Her Last Whisper
“Michael straightened away from the wall, his eyes on her face. “Whatever it says don’t change a thing for me now.”
“It says,” Charlie told him with precision, “that you’re guilty as hell. Your DNA was all over those women. All of them, not just Candace Hartnell.”
Of his seven alleged victims, he’d admitted to sleeping with the last one, Candace Hartnell. The others he’d claimed to have never laid eyes on. Problem was, DNA doesn’t work like that.
“Crappy lab,” Michael said without much apparent interest.
Charlie waited. That was it: nothing else. Nada. Zip.
“Nope.” Charlie shook her head. “Not a crappy lab. The best in the business. Want to try a different answer?”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want me to say? That I’m guilty? Fine. I’m guilty. Feel better?”
Charlie felt her temper heating. If she’d been wrong about him—the thought made her sick. It made her question her intuition. It made her question her judgment. It made her question—everything.
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