Page 43 of Ice Covered Heart

“Nate is a good-looking guy,” Rochelle said, shrugging one shoulder as she mopped. “The fact that he killed six women doesn’t seem to turn off some people. They think he has that bad boy charm. Or…” She stared straight at Shelby. “That he’s innocent.”

“Like her professor,” Hunter noted, voice flat.

“Yeah, like him.” A long sigh. Then, “What can I get you?”

Shelby wanted nothing. Her appetite was long gone.

“Two burgers,” Hunter replied. “Fries. Water.”

“On it.” Rochelle turned away.

But while Shelby slid back into the booth, hunching her shoulders and wondering just how many people listened to Tiffany’s podcast and how many people would be seeing the video she’d made on her phone, Hunter continued to stand. His attention seemed to be on Rochelle. “Excuse me,” he called.

She paused near the counter, glancing back.

“I have to ask. Do you happen to be one of the people in this town that thinks Nate is innocent?” A polite question from Hunter.

“Hell, no. That man is guilty as sin.”

“Really.” Hunter cocked his head toward her. “And why do you think that? You know, other than the fact that the man was found at the scene, with the victims’ blood on him, with the murder weapon close by, oh, and let’s not forget that he stabbed a cop.”

A grim smile curved Rochelle’s lips. “All that makes him guilty. But I knew he was bad long before that.”

Shelby’s hands fisted beneath the table. Her nails bit into her palms. “Why?” she asked.

“Because I caught him beating the crap out of one of my waiters. That was weeks before the attack at the Murder House—uh, sorry, at your sorority house. They were out back, and if I hadn’t gone out there to dump some trash, he might have just beat Mika to death. Poor Mika.” A slow shake of her head. Sadness whispered beneath her voice. “All bloody.” Rochelle cleared her throat. “I called that young cop on Nate. The cop took Nate away in his patrol car while I patched up Mika.”

Shock poured through Shelby’s veins. She’d never heard this story. During the trial, there had been no mention of it. Nate had been depicted as an upstanding young man.

The jury hadn’t bought that depiction.

Rochelle headed into the kitchen. Shelby heard her giving orders to the cook.

The bell over the main door jingled. Shelby’s head jerked toward the sound. A family strolled in. Two laughing kids. A dad in a baseball cap. A mom with long, braided hair.

Hunter eased back into the booth. “You didn’t know that Nate had been violent before.”

Her hands were still fisted beneath the table. “No.”

“If he was violent with this Mika guy, there could certainly have been other instances.”

He might have just beat Mika to death. Shelby kept hearing Rochelle’s words in her head.

“I’d sure like to know why Nate Shiloh decided to beat the hell out of a waiter.” Hunter flattened his hands on the table top. “I’d also like to know which cop came to see him, and why the hell that cop didn’t pass that info on to the prosecutors on your case.”

Rochelle bustled out of the kitchen. “Be right with you,” she told the family. “Sit anywhere you want. Oh, and I do recommend that you try our world famous milkshakes. They are to die for.” She carried a fresh tray. More waters. She brought them to the back booth.

Nothing shattered. She put one glass in front of Shelby. One in front of Hunter.

“Thanks.” Hunter watched Rochelle with his intent gaze. “Uh, one more question?”

She raised her brows.

“Just which ‘young cop’ was it that you called on Nate when he was fighting that waiter?”

“Well, it was Jonah. Jonah Campbell.”

Shelby’s mouth dropped open.