19. Thea
THEA
“Can you tell us what your relationship was with the deceased?” the detective asks.
“He was my stepfather.”
At least that’s what Emmy called him. I preferred “that bastard Bill.”
“He was the husband of your stepmother, Emelia.”
“That’s correct.”
“Were you with your stepfather the night he died?”
“I was in bed. He and Emmy had a big fight so I went to my room early and closed the door to block out the shouting.”
“Had he been drinking?”
“He always drinks. He says—said—it helps him focus.”
The detective writes in his notebook. “Okay. Did he often fight with your stepmother when he was drinking?”
“I guess so. I never thought much of it. It usually wasn’t an issue.”
“But this means you were one of the last people to see him alive.”
I swallow. “As far as I know.”
“Had he been acting out of the ordinary?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“Right.” The detective looks over his notes. “Would you describe your relationship with your stepfather as positive?”
I frown. “Positive in what way?”
“Were you happy that your stepmother married him?”
I cross my arms. “I was happy there was someone else to help around the farm. Emmy and I were in pretty bad shape when Bill came along.”
“Did you and Bill get along?”
I draw in a breath.
No. We didn’t get along at all.
As abusive as Emmy got after Daddy died, it was nothing compared to what I dealt with at my stepfather’s hands.
But when a man dies under uncertain circumstances, you don’t dredge that shit up.
Because it makes you look suspicious.
I’ve watched enough reruns of Law and Order to know the best move is to keep my mouth shut.
“Yes, we did. We fought sometimes, but the normal amount.”
“What did you fight about?”
“Chores. Doing homework. What to watch on TV, that sort of thing.”
“But nothing serious?”
Another slow breath. “No. Nothing serious.”
“How did you feel when you found out he had died?”
Fucking overjoyed. Glad the planet wouldn’t have to waste one more atom of oxygen on his worthless, abusive existence.
“I’m…devastated.” I fake a sniffle and dab a tissue in the corner of a bone-dry eye.
“I’m sorry…what?” I ask.
“I don’t feel comfortable discussing any more details with you here, ma’am,” Officer King says. “I’ll need you to come with me in private.”
“Am I being arrested?” I ask.
“Of course not. We just have a few questions.”
Aus stands up. “I’m coming with her.”
Officer King shakes her head. “I’m afraid I need Ms. Storm to come alone. We’re only going to take her to a private room in the manor. We won’t be long. She’ll be back in time for the next course.”
I draw in a deep breath to ease my panicking heart.
This is Bill all over again.
Except it isn’t.
Someone is dead. They clearly think I’m connected to it.
“Thea, don’t say anything without a lawyer,” Aus warns.
“I’ll be fine,” I say.
I will be.
I’ve done this before.
And this time I have nothing to hide.
I haven’t hurt anyone.
I grab my purse, stand, and give Aus a kiss on the cheek. “I promise, I’ll be fine.” I turn toward the cops. “Where are we going?”
“Just a private room in the back,” Officer King says. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay,” I say. “Because I don’t want to leave my date waiting.”
Officer King and the other two lead me into a separate room.
It’s small with a musty smell hanging in the air.
An ancient mahogany desk sits at the room’s center, with a cushy leather office chair in front of it and three bookshelves behind it.
The desk is littered with old paperwork and sticky notes, and two more chairs sit across from it.
“You can sit in the leather chair,” Officer King says. “I’ll sit across from you.”
“Okay.” I slowly sink into the soft leather chair. It would be quite comfortable if things weren’t so tense.
“All right.” Officer King takes out a small notebook and flips a few pages. “Are you acquainted with a man named Kinsey Blackwood?”
“Kinsey Blackwood?”
“He also goes by Kin.”
I blink a few times. Kin? The bartender of the East section at Jade Sanctum? Why the hell is this cop asking about him?
“I’ve met him once. He’s a bartender at a club I went to last night.” I slap my hand against my mouth. “Wait a minute. You said this was a possible homicide. Is he—?”
Officer King nods gravely. “Yes, ma’am. He was found deceased this morning.”
Holy shit. One of Aus’s employees is dead?
“I’m…very sorry to hear that,” I say. “But why are asking me about this? It’s unfortunate that he died, but I barely knew the man.”
“We were questioning his brother, Wickliffe Blackwood, an hour ago. He told us he was with you, and we need you to corroborate that story.”
My heart eases. That’s all they want from me.
Of course, this means my not-affair with Wick will now be documented in a police report, but at least they don’t think I had anything to do with Kinsey’s death.
I let out a sigh. “Yes, I was with Wick last night.”
“The entire night?”
“We met at the Jade Sanctum that evening. My date didn’t show, and Wick talked me up. I had a few drinks, and I guess my judgment was impaired, because I went home with him.”
“With Wick Blackwood?”
“That’s correct.”
Officer King jots some notes down. “And you spent the entire night with him?”
“Well, not with him. We didn’t… We didn’t do anything except make out a little bit.”
“I mean, you spent the entire night in his home?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t leave the house the entire night?”
“Correct.”
“Even though you didn’t pursue a sexual relationship with him?”
I rub at my forehead. “I hardly think that’s important.”
“Why did you stay the night?”
I sigh. “Honestly, I was drunk off my ass. I didn’t think I had that much to drink, but I clearly overdid it.
I wasn’t thinking straight. My phone was dead, so I couldn’t order an Uber until I charged it.
I passed out on the bed before I could wander off.
I did eventually take an Uber, but it wasn’t until this morning. I had to get to work.”
She eyes me. “And you work as a meteorologist for the news.”
“Yes. You can check with them or watch the live broadcast. It’s pretty clear I was there.”
“Of course, ma’am. We’ve already cleared that. A lot of our station watches your channel.”
“Tell them thank you.”
She nods without smiling. “Mr. Blackwood says you slept in a different room than he did. Is that true?”
“Yes. I slept in his bedroom, and he crashed on his couch. He didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable, so he offered me a room with a lock.”
“And you locked the door?”
“Correct.”
“Did you wake up during the night at all? Go into the living room? Leave the house, even for just a minute?”
“Why does that matter?”
Officer King flips her notebook back a few pages.
“Our coroner estimates the murder took place around three in the morning last night. But the thing is, if you slept in a separate room from Mr. Blackwood and were asleep before two or so, you can’t really corroborate that he was with you at the time of the death. ”
I blink. “I mean, I honestly don’t know the guy. He seems decent. Like, when I told him I was no longer interested in sleeping with him, he backed down. He’s kind of a creep, but I didn’t get killer vibes from him.”
Officer King and the two other cops look at me with stony faces. They don’t seem to be buying my story.
I shouldn’t keep talking. Aus was right, I shouldn’t speak without a lawyer present.
But I can’t help myself. The words just come out.
“Maybe you could see if he had a doorbell camera or something?” I ask. “He had one of those smart locks on his door, the kind that uses a code instead of key. Maybe there’s a camera or something? You certainly won’t see me coming and going, and that might clear Wick’s name as well.”
Officer King leans in. “Why are you so interested in clearing the name of a man you barely know?”
Good question. Why am I sticking my neck out for Wick? As far as I know, he is responsible.
Better that the cops think he’s the one who did it than—
“One more question,” Officer King says. “For now, at least.”
“Shoot,” I say.
She looks me up and down, her eyes narrowed. “Can you tell us why you were wearing a pair of tennis shoes this morning that belonged to the deceased?”