I look back and forth between the officers then down to Chloe.
At least she has the humanity to looked appalled by what her mother and the officers expect me to do. I shake my head in disbelief. I mean, I knew she would never forgive me for the things my mother did to her personally, but I just handed her fifteen billion dollars, and she knew her son wanted to be with me. How heartless of a woman could she be?
One who trapped a man into a loveless marriage when she was only fifteen. Someone who was never going to let her son be with me.
“Ms. Radcliffe, at your earliest convenience, we’d like to ask you a few questions, down at the station,” the taller officer says gruffly. Down at the station? Margaret Montgomery gets a nice little alcove in the hospital, allowed to wait for news of her son, and I have to go down to the station like I’m a suspect in this mess. Oh, dear sweet baby Jesus. I dart my eyes to Margaret. What the hell did she tell these police officers?
She’s a conniving, vindictive woman. She seduced and manipulated a twenty-year-old when she was only fifteen and got herself pregnant for his money. What the hell could she do to me to make sure she keeps that money?
“Yes, of course I’ll go down to the station.” I tighten my bag to my chest and back away. “I’ll go straight from here. If—” I look down at Chloe, her eyes are full of tears, “if you hear anything, can you call the station? Let me know?”
“I’m sure we’ll be too busy to call the police station, Claire.” Margaret sighs loudly. “I’m sure my family’s tragedy will be breaking news today. You can watch it on television like everyone else, and allow my family some privacy.”
There are so many curse words I want to scream in this woman’s face, but I bite down on my tongue to stop myself.
“How about we give you a ride?” one of the officers offers.
“Sure. That would be lovely,” I lie. And without saying another word to the Montgomerys, I walk out of the hospital doors with two police officers trailing behind me.
I’m grateful they aren’t handcuffing me in front of Margaret and Chloe. The smug expression on her face would have killed me dead.
The officers escort me to a squad car, and I’m surprised when they open the door for me and allow me to sit in the car without restraints. I’m even more taken aback when we arrive at the precinct, and I’m offered a warm cup of fresh coffee and some chocolate chip cookies.
I’m led to a small gray room furnished with one small table and three chairs.
I drink my coffee and nibble at the cookies while I wait to be questioned.
I don’t have to wait long.
The door swings open almost immediately and a tall, unbelievably good-looking muscular man walks in. He has a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a legal pad in the other. “Miss Radcliffe? Hello, I’m Detective Fury.” He swivels around and another handsome man walks in behind him. “This is my partner Detective Cage.”
I stare at them awkwardly and break out into a cold sweat. Fury and Cage, sounds like a good idea for a steamy book series full of sexy men in uniform.
“Have you heard anything from the hospital? Anything about Vaughn?” I blurt out.
Both detectives shake their heads. “No, I’m sorry,” Detective Fury says in a gentle voice. “That was the twenty-five-year-old male victim that was brought to the hospital, Vaughn Montgomery, correct?”
I nod sadly.
“Okay, if you can, why don’t you start from the beginning,” Detective Fury says, sitting in the chair across from me.
My mouth goes dry and I take a sip of my coffee. “I guess the beginning would be when I was fifteen and walked in on my mother and billionaire Silas Montgomery having an affair.” I rub at the nape of my neck, my spine tingles. I feel a massive migraine coming on. “After the affair our families were at war. Then a few weeks ago, Silas Montgomery died of a heart attack, which left my mother so distraught she ended her life.”
This is where I start to cry.
I tap my fingers along the table and try to quell the emotional hurricane that’s been brewing inside me, but there’s no calmness to be found. “The minute I was called about my mother, I started receiving text messages from her phone. Each message demanded I go to her house—which I seriously had no idea she was living in—and find the offshore bank accounts that were her and Silas’s. If I didn’t do that, the caller said they would send images they made of me—I swear those are not really me doing those sexually explicit things—they were going to send them to my entire school. Parents, students, faculty.” I blink up at the detectives and shift uncomfortably in my chair. They probably saw the pictures. They both think they know what I look like naked.
I sip at my coffee trying not to vomit.
“Take your time,” Detective Cage says gently.
“Uh…So, I drove up to my mother’s place. Turns out it was a secret home she and Silas shared. They were still having the affair even after all these years. There were pictures of them all over the walls, smiling. Happy.” I shrug. “Maria Lowell was there when I arrived, she was Mr. Montgomery’s housekeeper. She knew about the affair, about everything. But she left me there because she was afraid to get stuck in the storm.” I take a long deep breath in and out.
“I tried looking for the accounts. Then Vaughn showed up. He was just as shocked about the house and the affair as I was. Then, um—” There’s no way I’m telling them we had sex. I mean, I don’t have to, right? “Anyway, there was a storm, and an avalanche, and we got stuck there, and when the weather calmed down, he called Matteo. They grew up together, we all did. He picked us up and dropped me home.”
The detectives looked at each other and back to me. “And how did this end with a homicide?”
“A…homicide?” I stammer. Who died? “You just told me you didn’t hear any news from the hospital! Vaughn’s dead? He’s dead?” I can’t breathe. I’m hyperventilating.
Detective Cage lays his hands flat on the table between us. “No, Miss Radcliffe, take a deep breath, we’re not talking about Vaughn Montgomery.”
“Then who are you talking about? Vaughn was the only one who Matteo shot. He was aiming for me, but Vaughn…he pushed me out of the way, he saved me.”
“And Paul Luger? What about him?”
I’m confused, and my pulse pounds in my temples. “Paul Luger is…is a colleague with me at St Maria’s. But what…what does Mr. Luger have to do with any of this?”
“His body was found, slumped over the steering wheel of his car, parked on the corner of your street.”
“Mr. Luger is…dead?”
“So is Willard Martin, the Montgomery’s butler. He was hit by a stray bullet to the back of the head in the Montgomery’s kitchen.”
“Who…who k-killed Paul? Did Matteo?” I stammer, trembling uncontrollably.
“We were hoping you could tell us why he might have been parked on your street today,” Detective Fury says, clicking his pen continuously.
“He came over yesterday, when the pictures of me were sent out. He…stayed over so I wasn’t alone. He accused me of sending out the photos myself, he didn’t believe me, so when I woke up in the morning and he was still there, I asked him to leave.”