Chapter 3 #2
Luke nods, and the scratching of his pen across the legal pad seems unnaturally loud. I can feel sweat dampening the nape of my neck, and I resist the urge to lift my hair off it.
Keep it together.
“Did you touch the body?” Brady’s deep voice makes me jump. “Check to see if he was alive?”
“No.”
“Not even to check for a pulse?”
I turn my head to glare at him. “He was obviously dead. The bullet holes and the fact that he was gray were kind of a giveaway.”
Luke’s head comes up at my acerbic tone. “We’re on your side, Elizabeth. We have to know all the details. You know that.”
I clench my teeth. I do know that. I may not practice criminal law, but every attorney knows it’s the details that make the difference.
I give them a clipped nod. “You’re right.”
Luke watches me for another long moment and then flips back a couple of pages on the pad. Before he can ask another question, Brady speaks.
“What about the delay between when your security system recorded your interior garage door opening and when you called the police? What were you doing?”
His voice is calm, but I feel the undercurrent of a challenge. Like he’s testing me. Poking to see where the cracks in my story are.
“I just told you. I didn’t see him right away.”
Brady pushes away from the desk and turns to Luke.
“Are they doing the autopsy today? That will give them time of death.” His eyes cut to me, and I’m struck again by his intensity.
“You said he was gray?” I nod. “Then unless they are going to claim you killed him and then reentered the house to stage it, they are going to have a hard time proving a timeline.” He swings back to Luke. “Negative GSR?”
Luke nods.
“Of course, it was negative.” I snap. “I couldn’t have gunshot residue on me if I didn’t shoot anyone.”
“You could have washed your hands.”
My mouth falls open. Whose side is he on?
Brady holds up his hands. “I’m just pointing out how the police will think. Can you prove you were wearing the same clothes all day, that you were still wearing them when the police got there?”
“Prove it?” His question startles me. “I mean, I don’t have pictures, but my client might remember.”
“Or the restaurant might have caught you leaving on their cameras,” Luke points out.
Brady hums a sound of agreement. “Did you park yourself or valet?”
“Valet.”
“That’s good. They’ll remember you.”
“They might not.”
He cracks another smile. “Yeah. They will. You’re a beautiful woman.”
I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open again.
“The police know I didn’t kill him.” I shove away my surprise at Brady’s words, refocusing on Luke, who is now staring hard at Brady. “You said that’s why they let me take a few of my things and leave last night.”
Luke shook his head. “I told you the detective agreed the scene looked staged, and he had been dead longer than you would have been home. That doesn’t mean you are completely out of the woods.
They could claim you had an accomplice. The note is another problem.
” He and Brady exchange a look, an unspoken conversation passing between them.
“Hello? I’m still in the room.”
Luke gives me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. You’re right in that I don’t think it’s likely you’ll be charged, but we need to be prepared.”
“Fine.” I stifle most of my groan, but his dancing eyes make me suspect Brady heard.
“How long did you stand there before you called 911?” he asks.
I bite the inside of my cheek. I don’t want to answer. It’s humiliating.
Silence.
His eyes narrow on mine. “If you lie to us or withhold information, this isn’t going to work.”
I think I might hate him.
“I threw up, okay? I got sick, and then I called.” I lift my gaze and look Brady straight in the eye. “Is that going to be a problem, Mr. Worthington?”
His expression doesn’t change. “Everybody throws up sometimes, it’s an involuntary reaction. Have you gotten a copy of the 911 call yet?”
I’m a little stunned that he glosses over it. But then wonder why I’m surprised. He has no reason to be mean to me. He doesn’t even know me.
Now I’m mad at myself for being embarrassed.
My god, I’m a complete mess.
“Yeah, called in a favor. I think it will be to our benefit.” I hear Luke answer him.
A relieved breath escapes my lips.
“Can I hear it?”
Luke eyes me warily. “It might be better if we wait—”
I frown. “Why? I made the call. I know what I said… fundamentally… but I don’t remember the exact words.”
“It might be upsetting so soon after…” Luke looks at Brady, which makes my temper rise.
“Did he listen to it?”
Luke shakes his head. “It’s immaterial to his job.”
“What’s the problem, Luke?” I won’t release his gaze. “I’m going to have to hear it eventually. If they bring me in for questioning, they will probably ask me about it. Isn’t it better for me to stay consistent?”
“She’s right.”
Luke lets out a heavy sigh, pulls out his phone, and lays it on the desk.
My voice fills the air. Or at least, I think it’s my voice. The shaky, choking noises sound nothing like me.
Brady doesn’t say anything. Neither does Luke. I can feel their eyes on me, and somehow it’s worse than what their words might be.
My spine locks, and I force my arms to stay still.
I will not fall apart. I won’t.
My chest is tight, my throat raw, and my vision blurs for a moment. I dig my nails into my palm again, harder this time. Willing myself not to show weakness.
Brady’s jaw flexes. “We’ll figure out who did this, Elizabeth.”
We.
I haven’t been a ‘we’ in a long time.
I don’t even know if I’m still capable of it.