Chapter Eight Maia
Chapter Eight
Maia
Icouldn’t get warm. It didn’t matter that Deck had found a blanket to wrap around my shoulders or eventually built a fire in the hearth by the couch; the cold felt like it had made a home in my bones.
All the security on the estate had now assembled around our motley crew in the library, and I heard a half dozen of them whispering about murder.
I shivered again, and Deck wrapped his arm tighter around me. “Do you want me to get you another blanket?” he asked.
I shook my head. Maybe it made me weak, but I didn’t want to lose him—even for a moment. Because everything felt infinitely colder without his arms around me.
As if to punctuate the point, Jackson scowled at us from across the room.
“Keep making that face, and it’s going to freeze that way,” Erik singsonged.
Violet snickered, but Booker outright laughed.
“I like your friends, Mai,” he said with a grin.
“How do you even know her?” Jackson pouted.
Booker narrowed a stare at my ex. “Because, unlike you, she shows up for Deck. Awards banquets, important games . . . she’s there. I probably know her better than I do you, which is a blessing in my eyes.”
“For real,” Erik echoed.
Frederick entered the room as he spoke into a video chat on his phone. But the moment he caught sight of me, wrapped in Deck’s arms, his steps faltered, and his features hardened. He quickly covered it with a blank mask of officiality, but I hadn’t missed it.
“The police would like to speak with you, Maia,” he said in a clipped tone, handing me the phone.
“Of course. Thank you, Frederick.” I took the phone from him, but when my hand trembled, Decker eased the device from my grip.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“I’ve got you, Birdie.”
I looked up at him, so many things continuing to shift into place. “You always have, haven’t you?”
His mouth curved the barest amount, one of those tiny smiles I always coveted because they were so rare. “Finally starting to see.”
“Ms. St. James,” a woman with graying hair greeted from the other side of the call as Deck held the phone up for me. “I’m Detective Silva.”
My gaze snapped back to the phone. “Hi.”
“You’re the one who found the body?” she asked.
“Yes. But I didn’t see anyone or hear anything. It was quiet except for the wind,” I explained, my heart rate picking up speed.
The detective wrote something on a notepad I could only just make out in the corner of the screen. “How loud was the wind?”
My brows pulled together in a frown. “It varied. There were a few moments where it might’ve been loud, but there were times that it was completely silent, too.”
Detective Silva tapped her pen on her desk. “Did you recognize the woman at all?”
“No.”
“Her name was Lucy Carmichael. Ring any bells?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. Should it?”
“Not necessarily. We’re just trying to put the pieces together. No one was with you on the patio?”
I stiffened at the same moment Deck did.
“Am I a suspect?” I squeaked, panic and fear surging through me.
Deck pulled the phone out of my view. “I’m afraid this interview is over. You can speak with Ms. St. James once she has acquired an attorney.”
He held the phone out to Frederick as the detective could be heard arguing on the other end of the line.
“I’m afraid I have to agree. You can’t harass my guests without counsel,” Frederick clipped. “I will attain representation for Maia if she does not have her own.”
That had Deck scowling at the man.
I gripped his knee, panic still racing through me. “Can you do that? Say I won’t talk to them?”
“Yes,” Deck assured me. “I’ve got an attorney here because I have property and some business holdings in Colorado. She should be able to recommend a criminal attorney if you need one.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “They think I killed someone.”
“There’s no way,” Violet assured me.
But Erik looked nervous. “Why aren’t there cameras in a place like this?”
“Because I like my privacy,” Frederick snapped.
A wave of nausea swept through me. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Deck’s hand slid under my hair, and he kneaded my neck. “Have you had anything to eat tonight?”
I frowned up at him.
“No, she hasn’t,” Violet added helpfully. “And she’s been living off the occasional milkshake and cheese puff, thanks to that jackwad.” She inclined her head toward Jackson.
“You need to eat, Birdie. You always feel sick if you don’t eat regularly,” Deck said softly.
“I’ll get her something,” Jackson called like he deserved a medal.
“He’ll probably poison it,” I muttered. “Oh, God. I’m going to hell. I’m making murder jokes when someone just got killed.”
“Birdie, breathe,” Deck coached. “You’re all good.”
“I’ll make sure no poisoning occurs,” Erik said and stood.
Booker followed. “I’ll provide backup.”
Violet let out a low whistle. “Why do I feel like some dance battle is going to erupt teen movie–style?”
I gaped at my best friend.
“Sorry. I get punchy when I’m nervous, and this is seriously messed up.”
Henry hurried into the room. “I checked the road cams. It’s going to take all night at least for them to clear the snow.”
“Great,” I muttered.
Decker pressed his lips to the top of my head. “We’ll get through it, okay? Just one minute at a time.”
Frederick returned to our little huddle. “My men have covered the body and as much of the crime scene as possible. The rest of the guests have been given rooms at an adjacent estate or my own for the evening, and my staff is gathering clothing for everyone to sleep in.”
“Heck of a slumber party,” Violet muttered and then winced. “Punchy, remember?”
“I got some of the appetizers,” Jackson said, striding back into the room with a heaping plate.
I frowned as I studied it.
“I tried to tell him you hate mushrooms, but he didn’t believe me,” Erik said helpfully.
“They give her migraines,” Deck said, like Jackson was a complete moron. And maybe he was.
Jackson’s face flushed. “How am I supposed to remember every single thing she likes and doesn’t?”
“I can eat the little puff pastry things,” I said before an argument could erupt.
“Here are the rest of your room keys,” Frederick cut in, handing keys to Booker, Jackson, Violet, Erik, and Deck. “Maia, I’m afraid we’re one room short, but you can take mine. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
My stomach roiled. The last thing I wanted to do was stay in Frederick’s bed.
The arm around my shoulders tightened as Deck practically bared his teeth at the man. “Actually, she can stay with me.”