Chapter 65
Chapter 65 Interrogation
Exining death to four years olds is almost as difficult as watching Ethan muddle through the next few
days in aplete fog, appearing more like a zombie than the man I know so well. Every time I tell the
pups that Petra is gone and won’t being back, the message only seems to sink in for a few hours.
Soon enough they’re asking me when they’re going to see Petra again, and I have to try to exin the
concept of permanence to four precious beings who simply cannot understand it.
Still, watching Ethan is harder. We got through all the nning and preparations for a massive state
funeral with great exhaustion and stress, but little emotion on his part. I keep waiting for him to break,
toe out of shock and grieve the way he needs to so desperately. It hasn’t happened yet, and I
merely pray that he will find the spark he needs before the funeral is over this afternoon.
Most of the day is a series of overly formal ceremonies and traditions, and I’m simply proud that the
pups get through hours of being on their feet in stuffy clothing without a tantrum. It’s not until we’re
traveling from the graveyard to the memorial service that they finally reach a breaking point, and I call
in Linda for some emergency babysitting. I n on staying with Ethan until thest mourner leaves the
service, but I’m on my way back from handing the kids over to my friend when the investigator from the
crime scene intercepts
It’s the same man who was at the hospital after the attack on
Paisley, and I greet him as warmly as I can, assuming he’s here to wish the family his condolences.
“Ms. Carrington, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asks, pulling me aside.
“Of course.” I agree, “do you need me to make another statement?”
Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.
“Actually I have some questions for you.” He answers, more gruffly than I would have expected. “Can
you do me a favor and refresh me on what your rtionship is with the Alpha?”
Something inside me tells me that this isn’t just another interview, and suddenly I’m painfully aware that
I didmit a few very real crimes when I faked my death and forged a new identity for myself. “Well,”
I say, taking a deep breath. “We used to be in a rtionship and now share our pups. I’m living with
him for the next few months as part of a… I guess you could call it a custody arrangement.”
“And Elise Carrington is your legal name?” The detective presses, “because forgive me for saying so,
but you bear a striking resemnce to the Alpha’s ex-wife his deceased ex-wife.”
–
Staring at the investigator long and hard, I decide to simply face this head on. “Look, how much trouble
am I in here? Ethan and I split on very unfortunate terms and I did what I felt was necessary to protect
myself.”
“I’m a homicide investigator.” He answers simply, pulling out a notebook and pen. “I don’t care about
forged papers and misdemeanors, what I do care about is whether or not you had a motive to kill Mrs.
ckwell.”
“Excuse me?” I gape. “I… are you saying I’m a suspect?”
“Well, you were thest one to see her alive -”
“Actually I think you’ll find her killer was thest one to see her alive.” I correct him.
“Thest person whom we are aware of, who saw her alive.” He amended, “and you found her body
and called in the crime.”
“Which I would not have done if I was guilty of it.” I grit out.
“But you do have a history of aggression towards the deceased, do you not?” He presses. “Mrs.
ckwell and Eve Mechante filed assault charges against Jane ckwell – and
that is you, is it not?”
“That was more than 6 years ago, and those charges were dropped.” I remind him.
“I understand that, ma’am.” He concedes, “but it stands to a history of conflict with the victim. Can you
please recount what happened on that asion for me?”
“You know I’m starting to think I need to have awyer for this conversation.” I state tightly, already
wondering if it’s bad form to call in two favors to Linda in one day.
“Why, do you have something to hide?” The investigator questions, eyeing me very sharply now.
“No, but I do have the right to protect myself from investigative negligence.” I snap. “Why have to
zeroed in on me for this? Ethan told youst night that Eve was the one
responsible for this.”
“Look Ms. ckwell, Ms. Carrington – whatever name you
won’t to go by today, it’s my job to explore all possibilities here. Now like it or not, this is the way it is:
the moment yourwyeres in here, I cease being able to help you. As long as it’s just you and me
talking, you can give me the information I need to eliminate you as a suspect, but I guarantee your
lawyer’s going to shut down our conversation like that.” He shares, snapping his fingers.
“So I’m just going to tell you how it looks from my end.” The increasingly infuriating detective continues.
“I’ve got a woman with a known history of violence towards the deceased. You broke thew to get
away from the ckwell family and are now in some sort of custody battle with the victim’s son. We’ ve
got Mrs. ckwell’s blood all over your clothes, which we found in a trash bag in the building’s trash
chutetest night, in addition to the fact that you “found the body.” And all this is happening while you
have a very convenient scapegoat on the loose, with whom you also have a negative history, but who
never had any conflicts with the victim.”
“What was that about my clothes?” I repeat, struggling to wrap my brain around this detail.
“Oh yes, we found the dress you were wearingst night, covered in blood, in the trash chute.” He
announces, offering me a toothy grin.
“What makes you think it’s my dress?” I demand.
“Because it has your name stitched into the dry cleaning tag.” He exins.
I don’t wait for any more information. “This interview is over. If you want to speak to me again, my
lawyer is going to be present.”
Lv.1
“That’s fine Ms. ckwell.” He smirks, “by all means, let’s do this the hard way.”
Storming back into the funeral home, my head begins to spin. It doesn’t take an idiot to see that Eve
could have pulled any one of my dresses from my closet to nt this so-called evidence, but suddenly
it’s bing a lot clearer what her motive for killing Petra was: the bitch wants to pin it on me so that
I’ll be out of the way and she can have Ethan for herself.
I charge back inside to look for Ethan and tell him what just happened, but when I get to the main
parlor, I don’t see him anywhere. I follow his scent into the back of the house, and when I catch sight of
him, I realize I can’t put this on his shoulders too – at least not now.
He’s seated alone on a bench just outside the back door, slumped over with his head in his hands.
Approaching warily, I rest a hand on his shoulder, “Ethan?”
He looks up at me with tears streaming down his rugged cheeks, “She’s gone.” He growls, “She’s really
gone.”
Without thinking about it for a moment, I move between his legs and wrap my arms around his burly
shoulders, letting him. press his face into my breast as his powerful armse around my body. “I
know.” I croon, feeling my own emotions welling up in concert with him. “I know, I’m so sorry.”
The only time I’ve seen Ethan shed a tear was the night of Paisleys’s surgery, but he spent most of that
nightforting me. It wasn’t like this. He didn’t even cry at his father’s funeral. He’s always been so
stoic and unshakable, like a mountain. But now he’s sobbing into my dress, and I feel helpless to take
away his pain. I can only hold him as he pours out his anguish.
And to think, a few nights ago I was telling Eric we needed things to calm down. It seems like every day
I stay in this city sends my family spiraling closer to disaster, but I can’t possibly cut the trip short now.
Ethan shouldn’t have to bear this tragedy alone. Whatever happened between us in the past – or even
between Petra and I – losing your mother is one of the hardest times in anyone’s life. I may not be able
to be his wife again, but I can be a friend.
Besides, the way things are going right now, there’s a good chance I won’t be physically able to leave
anyway. After all, murder suspects generally aren’t allowed to leave the territory.