Read Take the Key and Lock Her Up for Free Online Page B

Disney World. But she didn’t see the point in
     telling him that right now.
    “First question: Why do you call your father ‘Alex’?”
    “What does that have to do with Carolyn’s murder?”
    “Second question: Why do you call your mother ‘Carolyn’?”
    He laughed but didn’t sound amused. “Touché.”
    He steered the truck around a rut in the road, making Emily grab the armrest again.
     “Those were serious questions. I need background on the victim . . . I mean, on your
     mother.” When he didn’t seem inclined to answer, she leaned forward, catching his
     attention. “Mr. Buchanan, why do you call your mother and father by their first names?
     Are you adopted?”
    He seemed to weigh her question, as if deciding the pros and cons of answering, just
     like he’d done back in the cell. “I call them by their first names because my older
     brothers always have and I grew up hearing that. As for whether I’m adopted, the answer
     is complicated.”
    “You’re either adopted or you aren’t. How is that complicated?” She pulled her cell
     phone out of her pocket. She would rather have had a notebook and pen, but those were
     in her purse, which was in her car at the murder scene. She opened up a note-taking
     app and waited for his response.
    “Technically, my two older brothers and I were adopted. But it’s more accurate to
     say we were . . . inherited. Alex and Carolyn had twins together—my younger brothers,
     Matt, then Austin who has the distinction of being the baby of the family by less
     than one minute. The rest of us were passed along to Alex through Carolyn’s previous
     marriages.”
    She blinked. “Inherited? Passed along?”
    He blew out an exasperated breath. “How exactly is this supposed to help you find
     that missing woman?”
    “Even the smallest detail might prove useful in helping us figure out how your mother
     caught the suspect’s attention. I need to retrace her last steps.”
    “ Carolyn left Alex twenty-one years ago, divorced him when I was thirteen. Unless she was
     in that basement for a couple of decades, I don’t see how anything I tell you is going
     to be useful.”
    His statement had Emily shifting uncomfortably on the bench seat and pretending sudden
     fascination with the notes on her phone.
    The silence in the cab stretched out. She risked a quick peek at him.
    He was staring at her, his eyes narrowed, searching. Eyes that she’d thought were
     a dark brown earlier but that she now realized were actually dark gray. Not that it
     mattered. It was her job to notice details like that. In case she had to describe
     him later.
    His gaze flicked to the road, then back to her several more times. His jaw tightened,
     as if he’d just come to some kind of decision. He slammed on the brakes, bringing
     the truck to a skidding halt, sending another cloud of dust flying up from the road.
    Emily gasped as the seat belt locked against her chest. It took several seconds for
     her to forcibly uncurl her fingers from the armrest. The leather would probably bear
     permanent marks from her nails, but she didn’t feel a bit guilty over that. She wasn’t the one who drove like a freaking maniac.
    The maniac in question flung off his seat belt and swiveled to face her. “You know something,” he snapped. “What did the coroner tell you?”
    She unclicked her belt too, so she could face him, and subtly look over her shoulder.
    “We’re miles ahead of him.” His words were clipped, impatient. “Tuck isn’t going to
     save you from answering my questions. Spill. Now.”
    He crowded her against the passenger door.
    Suddenly his hand clamped around her right wrist and he leaned down, his face inches
     from hers, his eyes as dark as a thundercloud. “Were you seriously going to try to
     shoot me again?”
    “What?” Her breath left her in a surprised rush when she saw the gun in her hand.
     She didn’t even remember reaching for it.
    He snatched the gun, popped