Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
The train groaned as it pulled into Denver, metal wheels screeching against the rails like fingernails on glass.
Jayda sat rigidly on the bench in her cabin, hands clasped in her lap so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
She couldn’t look out the window, couldn’t bear the way the city seemed to rush past as if the world itself was moving faster than she could think.
She would be questioned about Simon’s murder, and yet, all she could hear in her head was Michael’s confession of love.
Of marriage.
The conductor’s voice cut over the loudspeaker, steady but grim. “We are arriving at Denver Station. Passengers, remain in your assigned cabins until police escort you for questioning.”
Marriage?
She couldn’t process the idea. Michael Blair loved her and wanted to marry her.
Was this one of his tricks? Maybe he hit his head when he nearly fell off the train.
The man was infuriating. One moment he hated her, and the next he wanted her to be part of the Blair family by marriage?
Not by childhood circumstance, not by obligation, but by forever vows?
Her heart thudded against her ribs. She had denied his words and bolted. If she let herself believe them—believe in him—what then? What if she said yes to him only to be snatched by the mob next week? What if she ruined him just by existing in his life?
The train jolted to a stop, knocking her thoughts out of orbit.
And true to the conductor’s word, a knock came on her door. Her escort had arrived.
The exterior doors hissed open for her walk of shame. Denver greeted her with the bite of icy mountain air and the flashing red-and-blue lights of waiting police cruisers. Officers in dark jackets lined the platform, their breath fogging in the night air.
“Miss Simone?”
Jayda looked up, blinking, as an officer with tired eyes and a notepad stopped in front of her. His tone was polite, but there was no mistaking the edge of suspicion beneath it.
“Yes,” she said, voice steady despite the gallop of her heart.
“Please come with us for questioning.”
Suddenly Michael stood behind her, and Jayda nearly leaned into him. He must have been watching for her out of his cabin window.
“I’m going with her,” he said.
“No,” Jayda replied, looking at the officer. “It’s fine. I can handle this. I don’t need…him.”
She didn’t mean to make her words sound cruel, but she didn’t look back either as she continued her walk to the interrogation.
The small room inside the station that became the questioning room was small but functional, painted a weary gray that looked like it hadn’t been refreshed in twenty years.
A metal table separated her from two detectives—Detective Hollins, who did most of the talking, and Detective Fields, who scribbled notes in quick, impatient bursts.
Hollins leaned forward, folding his hands. “Miss Simone, you took a phone from the murder scene of Simon Blair. Can you walk us through why that happened?”
Jayda drew a slow breath. She’d practiced this in her head, wishing she’d majored in criminal law, but knew enough from her one semester to keep it simple and true.
Or ask for counsel.
“Simon was a friend,” she said. “Or so I thought. He was trying to help me, but I wouldn’t let him. Now, I know it’s good that I hadn’t trusted him.”
“Help you with what?”
Jayda bit her lip, knowing how this would sound. “The mob’s been trying to kill me. I’m on a hit-list of some kind.”
Hollins’ eyebrows arched. “Is that so? And how did you manage that?”
Jayda had no choice but to tell the truth. “I tasered one of them. He was stealing a file from the library. He had a gun. I only protected myself.”
“There was a man from the mob at the library?” Hollins’ eyes squinted.
Jayda winced. “I know that sounds absurd, but it’s true. He was looking for the whereabouts of a woman who turned state’s evidence on someone. She’s also on the hit list. The file had information about where she went.”
“And where’s that?”
Jayda shook her head. “I don’t feel comfortable sharing that information. And it has nothing to do with why Simon is dead.”
Hollins smirked. “Fine. Where’s the file now?”
“Gone.”
“Gone? How?”
“It blew off the train when a man was trying to kill me.”
Hollins chuckled. “Convenient. But I guess that’s a better excuse than your dog ate it.”
Jayda pursed her lips in annoyance. “Make fun of me all you want. But it’s all true. And the longer you talk to me, the faster Simon’s killer gets away. If he survived the fall from the train, that is.”
Fields’ pen scratched against the paper. Hollins tilted his head. “Okay, we’ll circle back to that one. First, let’s back up to the question of why Simon is dead. You say he was working in organized crime.”
“With. He was paid to deliver me to the mob.”
“That’s a big assumption.”
“Not an assumption. It’s all on his phone. I’m assuming the conductor gave it to you? The passcode is 3341. Read it for yourselves.”
“We will.”
Jayda forced herself to meet his eyes. “He pretended to be my friend, and I think maybe he was at the end. He gave me the cash they gave them. I believe he had been paid to kidnap me. He might have felt guilty and told them he would not fulfill their deal, and that’s why they killed him.”
“What made you touch evidence at a crime scene?” Ramirez asked suddenly. “I’m told you’re studying to be a lawyer. Did they not teach you about evidence?”
Her pulse skipped. “Of course. But when your life is on the line, legalities become blurred.”
The door burst open, with Ed standing behind it. “Jayda, don’t say another word. Detectives, we’re done here until I have talked with my client. Let’s go, Jayda.”
Fields looked up from his pad. “Thank you for your information, Miss Simone.”
Ramirez studied her like a puzzle with too many missing pieces. But after a long silence, he sat back. “You’re free to go for now. Don’t leave town until we say you’re free to leave.”
Relief and fear tangled inside her chest. She stood too quickly, her chair scraping against the floor. Racing to Ed, he wrapped an arm around her and closed the door on the men.
“Next time, ask for help. I had no idea they were considering you as a suspect. If it hadn’t been for Michael coming to tell me, you would still be in there incriminating yourself.”
“I just told them the truth.”
“Oh, sweetheart, truth and justice don’t always go together in this world. Learn that now.”
Michael stood waiting outside the room, pacing like a tethered animal. The second he saw her, he was at her side, hands gripping her shoulders.
“What did they say? What did you tell them? I want the details.”
“They let me go,” she said, her voice harsher than she intended. This was the new Michael, not the one she fought with every breath. He’d said he cared…that he loved her.
“That’s not what I asked.”
She shook her head, unwilling to share the news about his cousin. “Michael, this isn’t one of your stories. There’s no angle you can wrap up in two thousand words. It’s complicated, and I don’t think you’ll want to know the truth. It’ll come out, and it’s going to be ugly.”
His jaw tightened. “You’re wrong. I see at least three stories here, and they don’t end well for you. They’re saying you tampered with evidence at the crime scene. What happened?”
“Stop.” The word came out sharp, but she couldn’t let him keep peeling this out of her.
Simon was his family, not hers, regardless of his confession of love and marriage.
Simon was a blood relative of his. She was nothing.
“This isn’t a headline. This is my life. I did what I had to do. That’s all.”
Michael leaned close, whispering, “Tell me. I can handle it.”
Jayda looked at Ed, not wanting to hurt either of these men. But she knew the truth would come out and crush them anyway.
Before Michael could push further, the rest of the Blair family appeared down the hall—Ginny with a distraught Caroline and Henry trailing behind, the twins in their hands.
Simon’s parents would be devastated to learn what he had done. Jayda didn’t want to be the one to tell them.
Ginny stepped forward, wrapping Jayda in a motherly embrace that caught her off guard. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Jayda said, though her voice trembled against Ginny’s shoulder.
“Are you in trouble? Ed will help you. But you need to tell us what’s going on.”
Jayda lifted her head to face Caroline and Henry. “It’s about Simon. He did something…terrible. It’s what got him killed.”
Heavy sadness swept over Caroline’s face, but the woman nodded once as if she knew someday this would happen. “Be honest with us, Jayda. What did my boy do this time?”
Detective Hollins stepped out of the room with Simon’s phone. “Your story checks out, Miss Simone. I still want you to hang around for a while. I have some other questions about the men chasing you. We find them, and we find Simon’s killer.”
Caroline let out a cry. “What did he do to get himself killed?”
Hollins replied, “Simon took a bribe to deliver Miss Simone to the killer. When he didn’t, he got himself killed.”
Michael searched Jayda’s face, his eyes darkened with shock and fear that made her chest ache.
“I’m sorry,” she said to him and then to them all.
“But it’s true. Simon and was willing to put my life at risk for money.
I took his phone from his cabin to read his texts.
They confirmed it. So yes, I tampered with evidence, but I had to know the truth.
I had to know if he had died because of me.
I was just as shocked and hurt by what I read.
But he gave me the money. I believe Simon regretted what he had done. But there was no going back for him.”
Caroline turned, embracing her husband, the two needing this time together.