Chapter Fourteen #2
Saying nothing, I crossed to the nightstand, stuck my hand inside, and pulled out Sue’s phone without hesitation. It disappeared into an evidence bag and was almost out the door when I said—
“Of course, I’m certain you won’t attempt to access my phone, laptop, or even my television without a warrant.” My tone was flat. Dead. “Because, just so this is clear, you do not have my permission to do otherwise.”
Two of the officers paused at the threshold—one of them the woman who’d been assigned to me by Davis.
“I see,” she said.
“And,” I went on, “of course you must secure the crime scene and make sure the suspect doesn’t slip away, but you do not have my permission to conduct a search of any room in this manor that isn’t my mother’s.”
“How unfortunate, Mrs. Kim.” Her tone matched mine. “We assumed you’d want to do everything to help us find your mother’s killer. Were we mistaken?”
“You were if you thought emotional manipulation would work on me.” I tugged on my hair, undoing the stupid bun, and taking out the clips and earrings.
“I won’t let you treat me or my family like suspects.
Davis suspects the same person who—who k-killed”—my voice broke—“my mother, also killed Mrs. Prado. And he ruled me and my husbands out as suspects in that crime weeks ago, so the last thing I’m going to let you do is waste time going after us while the real killer slips out the front door—if he hasn’t already.
“Because your captain is right. Right now, the manor is full of wealthy, entitled townies and cityfolk who’ve seen enough crime shows to know that they don’t have to speak to you, and they don’t have to stay here longer than they want to.
“So every fucking second you spend fiddling with the phone of the woman who was downstairs with a cop shadow all night, is an unforgivable insult to my mother—who deserves competent officers who don’t need it explained that a person can’t be in two places at once.”
She stiffened, eyes flashing.
“You better spend every fucking second of every fucking minute from now until the detectives arrive comparing notes with each other and identifying who came upstairs and into the east wing when they had no reason to be there, and then you turn the heat up on those fuckers until they fry!” I burst out, finally unleashing an emotion—but it wasn’t sorrow.
“And if you don’t have that list ready and in my hands by sunup, I promise you— I swear on my life!
That I will sue you and your whole department for negligence! ”
“Mrs. Kim—”
“How dare you!” I screamed, throat shredding. “How dare you question my desire to see that filthy fucking psychopath in the electric chair!”
“Mrs. Kim, I—”
“You don’t need my help to find him. You don’t want it!” I roared. “Because if I go searching for that bastard, I won’t stop until I stab him so many times in the fucking face HIS EYEBALLS BURST!”
She gaped at me—truly stunned like she didn’t know if the five-foot-one, hundred-and-ten-pound woman was about to attack.
Chest heaving, I felt that tight, writhing, festering, flaming pit that appeared after finding my mother, harden into something heavier, sharper—deadlier.
“So, trust me,” I rasped—my sore throat lacing the words sinister. “I want you to be the ones to find him. He wants you to be the ones to find him. Because if I get to him first... I’ll be the one going to prison for murder.”
Both officers stared at me, their poker faces blown. Her partner opened his mouth like he was going to say something. And then she opened her mouth.
Thinking better of it, their lips resealed, and they left.
HOURS LATER, WE WERE all back in the ballroom—spread out among the tables and chairs as three individuals stepped up onto the platform.
The full table was mine. Rhodes, Micah, Alex, and Courtney huddled around me—all of them touching at least one body part. My hand, shoulders, my thighs. All of them trying to will comfort into my bones.
But none of it touched the pit.
A woman in silk gray pants and a matching gray vest broke from the pack and stepped forward on the platform.
“Hello, everyone, I am Detective Balogun,” she began.
“I won’t say good morning, because it’s far from that.
I’m deeply sorry for what has happened here, and I extend my sincerest sympathies to Madame Kim’s family.
” She nodded in my direction. “I know you’re all tired and scared.
You want to go home, and for those of you who are home, you want to know who came into it and violated it in the worst way.
“I swear to you that I, and my partner, Detective Kaplan, will do everything in our power to achieve those ends, but we’ll need your help,” she said. “My officers have been very thorough in pooling their recollections for the creation of this list.”
Micah brushed his hand across my thigh and slipped under my palm, lacing his fingers through mine.
Even with everything happening, my body responded to his touch—leaving a tide of goose bumps in his hand’s wake. Surrounded by him, Alex, Rhodes, and my best friend, the pit didn’t shrink, but it didn’t grow either.
“This list,” Balogun continued, “is you. With the exception of Mrs. Soo Min Kim, you are the people who left the party and went upstairs for reasons unknown before the time of death. And we will be speaking to you all now—one at a time—to discover why.”
“No, you won’t,” a voice spoke up, turning all eyes to Pixie.
She was sandwiched between Button Nose and Chic Ghost like she had been all night.
At the table next to her was Mr. Layton—Lily’s teacher.
“This is an outrage. I certainly didn’t drive all this way to murder a woman I’ve never even met.
I demand you release us,” she said, nodding to her friends. “Now.”
“Happily,” Balogun said smoothly. “As soon as we ascertain why you left the designated party area to wander around the home of a woman you’ve never even met.”
“I’m not answering any questions without my lawyer present,” she snapped.
“As is your right, Mrs. de la Fountaine.” She nodded to Davis, who nodded to an officer posted at the ballroom door, who stuck her head out the door to speak to someone.
“We are returning all phones and devices at this time, so feel free to call said lawyer now, and then get comfortable. I hear the three-hour-drive becomes four hours thanks to the New York morning rush hour.”
Mrs. de la Fountaine bristled, clearly hearing the edge that snuck into Balogun’s tone.
“Are you also electing to wait until your lawyer arrives, Mrs. Kim?”
“What?” My head snapped up. “Me? But you just said—”
“You may not be on the list,” she sliced in, “but you did know the victim best. We need to interview you.” She gestured to the door. “After you.”
“Hold on a minute,” Rhodes cried, getting to his feet. “Anything you need to know about our mother-in-law, we can tell you. The last thing we’re going to let you do is interrogate our wife less than twelve hours after she lost her mother. Fuck’s sake, you can see for yourself that she’s in shock.”
What was written on my face that they all could see but I couldn’t?
“Have some compassion,” Micah barked.
Balogun didn’t twitch. “I do have compassion... for Madame Ha-eun Kim.” She pointed again. “After you, Mrs. Kim.”
“She—!”
“It’s okay,” I croaked, stopping Courtney with a hand on her knee. “I’ll talk to them. I won’t be the reason the investigation is held up.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Micah helped me up, and then he just held me. Pressing his forehead to mine, he dropped a light kiss on my nose. “I’m so sorry, baby, but we’re here for you. We’re not going anywhere—you’re not going anywhere—until we find the bastard who did this.”
A deal made what seemed like years ago, floated through my mind. “Just until we find him?” fell from my lips unbidden.
Micah rocked slightly back, brows rising. He tossed a glance at Rhodes and Alex, who looked back at him with the same surprise.
The surprise fell away from Rhodes’s eyes, and something else took hold. “And after.”
“And after,” Micah agreed.
“And...” Alex met my eyes. “After. If that’s what you want.”
“I—”
“Mrs. Kim?” Davis appeared at my side. “With me, if you please.”
I certainly didn’t feel like making any love confessions in front of the man who all but accused me of hiring a hitman to kill my mother, so I let him lead me away—leaving my reply unsaid.
That’s how I found myself in the front room, sitting on the couch as the detectives pulled over two armchairs and placed them directly before me.
The proximity allowed me to get a proper look at the two of them, and they were opposites in almost every way.
Balogun was tall, slim, bald, and severe from the way she dressed to her angular features and sharp cheekbones. She was also young. She didn’t appear to be much older than me, but she was already a homicide detective with the LPD.
Whereas her partner, Kaplan, was short, thick, sported a full head of silver hair, and had round red cheeks to go with the almost jolly smile he gave me when he sat down.
A click behind me turned my head.
Davis stepped into the room, shut the door, and leaned against the wood.
“Morning, Mrs. Kim,” Balogun said. “Before we begin, we’d like to warn you that we are recording this interview.” She slipped the recorder out of her pocket and tapped it on before I got a chance to object.
“Go ahead. It’s fine with me.” It really was fine with me. My own phone was on and recording since Davis knocked on my door an hour before and told me to go downstairs.
“We’re sorry for your loss, Mrs. Kim,” Kaplan spoke up. “We know this is difficult, and if you need a minute, please tell us.”
“I will,” I replied. “But I can do this. I want to help.”