat worked as a frown dropped his brows into a low V. “Matty, he uh…he was never the same after he got out.He’d do good for a while, and then out of the blue, he’d call me convinced his neighbors were terrorists and the pizza delivery guy was a spy.”
Archer’s chest tightened at the all-too-familiar story. “He ever get any help?”
Connecting on a more personal level with the man in charge of Cassie’s case would hopefully help in his effort to bring the other man over to their side. Hopefully.
He sees the same things you see.
Yeah, Archer’s gut said the guy sure as hell did. But for some reason, Detective Knox was refusing to acknowledge the fact that Cassie could be in actual danger.
Continuing the conversation, he asked, “Your brother ever get help after he got out?”
“A few times,” Knox confirmed. “But all the therapy, pills, support groups…” The other man shook his head. “They’d help for a while, but none of it ever really stuck. Matty fixed that, though.” The shadow crossing over Knox’s face deepened. “Asshole drove himself out to the county reservoir back where we grew up. Parked his truck, got out his old service pistol, and made sure the ghosts haunting him never came back again.”
Despite having previous knowledge of what the man had just shared, hearing it from the deceased soldier’s brother—seeing the pain still very much present in Knox’s haunted eyes—made the weight of the loss exponentially greater.
“I’m sorry,” Archer offered sincerely.
The two men shared a look only those with intimate knowledge of that same type of sad, senseless story possessed. Waiting a beat, he decided it was time as any to bring the conversation back full circle.
“I know you think Cassie killed her husband, Detective. And I’m sure you probably think my team and I are just out here, grasping at straws. But if you researched us the way I’m guessingyou did, then you know we aren’t some sort of fly-by-night P.I. firm looking to make a quick buck. We take cases we believe in based on the evidence presented to us, but we also follow our instincts. And when it comes to your work, I’m willing to bet you do the same.” Archer held the man’s gaze. “I know what the evidence says, but I’m telling you…Cassie had nothing to do with Russell Montgomery’s death.”
The same flash from earlier returned, and this time Archer knew—heknew—the other man thought the same damn thing. But before he could call Knox out on it, a man’s raised voice tore through the tense air.
Both men turned to see a uniformed officer standing several feet away from the porch, but appeared to have begun speaking louder so the tech taking pictures of the damage could hear him.
Knox blinked, his focus returning to Archer. And just like that, those walls were almost fully back in place.
With his gaze having turned laser-focused, the other man almost looked as if he were trying to get Archer to read between the lines as he said, “I can’t go to the D.A. and request he drop the charges against Mrs. Montgomery based solely on your gut feeling, Mr. Nash. So unless your team has actual proof that your client is innocent of the charges that have been brought against her…”
“It’s Archer, and no.” He gave a curt shake of his head. “We don’t have any proof…yet. But rest assured, my team and Iwilluncover the truth.”
With or without your help.
Sliding a sideways glance around at the others in attendance, Knox sidestepped him as if he were about to leave.
Just as the two men became shoulder-to-shoulder, Archer told the uncaring prick, “She’s an intelligent woman, Knox.”
Much to his surprise, the confounding detective humored him by stopping a few feet later and turning back around. “Inever doubted her intelligence, Archer. In fact, it was one of the things that drew me to your client as a suspect in the first place. You know, other than the fact that the victim died after drinking a bottle filled with poisoned wine your girlfriend gave him.”
Archer shot the man an incredulous look. “See, what you said right there? That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” Knox sauntered back his way. “The wife calls nine-one one, frantic because her husband—a man she’d been fighting tooth and nail for over a year to divorce, mind you—had suddenly collapsed in her kitchen. She allegedly performs CPR until the medics arrive, but by then it was too late. Granted the whole ‘it wasn’t mine’ defense where the poison is concernedispretty weak. I mean…” He huffed out a sarcastic chuckle. “Who’s stupid enough to poison a guy in their own home with their own bottle of wine, and then admit to the cops they gave the dead guy the wine, right?”