Chapter 22
Nora
I t’s been three days since they identified Mike’s body.
Three days since a strange man was murdered in my apartment.
Three days since I’ve seen my watcher. Three days of constantly looking over my shoulder, fearful that the next man my father sends will be successful.
Three days of being on edge, waiting for the police to arrest me.
Max’s solid, calming presence has been the only thing stopping me from going completely insane.
But as always there’s the conflict. While Max would be the perfect man for me, he doesn’t need someone like me in his life.
That, and the fact I’m obsessed with my watcher.
Of course, I haven’t been able to fully confide in him.
He knows nothing of my watcher, my father, or anything else, he simply thinks I’m scared and upset knowing that a colleague and former friend was murdered.
We have agreed that I won’t tell the police about the assault when they eventually interview me.
It would only make them suspect Max, and I know he’s innocent.
Given the fact that the police haven’t spoken to me yet, we’re confident Mike didn’t tell anyone about the assault before he died.
Despite this, I feel jumpy and tense. I just want the police to hurry up and speak to everyone at work already.
However, as I walk into work and notice the police car parked outside my heart plummets.
Be careful what you wish for…
“Hey, Nora!” Tammy trills, rushing over to me. “The police are here. They’re interviewing Rose right now, and she said to send you to the staff room the moment you arrive.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” I reply with a gulp.
My nerves must be written across my face, because Tammy reaches out to squeeze my arm, tilting her head to the side as she looks at me pityingly.
“It’s okay. It’s just routine questioning to get some background on Mike.
It’s not like you did anything or have any knowledge about his murder, so you don’t need to worry. ”
A strangled, hysterical sound escapes my throat. “Yeah, I know,” I reply, aiming for casual but sounding guilty as sin.
Fuck, I need to pull myself together or the cops will know something is up.
I head to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and gather my nerves before going to the staff room, where I’m met by a uniformed officer who asks my name and tells me to wait.
A short while later, Rose comes out, shooting me a small comforting smile of reassurance, and I’m called in to speak to the two plainclothes officers inside.
“Nora Adams?” the elder of the two men asks, looking up from his notepad.
“Yes,” I reply nervously, hovering near the door.
“Please, take a seat,” the man says, smiling slightly with kind brown eyes under bushy gray eyebrows.
He waits until I do as instructed, before continuing, “I’m Detective Brookes and this is Detective Simon,” he says gesturing to his colleague, an average looking man who I’d estimate to be in his mid-thirties.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, we’re investigating the murder of your colleague, Mike Thomas.
We just need to ask you some questions to help with our investigation.
If it’s alright with you, we’ll record this interview for our records. ”
“Of course,” I reply, nodding and clasping my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting.
“How would you describe your relationship with Mike? Did you get along?” he asks, looking up at me, pen poised.
I consider his question and decide the best course of action is to be as truthful as possible. “Yes, we got along well enough. He was a good colleague, hardworking, on time, polite, and friendly.”
“So you saw him only as a colleague, not a friend?” the younger man interjects, and I wonder what my other colleagues have said.
I shrug, trying to remain casual. “We didn’t particularly socialize outside of work. We got along, Mike was nice, but I wanted things to remain professional.”
“And Mike didn’t?” the lead officer astutely guesses.
I cringe a little, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “I got the impression that Mike wanted us to be more…”
“More than colleagues?”
“Yes,” I admit.
“So he asked you out?” Detective Brookes asks, leaning back slightly in his chair.
“Yes. He would occasionally invite me out for drinks after work.”
“But you refused?” Detective Simon suggests.
I shake my head. “Not always. If others were going, I would sometimes join, but I made my excuses if it was just going to be the two of us. I liked Mike, but not in that way. I wanted to keep things professional.”
Detective Brookes nods, seemingly satisfied. “When was the last time you saw Mike?”
“We worked the late shift together the night he was…” I can’t bring myself to say the words.
The detective nods. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen that day?”
“Yes. Mike walked me home.”
“And that was unusual? He didn’t normally?”
“No, he didn’t. It was the first time he ever walked me home.”
“Why did he walk you home that night?” Detective Brookes asks, fixing me with a curious gaze.
“He told me there’d been reports of a strange man hanging around outside the library and he wanted to make sure I got home safely.
” I hope I haven’t made a mistake by not mentioning the conversation between Max and Mike.
No one else was working then, and I doubt they’ve tracked down the customers who were there that night, and even if they did, I could claim it was a normal conversation.
“How did Mike seem that night? What did you talk about on the walk home?”
“He seemed normal. We talked about books, and he mentioned a story he was writing.”
“So nothing unusual happened on your walk home?”
I shake my head, “No.”
“What happened when you reached your apartment, did he come inside?”
“Yes, he came inside briefly to use my bathroom, and he stayed for a cup of tea. It seemed polite to offer it considering he’d gone to the effort of walking me home.
He didn’t stay long. I thanked him for walking me home and said I was going to go to bed, so he left.
” If things get bad and they look for his fingerprints or DNA in my apartment, I want to have a reasonable explanation for it, and this is the best I can think of.
“What time did he leave your apartment?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe around eleven?”
“Did he say where he might be going afterward or mention any plans?”
“No, and I didn’t ask. I assumed he was going home,” I reply truthfully. Despite the fact I know now who killed Mike, I certainly didn’t expect him to be killed that night.
“Did you ever notice or suspect that Mr. Thomas may have been a drug user?”
“He smoked marijuana on occasion, but I wasn’t under the impression that he had a problem. If he did heavier drugs. I was unaware. I didn’t think he had much of a social life outside of work.”
“What makes you say that?” Detective Simon asks curiously.
“He seemed lonely. He didn’t mention any friends, and when we talked about what we’d done on our days off, he never had much to say.”
“Did Mr. Thomas ever make any unwanted or inappropriate sexual advances toward you?” Detective Brookes asks, catching me off guard.
“Um, what makes you say that?” I reply, flustered.
“Please, just answer the question, Miss Adams,” Detective Simon says calmly with a gentle encouraging smile.
“Like I said, I got the impression he was interested in me and he asked me out, but I always said no.”
“Yet you let him walk you home that night.”
“I had no reason to feel unsafe with him,” I reply tersely.
“And he didn’t make any advances toward you once you got home?”
“Nothing that I couldn’t handle. I politely but firmly made it clear I wasn’t interested. Why are you asking me this?”
The men share a look before Detective Brookes speaks. “We found some illegal substances during our search of Mr. Thomas’s home, roofies, to be specific, and there were some allegations of sexual assault made against him while he was in college.”
“I had no idea,” I reply, shocked.
I feel sick. I don’t know why I’m surprised that Mike was accused of sexual assault or was in possession of a date rape drug, after all, he attacked me.
But somehow it hadn’t occurred to me that he might have done it before, that I was in any real danger from him, or that it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing.
My genuine shock is enough to convince the detectives I’m not hiding anything as they don’t push the matter further.
“Is there anything else you would like to share with us that you think might be useful to us in our investigation?” Detective Brookes asks.
“No, sorry. Do you have any suspects?” I can’t resist asking.
“We’re still exploring every avenue, but we’re currently operating under the assumption this was perhaps a drug deal gone wrong or a gang-affiliated attack. Did Mike ever mention the names Tony, T-dawg, or Danky to you?”
“No, never. Who are they?”
“They’re aliases for the same man. We believe Mike purchased marijuana and other substances from him. He’s wanted for questioning.”
“I can’t believe Mike had this hidden dark side. He always seemed so nice and normal. A bit of a loner, but not someone who was mixed up in illegal activities,” I say, voicing my thoughts out loud.
“Everyone has secrets. The truth has a way of coming out eventually,” Detective Brookes says sagely.
Thankfully, Mike’s secrets have led the police in the wrong direction, away from his true killer and the secrets I’m hiding.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Adams, that will be all for now. If you think of anything else that might be useful for us to know, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to give us a call,” Detective Brookes says, handing me a card.
“I will, thank you,” I reply, taking it.
He gives me a fatherly smile that suggests he’s thinking I had a lucky escape from Mike. That he was the most dangerous one out of the two of us. I might have had a narrow escape from Mike’s dark intentions, but with my dark guardian angel looking out for me, I’m not the prey everyone thinks I am.