31. Anna
ANNA
No wonder people crack under pressure in here.
I’m left alone in my little holding room for at least two hours before anyone even speaks to me.
And when they do, it’s relentless. It doesn’t matter how many times I give my statement.
I’m asked again and again and again to recall my version of events last night, and that’s before Detective Nash even gets here.
I’m speaking with the third person by the time he enters the room, where I’m told once again to start from the top.
If the detective’s demeanor had been unsympathetic the last time we spoke, it’s downright antagonistic now, no doubt the result of Nash learning about who was just discovered in my apartment.
I go over the events as concisely as possible, starting with Damon coming by my place, then him leaving to pick up McDonald’s, and then him coming back to spend the night.
“What were you doing?” he demands, scribbling furiously on his notepad.
“We ate, watched TV, and went back to my bedroom.”
“And?”
And what? “Do you want to know the general activity or the positions?” I ask, unable to hold back my snark.
The female officer who had previously been questioning me has to hold back a laugh. She still can’t wrestle down her smile, needing to turn away.
Nash, on the other hand, isn’t remotely amused. “The Westfall Jewelers over in the Borough was robbed again last night, Miss Evans. And, by all accounts, these are the same men who killed Keith Randall. This isn’t the time to get cute.”
That definitely sobers up the room, but I do my best to appear unaffected. “I’m failing to see what that has to do with me. I wasn’t there. I’m sure you can check the security footage of my apartment building to confirm this. I never left.”
“We’re already looking into it, and as far as we can tell, the building has a few blind spots.”
“But you just said it yourself. The robbers were men . Why am I here?”
“I can assume you’re aware of what circumstantial evidence is, Miss Evans.
” He says this like it might be a question, but he doesn’t wait for me to say anything.
“Your presence in town was already suspicious at best, and now we find the prime suspect of the robbery in your apartment. You do understand how that looks, right?”
“I’m sorry, but what ?” I scoff. “You seriously think Damon is one of the thieves? Based on what, other than the fact that you don’t like him? Did he not have an alibi? Was he seen trying to sell stolen goods? Did someone name him as an accomplice?”
Nothing. He doesn’t have a single explanation.
I laugh, but it sounds an awful lot more like a scoff.
“Damon really wasn’t kidding. Lillian Blackwood snaps her fingers, and you all obediently do what she says.
Tell me, did I become a person of interest to you before or after you realized I could sue her employee and the business itself for endangerment? ”
That definitely causes a scratch in the record.
Either Nash is a terrific actor, or he has no idea what I’m referring to, because he genuinely looks taken aback.
“Surely you’ve seen the security footage from inside the shop by now, examined every frame.
You’re telling me you didn’t notice Devin throwing me into the line of fire when they started taking hostages?
” I click my tongue. “That goes above and beyond the definition of negligence. Not to mention, I have the hospital records and the extensive photos the police took of me to prove personal injury. And what spectacular timing. Barely a day after I inform Lillian of my intentions, another one of her stores is robbed and I’m dragged down here without provocation.
This is beginning to sound an awful lot like targeted harassment to me. ”
I’ve clearly knocked the detective off-kilter, because he’s a little too eager to answer the soft tapping at the door. Immediately, his posture relaxes, throwing up a red flag in my mind.
“You’re in luck, Miss Evans.” Detective Nash pushes the door open further to allow another man into the room. He’s shorter and thinner than me, with wiry black hair, glasses, and a kind face.
Despite Nash clearly wanting to drop the anvil, his cheery little friend here can’t resist the nicety and introduces himself.
“Alfred Watters,” he announces, shaking my hand. “I’ll be your polygraph examiner today.”
“Polygraph?” My voice catches as I look up at Nash. “I thought you said you didn’t have one.”
“I come in on Mondays whenever there’s a job opening available at the station,” Watters clarifies. “Taking a polygraph is part of the pre-application process to vet the applicants, and since I was already here, the detective asked me to run an examination with you. Would that be all right?”
Nash may be annoyed, but he knows he just brought a gun to a fist fight. This isn’t going to be like the last time we talked. He’ll be getting answers. Definitive ones.
And I don’t think he’ll like them very much.
We start with the control questions to develop a baseline, and then we’re off to the races.
“Were you with Mr. Knox last night?”
“Yes.”
“Were you with him between 8:15 and 8:45 specifically?”
I shrug because, genuinely, I don’t know. That was the purpose of making sure I didn’t have access to anything with a clock after Damon came to the apartment. “I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the time.”
“Did he leave the apartment at some point?”
“He left to pick up food not long after the sun set, and he went out onto my balcony sometime later and had a smoke. That’s it.” Again, technically true. It’s not my fault Nash doesn’t ask how long Damon was out there for.
“Did you ever fall asleep at some point?”
“No.”
“Was Mr. Knox ever out of your sight during the night?”
“Yeah, when he went out onto the balcony and when he used the bathroom. Things like that.”
“Was Westfall Jewelers the reason you moved to Paradise City?” A.k.a., Did you come here just to orchestrate a robbery?
“No.”
“Did you interview at Westfall with the intent to get a job?”
“Yes.”
“Was that the only intent?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know Damon Knox?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware of his connection to Westfall?”
“I am now, yes.”
“Were you aware of it on October 8th of this year?” A.k.a., The day of the first robbery.
“No.”
“Did you meet Mr. Knox on October 8th?”
“I can only assume you’re asking because you believe he was behind the robbery, which in that case, how could I say yes or no if I didn’t see the thief’s face?”
Nash grounds his teeth. “Are you in a sexual relationship with Mr. Knox?”
“Yes.”
“Did you meet him prior to October 8th?”
“No.”
“Were you in communication with him prior to October 8th of this year? Phone, text, email, handwritten correspondence, anything of the sort?”
“No.”
Nash continues looking at Watters with each question, who just keeps nodding.
Yep, the detective is definitely not a happy camper.
“When did you first meet Damon Knox?”
“Aren’t these only supposed to be yes or no questions?” I counter, earning me a glare.
“Just answer the question.”
Well, if that’s how he’s going to play it… “The first time I ever saw his face was at the gala on Saturday night.”
“Had you ever heard of the name Damon Knox prior to that?”
“No.”
“Did you have any idea who he was when you met?”
“No.”
Watters gives a thumbs up, and I swear the muscle in Nash’s cheek jumps.
“Did you play a role in the robbery at Westfall on October 8th?”
“No.”
“Did you play a role in the death of Keith Randall?”
“No.”
The questions keep coming, and I pass them all.
It’s obvious after another few minutes by Nash’s waning inflection that he’s running out of steam.
He thought he had me cornered, and since the exam was of the “pop quiz” variety, he knows I didn’t have a chance to prepare or take medication to mess with the reading.
He runs a hand through his hair and even begins to say that we’re done, but he pauses. “Do you believe Sebastian Chadwick really attacked you?”
Now I’m the one glaring. “Not anymore, no.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“No.”
I assume he’s asking as a way to reaffirm his distrust of me, but to my surprise, he asks, “Do you believe Sebastian knows who did?”
“Yes.”
Watters gives another thumbs up, and with that, Nash just stares at me, like he can extract whatever it is that I’m not saying.
Somebody knocks on the door, and when he tells them he’s busy, the woman on the other side insists on speaking with him.
Begrudgingly, Nash agrees, and though he’s only gone for a couple of minutes, it’s clear a lot has happened since he walked out.
All of the polygraph gear is removed from me, and despite the last several hours of non-stop grilling, Nash suddenly tells me I’m free to go.
Huh?
Even Watters looks taken aback by the detective’s abrupt departure, but he just shrugs and is kind enough to walk me out.
Damon is still talking to someone by the reception desk, but he waves at me, indicating he’ll meet me out front. Thank. God.
Though, as relieved as I am to get out of here, I’m just as confused.
Since I have been monitoring the news about the Westfall robbery, it’s no surprise that anything pertaining to the store comes up on my newsfeed.
For the last couple of weeks, it’s been nothing but recaps of the first theft.
I expect the latest articles to be about the second, and though there are a few, the breaking story is far more focused on the third .
Again, huh?
I tap on the leading story and am treated to the headline:
Jewelry Heist in Jefferson County
The accompanying video has a newscaster standing on the sidewalk just in front of a line of police tape, declaring, “This is the third robbery to hit Westfall Jewelers in just the past month. Eyewitnesses say the thieves were in and out in barely a minute, and several bystanders managed to catch them on video fleeing the scene. It is not yet known how much was taken, but based on the previous two robberies, it’s safe to say they made off with a good haul. ”