Daniel’s eyes flicked toward me then, sharp, calculating, and suddenly very interested in who I was and what I might have seen.
And in that single look, I realized something that turned my blood to ice.
The wrong person was wearing the handcuffs.
I stepped forward before I could stop myself.
“Detective, wait. You need to see something first.”
He turned, frowning. “Sir, please step back.”
“My name’s David. I live right there.” I pointed. “I have security footage you need to see before you put those handcuffs on her.”
Daniel’s smug expression cracked. “Officer, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. My mother is sick—”
“Then explain why you’ve been sneaking into her yard at night for the past three weeks,” I said, holding up my phone.
Detective Ramirez stepped closer. “Show me.”
