“I just want to check your eyes,” he said. “They seem fine.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
“I just don’t want you passing out again,” Finn said. “No need to get your panties in a bunch. I’m not hitting on you.”
Emma scowled. “I already said I was sorry about that.”
“I know,” Finn shot back. “Maybe I like seeing you suffer.”
The jab hit Emma square in the gut, but she brushed it off. “You wouldn’t be the first man who liked that.”
Finn bit his lower lip. “Why don’t you sit down?”
“Why?”
Finn pointed to the door at the far end of the room, which was currently filling with police officers. “Because they’re going to want to talk to both of us.”
Emma sighed. “Great.”
TALKING to law enforcement had never been one of Finn’s favorite tasks. After an hour chatting with St. Clair Shores’ finest – he felt like he was on the edge of a cliff, and he was ready to jump.
“I don’t know how many different ways I can tell you what happened,” Finn explained to the officer questioning him. “It’s not going to change.”
“I guess I’m just trying to understand what drew your attention to the man.”
“He was acting strange.”
“Strange?”
“He just didn’t look like he belonged,” Finn said.
“You’re part of Hardy Brothers Security, right?”
Finn bristled. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing. I’m just curious.”
“I am.”
“Are you the one who saved the clerk or the reporter?”
“Neither,” Finn said. “Those were my brothers.”
“And how do you know Ms. Pritchard here?”
“I was running security for Madison’s Marina. She was the model they hired for the day. I don’t really know her. We just met this afternoon.”
The officer shifted his gaze to Emma, looking her up and down with predatory eyes. “She’s not hard to look at. It must have been a nice afternoon.”
Finn didn’t like the look. “She’s a person, not a thing.”
The officer rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Am I done?”
“Yeah, you can go.”
Even though the Madisons had collected the diamond and taken it home for the night, Finn lingered. Another officer a few feet away was still questioning Emma, and she didn’t look happy. Finn found himself heading in her direction.
“And you have no idea why someone would want to harm you?”
Emma sighed, shaking her head. “I told you. I have never seen him before. I didn’t get a very good look at him. It all happened really fast.”
The cop glanced down at the notebook. “And you’re Lance Pritchard’s daughter, right?”
Emma visibly stiffened. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Finn didn’t move from his spot, sensing the police officer had hit a nerve.
“Well, your father is one of those most notorious criminals Macomb County has ever seen,” the cop prodded.
“That’s my father, not me.”
Finn furrowed his brow, wracking his brain. Lance Pritchard. Why did he know that name?
“Your father left a list of victims a mile long,” the officer said. “Maybe your assailant was one of his victims.”
Finn took a step forward. “Who is your father?”
Emma squared her shoulders when she heard Finn’s voice. “You haven’t heard of Lance Pritchard? The man who molested fifty boys in ten years? Come on. That must ring a bell.” Her voice was hollow.
Long ago news coverage niggled the back of Finn’s brain. He had heard the story. Lance Pritchard was a piano teacher who lived in Eastpointe, offering “free lessons” to underprivileged boys for years. He was revered as a hero in his rundown neighborhood until his very public arrest.
Then, when the truth started coming out in a trickle, it didn’t stop until it was a raging waterfall. By the time everything was settled, Pritchard had been convicted on more than a hundred and fifty criminal sexual conduct charges and sentenced to life in prison. It had been big news about four years before.
“You can understand why I think that one of your father’s victims would be responsible for an attack on you,” the police officer said.
Finn felt a rush of anger course through him. “You’re treating her like this is her fault,” he said. “She was the victim here.
The cop fixed Finn with unreadable eyes. “And you are?”
“Finn Hardy,” Finn said. “I was running security when it happened.”