The thought had barely formed when he was interrupted by a text hitting his cell phone. It was from Ash. He wanted to see Jax, but he didn’t want to leave Remi on her own. Jax sent back a text promising to send a patrol car to keep watch on the neighborhood and telling his brother to meet him at the station.
Once he’d arranged for Remi’s protection, he returned his attention to the papers spread in front of him. Oliver had been right. The markings and abbreviations made no sense. At least not to him.
Lost in thought, Jax muttered a curse when he heard approaching footsteps. Swiftly, he was grabbing the pages and shoving them back into the folder.
“Hey, bro.” The familiar voice had Jax releasing a sigh of relief as he watched Ash step around the partition.
A wave of warmth crashed through Jax. God, he’d missed his brother. There’d been something incredibly right about entering the squad room to see Ash at his desk. Or hitting the basketball court to shoot hoops after one of them had a bad day. Or spending the weekend at the lake pretending to fish . . .
He swallowed a sigh. Ash had to do what made him happy. Even if it left an aching void in Jax’s life.
“You’re up early,” Jax said, noting the tense lines of his brother’s face. Clearly, he hadn’t spent a relaxing night in Remi’s arms.
A damned shame.
“Not as early as you.” Ash did his own bit of inspecting, his gaze lingering on the dark circles beneath Jax’s eyes. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Enough.” Jax shrugged away his brother’s concern. “You said you had something for me to see?”
Ash reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a folded paper bag. He tossed it on Jax’s desk.
“This was shoved under Remi’s front door while we were out yesterday morning.”
Curious, Jax opened the bag and glanced at the torn sheet of paper with a scribbled note on it.
I need to see you.
He glanced back up at Ash. “There’s not much to go on,” he said. “It could have come from anyone.”
Ash nodded. “Yeah. I’m probably overreacting, but I hoped you would run the prints.”
Jax closed the bag and opened a drawer to drop it inside. He was doubtful that the Butcher would start requesting appointments with his potential victims by sticking notes under their doors, but he was willing to grasp at any straw.
“It will take a while, but I’ll get them in the system,” he promised, folding his arms on the desk and leaning forward. “How’s Remi?”
“Scared, but trying to pretend everything is fine.”
“And you?”
“Scared, but trying to pretend everything is fine.”
Jax grimaced. He wished he could tell them not to worry, but he couldn’t. Not when there was a real possibility that the Butcher was back in town, and that he was focused on Remi.
“We’re going to catch the bastard,” he said instead. “I promise.”
Ash nodded. “I caught sight of the patrol car when I left the house,” he said. “Thanks.”
Jax gave a lift of his shoulders. “No problem. Everyone on the force wants to make sure Remi is kept safe.”
“Let them know I appreciate everything they’re doing.”
“I will.” Jax glanced around, making sure there was no one standing close enough to overhear their conversation. “Tell me what happened last night.”
Ash calmly removed his coat, hanging it on the top corner of the partition. “Last night?” He pretended he didn’t know what Jax was asking. “Let’s see. Remi and I ate some Chinese food. We drank some wine. We went through the old files.” He stopped, giving a sudden snap of his fingers. “Oh. I did uncover a new piece of evidence.”
Jax grudgingly allowed himself to be distracted. “What evidence?”
This time it was Ash who carefully ensured there was no one around. “Robert Hutton lied about his alibi the night that Tiffany Holloway was killed.”
“Robert Hutton? The one who works in the district attorney’s office?”
“Yep.”
Jax hissed in shock. Or maybe it was horror. No detective ever wanted to think about a suspect who might create a media frenzy. Politicians. Business leaders. Fellow cops. Members of the clergy. Whether the person was guilty or innocent, it always ended badly for the detective.
“Where did he claim to be?” Jax demanded. He hadn’t gone through the old Butcher files. Not yet.
“Meeting with Remi’s mother at her estate.”
Jax studied his brother’s face, waiting to see if this was some sick joke. “Seriously?” he finally demanded.
Ash nodded. “Which was why we didn’t go any further with the investigation despite the fact he had phone calls from the victim.” He reached for his coat, pulling out a sheet of paper that had been carefully folded and tucked in an inner pocket. He placed it on the desk. “I think he needs a second glance.”
Jax unfolded the paper and quickly skimmed through the short interview. Robert had said he’d spent the evening having dinner with Liza Harding-Walsh at her estate to plan a fancy ball for his charity. He then claimed he drove to his town house at ten o’clock and spent two hours going through case notes for an upcoming trial before he went to bed.
Jax glanced back up at his brother. “No one talked to Remi’s mother?”
“I didn’t.” Ash released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know about Gage. He never said anything about Hutton after our initial interview.”
Jax made a mental note to go through Gage’s files to see if he had any official interview with his wife. For now, he concentrated on why Ash was convinced the alibi was bogus. “What makes you assume Hutton lied?”
“Remi was sick that night and returned home early from a study group,” Ash said. “Neither her mother nor Hutton were there.”
Jax didn’t ask if Remi was certain it was the same night. It was a question Ash would have asked. “Could they have moved the meeting?”
“Possibly, but I’d like to know why he specifically said he was at the estate the entire evening.”
Jax grimaced. Damn. There was no getting around it. He was going to have to get a new statement from Hutton. “So would I,” he said.
Ash stepped toward the desk. “I want to go with you when you question him.”
Jax snorted. Had his brother lost his mind? “No way.”
Predictably, Ash refused to accept Jax’s refusal. All the Marcel boys were stubborn, but Ash had an extra dose of pigheadedness.
“Look, if you make it an official visit, you’re going to cause a shitstorm,” Ash said with a smooth logic. “If the two of us happen to stop by the country club for a casual drink and run into the man . . .” The younger man shrugged. “He can’t protest.”
“He also won’t be forced to answer our questions,” Jax reminded his brother. “Plus, if he does become a suspect, he’ll have ample opportunity to create a new lie to cover his ass before I can haul him into the station.”
“He’s going to lawyer up anyway,” Ash insisted. “If we approach him casually, we can catch him off guard. He’ll be more likely to give something away.”