Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Finally, Lucy seemed to realize her options were limited and their protection was her best hope of staying alive.
She wiped her face on her sleeve and reached for the notebook.
After she finished writing and pushed it across the table, Sam tore off the page and handed it to Gonzo. He took it and left the room.
“I want you to tell me everything, from the first second you met him until the last time you saw him. Leave nothing out.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” When she hesitated, Sam said, “Shall we do this downtown?”
“N-no.” Lucy glanced at Sam tentatively. “You want to know all this because you’re his ex-wife, right?”
“Hardly. I couldn’t care less who he dated or who he fucked or anything else he did. I want to know who murdered him.”
“He hated you.”
Sam laughed. “Is that what he told you?”
She nodded.
“He hated me so much that he followed me around for years after we split. He hated me so much that when I started seeing someone else, he tried to blow up both our cars. He hated me so much that the night before my wedding he attacked me outside my home, pulling a gun on me, all so he could tell me our relationship would never be over. That’s the guy you were tied up with, so in reality, you may have dodged a bullet. ”
Lucy swallowed convulsively. “He couldn’t have done those things. If he had, he would’ve been in prison.”
“He got off on a technicality. Our bad. But he did do it. His prints were all over the bombs.” Sam gave her a moment to absorb that info. “Start from the beginning.”
“We…we met here. He started about three months after me, and they asked me to train him. I liked him right away. He was funny and sweet. After the first week, he said he owed me dinner to thank me for showing him the ropes. I reminded him that associates aren’t allowed to date.
He said it wasn’t a date, and I felt stupid, like I’d read him wrong or something.
Then he winked to tell me I hadn’t been wrong.
He had been asking me out. I knew I shouldn’t go, but I liked him.
I liked him more than I’d liked any guy in a long time. ”
Sam’s gut churned with bitter memories of that guy, the smooth-talking charmer who’d pretended to be her friend while he kept the love of her life from getting in touch with her.
“We went to dinner that night and started hanging out after work a lot. It was pretty casual at first, but after a couple of weeks I could tell he wanted more. By then I was having pretty strong feelings for him, and it was getting harder to hide that at work. I was hesitant, but he was very persuasive.”
Sure he was, Sam thought. He wanted to get laid.
“We…we had sex for the first time about three weeks after he started here, and after that we spent most nights together, except when he was out with his friends. They had poker and games they went to.”
Sam took notes as Lucy told the story. “Where did you spend the night? His place or yours?”
“Usually his. I have a roommate and he didn’t. We had more privacy at his place.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“We went out for dinner last Tuesday night after work, and he said he had some friends in town last week and weekend and would be tied up until Sunday night. He was going to call me Sunday, but I never heard from him. Then he didn’t show up to work on Monday, and I started to worry.
I kept calling him, but he didn’t answer. ”
“Did you go over there to check on him?”
“I was going to after work, but then we heard he’d been found dead.”
“How did you hear that?”
“One of the other guys we work with called to tell us.”
“Which guy?”
“Phil Kent. He works nights.”
“Did he say how he heard about it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him. Kenny did. He’s the guy who brought you back here.”
Sam made a note. “I’d like to see your phone and the texts you exchanged with Peter the last few days before he died.”
“That’s private.”
“I can get a warrant if you’d like.”
Lucy bit her lip as she thought it over.
Then she took her phone out of her pocket and tapped on the screen before handing it over to Sam, who scrolled through the messages she’d exchanged with Peter, most of them logistics about where they were meeting for dinner.
Wednesday morning he’d texted to thank Lucy for a great night.
I’m still thinking about that thing you did with your tongue, he’d written.
Lucy had responded with a winking emoji, and that was the last contact she’d had with him by text.
Sam pushed the phone back across the table. “You’re going to want to shut that down so no one can track you while you’re in protective custody.”
“Is that necessary?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who said you were afraid of the guys Peter hung out with. Do you feel the need to be protected if you’re the one who sends the cops to them?”
“Y-yes, probably.”
“Do you know what he was into with them?”
“H-he said he was doing a job for a friend that would make him a lot of money. He wanted to take me on a nice vacation. Maybe to the Caribbean.”
“Did he say what kind of job it was?”
She shook her head. “I asked, but he wouldn’t tell me. He said it was better that I not know, but he promised it was safe and legal.”
Sam’s phone rang, and she took it from her pocket to check the caller ID. Lilia. She declined the call and put it back in her pocket. “Did he say anything else about what he was up to? Anything at all?”
Lucy shook her head.
Sam’s phone chimed with a text. Sighing, she retrieved the phone again and saw a text from Lilia. Call me. 911.
Fuck. What now? “Excuse me for a minute. I have to make a call.” She stepped outside the room to return Lilia’s call.
“Thank goodness you called,” Lilia said, sounding unusually frazzled.
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve gotten word that another interview is about to be published about your family, this one focusing on you.”
“What the hell?”
“Apparently, before he died, your ex-husband gave a tell-all interview that’s going to be published on . From what we’re being told, it’s very revealing and potentially damaging.”