Brandishing a Crown

“You can distinguish the make of the automobile by these impressions?” he asked.

Jane nodded. “If we look at the tread and wear, we can match them to a particular tire. There are databases that list which tires are installed from the factory on specific vehicles. And if there’s a hole or cut in the tire, that makes it even more unique.”

Stefan nodded, impressed.

“Let me get my supplies,” she said.

He watched as she spoke with the sheriff, then rushed to the crime lab van. Seconds later, she returned with a camera and supplies. She took photographs of each tire track at a ninety-degree angle, then from various angles, then measured the width and the circumference of the wheels as well as the distance between the front of the tires and the rear tires.

She also knelt and collected samples of the rubber left on the asphalt and dirt and bagged it to transport to the lab.

Stefan noted the meticulous way she handled each piece of evidence, logging it into an evidence log to ensure proper treatment.

There were also shoe prints on the dirt by the second car. She measured and cast those as well.

Finally, she stood and returned to him, looking up at him beneath the brim of her hat. “We need to take a sample of your foot impressions.”

He gaped at her, anger rising. “You cannot honestly believe that I had something to do with this bomb.” It was a statement, not a question.

Jane gave him a sardonic smile. “You tell me. You were here within minutes of the crime. You refuse to be open with me. You’ve asked me to cover up anything I find from the press. I know that you recognize that cell phone.” She sighed. “And you are a bomb expert. Do the math.”

“There is no math to be done,” he said, his voice hardening. “I am Prince of Kyros, here to make peace deals with your country and the limo my friends and I rode in earlier was blown up. I explained my reasons and you must accept them.”

Jane planted her hands on her hips, her expression defiant. “I don’t care who you are. I’m a crime scene investigator, and I’m going to find out what happened here. And whoever is involved is going to answer for this crime.”

Stefan’s cheeks burned. Edilio glanced up in concern from the car where he stood, and Jane’s superior, Osgood, did the same. Furious, Stefan jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from shaking the insufferable woman and finding himself handcuffed by the local law like a common criminal.

Osgood strolled over, scratching at his arm where it appeared a rash lingered. “Something wrong?”

“I just explained that we’ll need to take the prince’s foot impressions.” Jane smiled tightly. “For elimination purposes, of course.”

Stefan’s gaze met hers. He saw the challenge. But heat rippled through the air, a charged tension that made his body burn with desire.

Edilio approached, his temper flaring in his eyes, and the reporter hovering on the scene started toward them.

Sheriff Wolf caught the reporter, though, before he could snap a photo.

“You insult the Prince, Miss,” Edilio said in a harsh voice. “That is not acceptable. You must apologize.”

Stefan raised a hand to warn Edilio to calm down. The last thing he wanted was to cause an incident with the local police. Or for this reporter to capture it. “No need for apologies, Edilio. Let Miss Cameron follow her protocol.”

He gave Jane a seductive smile. “Take my prints, Jane. You will only prove that you are wrong about me. That even if you have a problem with me because I am a prince, that I am an honorable man, one you can trust.”

THE SUBTLE INNUENDO in Stefan’s voice sent a quiver up Jane’s spine. She didn’t really believe that the prince had anything to do with the bombing, and she had no idea why she’d baited him, but his presence totally unnerved her.

“I do not have a problem with you because you are a prince,” Jane lied.

Rather because he was a man.

She didn’t trust any man, especially a royal who could have any woman on any continent he desired. A man with wealth and power and people heeding his every beck and call.

She wanted him gone. Away from her so she could breathe normally again. So her fingers would stop sweating and her heart racing, and her mind would stop straying to dangerous avenues.

Like wondering what he thought about her. If he liked what he saw. If his hands were as sensual as they looked. And what it would feel like if he actually touched her with that sultry mouth.

Good grief. She was a moron to even think such nonsense.

“I’ll need your shoes,” Jane said.

“I will follow you to your lab and you may have them there,” the prince said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Fine.” Jane grabbed the evidence box to transport to the lab, and strode toward her vehicle, but just as she crossed through the crime scene tape, the reporter shoved a microphone in her face.

“Can you tell us what you found? Who was in the car?”

Jane shook her head. “The department will issue a statement once the evidence has been processed and the victim identified. Now, please move, so I can do my job.”

Stefan smiled as she elbowed her way past the leech. It had irritated him when she had used that tone on him, but amused him now.

“Prince Stefan,” Edilio said. “Are you certain you want to cooperate with this woman?”

Stefan shrugged. “I think she will be useful in giving us information.”

“Such a crass female,” Edilio said. “I cannot fathom why some American women dress and talk like men.”

Stefan’s mouth quirked. Crass was not the word he would have chosen. Intriguing, sexy, smart. Not the type of woman he was accustomed to, but he would meet her challenge.

Still, responding to Edilio would only invite questions, so he refrained from comment.

Edilio drove and he tried to tame his libido as they followed Jane to the lab, parked and went inside. The crime lab was located in the brick courthouse in Dumont on the second floor and consisted of several offices and laboratories. Jane catalogued the evidence into their filing system, then settled at a workspace. With the late night hour, the lab was virtually empty, the halls reeking of pungent odors and chemicals.

“Find us some coffee,” Prince Stefan said. “I will phone Efraim and update him.”

Edilio nodded, then walked down the hall, and Stefan stepped into an empty corridor across from Jane’s lab to phone his friends.

“The driver was killed,” he told Efraim. “And there was blood in the backseat, but Amir was not inside.”

“Then he could have crawled away after the explosion, and he still may be alive.”

“It is possible,” Stefan said. “But Amir’s cell phone was discovered at the scene in the bushes. And there were tire tracks from a second car.”

Efraim grunted. “There was a witness?”

“Either that or the second vehicle belonged to the bomber. If he saw that Amir was still alive, he could have kidnapped him.”

Efraim cursed. “We must not let this information become known. Not until we discover the truth.”

“I agree.”