Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Darby rubbed her hands over her arms as the chill of the interrogation room got to her. Since arriving at Sheraton PD, she’d been separated from Clay and treated more like a suspect than a witness.
At least she wasn’t handcuffed, but the door was locked. She’d tried it after an hour of waiting, wanting to find someone who could tell her what was happening.
Brent was dead. That much she knew. Surely, they didn’t now consider her a suspect?
Finally, the door opened and Chief Dean entered. He was only a few years older than she was, and she’d even helped campaign for him back when Suzanne was still working for her. Darby didn’t know him personally, but he had to know she wasn’t a killer.
“Why am I being held here?” she demanded as he sat down.
“A man is dead, Mrs. Foster. Your ex-husband was found shot to death, and Agent Walker and I literally found you leaning over the body.”
“I’ve already given you my statement. He found me at the hotel and was trying to apologize when someone started shooting. He jumped in front of me. He saved me.”
Dean opened the folder in his hands and skimmed through her statement. “It says here that he confessed to you that he and Grant Rushton were working together.”
“Yes. He said Rushton approached him and offered him money. He would take care of everything, then Brent would give him half of the inheritance money. That’s what he told me.”
“My officers managed to apprehend the shooter twenty minutes ago. If we can convince him to name Rushton as the man who paid him, this threat against you might be over.”
She’d heard that before but, for now, she would continue to be cautious. “Can I go now?”
He tapped his finger on the table then nodded and stood. “You’re free to go. Agent Walker is working with my officers to create a list of questions that might help with the interrogation. He asked that you wait for him in the break room. And don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe here.”
“What about Hercules? Where is he?”
“He’s fine. We retrieved his kennel from the hotel room and found a quiet, out of the way spot for him. He has water and food.”
Dean led her out and down the hallway toward a room with a few tables and vending machines. “I’ll let him know where you are.”
She thanked him for taking care of that then walked over to the vending machine. She didn’t have any change on her and she’d left her phone, purse, and everything back at the inn.
Chief Dean walked over and handed her several one-dollar bills.
“Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” He turned and walked out, no doubt eager to get start interrogating shooting suspect.
She slid the bills into the vending machines and punched out a can of diet soda and a candy bar. She felt better after getting something into her stomach and decided to find Hercules and make sure he was okay.
A uniformed officer led her to a corner by the dispatch center, where Hercules’s kennel was. He wagged his tail when he saw her but seemed content and enjoying the attention the dispatch officers were giving him when they weren’t answering calls.
She spent a few minutes with him then headed back to the break room, stopping cold when she heard a familiar voice.
Suzanne.
Weariness rushed through her. The last person she wanted to see was Suzanne. Darby didn’t have time for her pettiness, not after all she’d been through.
She turned and spotted her rival down the hallway, talking with Chief Dean. He leaned over her as they spoke, and he grinned in a way that showed she had him hooked. That shouldn’t bother Darby, but it did.
She didn’t know how far his affection might take him.
Darby didn’t like to think badly of any law-enforcement officer.
Most of them were good, honest, hard-working men and women who placed their lives on the line every day.
But they were also people with everyday problems. Money issues, personal problems, kids, and addictions.
It wasn’t unheard of for an officer to compromise his morals when the circumstances were dire enough.
But was a pretty face enough to make Chief Dean compromise his duty to his town?
She sighed. However much she didn’t care for Suzanne and her influence over the chief, it seemed she couldn’t blame Dean for the attacks against her. Brent had confessed to her that he’d taken money from her uncle as part of a plan to kill her and get the money Grant believed he was owed.
She hurried the opposite way, in the direction of the break room, hoping to avoid Suzanne.
It didn’t work.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s here.”
Darby froze at Suzanne’s voice, the sneer in her tone telling Darby that she’d meant the words for her. She turned to see Suzanne walking toward her.
“Suzanne. What are you doing here?”
“Just visiting. And you?”
Darby wasn’t about to discuss her business with Suzanne. Besides, if she was as close to Chief Dean as she claimed, she already knew. “Waiting for someone.”
“Oh?” Suzanne gave her a mischievous smile. “You’re dating a convict now? I’m sure your clients will love hearing that.”
“Don’t you dare spread that rumor,” Darby warned before realizing the foolishness of letting Suzanne get to her. “Then again, you’ve never had a problem sticking to the truth, have you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re one to talk. You told everyone I was a thief.”
“You are, and we both know it. If your police-chief boyfriend hadn’t cleaned up after you and made that video disappear, everyone else would know it too.”
“You deserve everything you’re getting, Darby, for spreading these lies about me.”
“Me lying about you? That’s rich.” But something she’d said grabbed Darby’s attention. “What do you know about these attacks against me?”
“Only what I’ve heard from Jeff.”
“It’s one thing to wish harm on my business and my reputation, but I have a son. You’ve met him and these attacks against me place him in danger too.”
“Everyone knows he’s gone until Christmas. Besides, you deserve whatever you get for lying about me.”
Darby held up her hands. This back and forth was getting nowhere. Suzanne was never going to admit she’d stolen that jewelry, and Darby would never relent in her belief that Suzanne had brought this on herself.
Now that she knew her uncle was the man behind the threats against her, and Suzanne wasn’t involved, there was little point in continuing to speak with her.
Darby turned away. “Just leave me alone.”
“No!” Her voice turned gritty and bitter.
“I will never leave you alone, Darby. I will make your life miserable every day until the day I manage to run you out of business and out of town. I will make you sorry you ever crossed me. You tried to ruin my life, and I have made it my lifelong goal to ruin yours.”
She’d gotten a frantic look on her face, and her voice had risen as she finished her tirade.
She lunged at Darby, grabbed her by the hair and shoved her to the ground.
Darby fought back, kicking her and screaming.
Doors opened and people came running. She couldn’t identity any of them until Clay appeared and pulled her away.
Chief Dean did the same with Suzanne, separating them.
“What’s going on here?” Dean demanded. He held Suzanne back then locked eyes with Darby. “What happened.”
“She attacked me,” Darby told him. “She’s crazy.”
“You started this,” Suzanne hollered.
Darby turned to Clay. “Please get me away from her.”
He nodded and led her away, pressing her face against his shoulder. He didn’t speak until they got outside and had gotten in his pickup.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded but the confrontation had shaken her. The last thing she needed was seeing Suzanne and being berated and assaulted.
He leaned over and put his arm around her. “She shouldn’t have said those things. No one deserves what you’ve been through, and if she really understood that, she wouldn’t have said it.”
Darby would have chosen to remain in his arms for the rest of the evening. He’d become so important to her in the few days she’d known him.
The doors to the station opened, and Chief Dean exited with Suzanne. He walked her to her car and held her before opening the door and seeing her off. He glanced over at the pickup, sighed, and headed back inside.
“I can take you back to the hotel,” Clay offered.
“No. Now that she’s gone, I’ll be fine here until you’re ready.” The truth was that she didn’t want to be alone or relive Brent’s death.
As Clay walked with her to the break room, Chief Dean approached them. She hoped it wasn’t to talk about the confrontation between her and Suzanne but he spoke to Clay, not her.
“I just received a call from the front desk. He’s here to turn himself in.”
She hardly had time to ask what he meant when the doors opened and the man responsible for all her troubles, the man who’d hired other men to kill her, stepped inside—her uncle, Grant Rushton.