4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Laney

A lthough I may come off like I can drink my da under the table, I pay for it dearly the next day, and today is no exception. As I stand in my kitchen, sucking down an Advil, and da’s hangover remedy, which consists of raw eggs, lemonade, Tobasco sauce, and an entire bottle of Gatorade, I scroll through my phone, and I have to blink twice. “Shit.” The first person I call is Brandy, since, well, she’s usually in the know about way more than me, so it’s sometimes a race for us to call each other.

“Did you see it?” She asks, voice dripping with satisfaction, without so much as a hello.

“I did. Holy shit.”

Plain as day, sure, it’s an article from some rag, but it states that Caleb Harris has been held for questioning in a murder investigation. It also states that Chas Ford is being detained as a person of interest in the same investigation.

“Who’s the chick?” I ask, checking out the photo of the dearly departed, clad in a cheap Armani suit and knockoff Manolo Blahniks. Her bottled-blonde hair is iron-straightened and tied back so tightly, she wouldn’t have needed a facelift for years.

“No idea. Probably his latest conquest.” Brandy states, unimpressed. “Maybe that’s really the reason why he was at the bar last night.”

“I don’t think so. He could pick any bar and he picked the one that I was at? Not buying it. He didn’t kill her.”

She laughs out loud. “How would you know!”

“Why would he risk everything for a slut like that? Think about it.”

“Maybe she threatened his billions.” I can almost hear her shrug.

“Do you know how many people do that?” I snort. “He’d be a goddamn serial killer.”

“True. But, still. You don’t think he did it?”

I frown. “Na. He doesn’t have that vibe. I would have picked up on that straight away.”

“Maybe it was a crime of passion. Fucked her brains out or something.”

“It says her throat was slashed, Brandy. Last time I checked, people generally don’t cut each other’s throats for pleasure. Maybe a little choking, but no cutting.”

“I wonder how he’s even being detained. I mean, I’m sure he can buy his way out of that, can’t he? He’s probably got the world’s best attorneys at the ready with his wallet.”

“Maybe he didn’t pay them enough of a retainer to be on call twenty-four-seven.”

“That’s bullshit. They’ve got a team of lawyers at the ready, if they have any brains at all, and I know that they do.”

“Why, because Caleb’s da wants you and him to marry?”

“Well, although I hate the son of a bitch, in an ideal world, it would be the perfect scenario. And quit changing the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject. We’re justifying whether or not they have the brains and/or power to dig themselves out of a murder investigation.”

I take another sip of hangover remedy and wince. “He didn’t do it. But I’m not going to stand on the jury defending him, I’m just saying that he’s not the murdering type. If he really wanted her dead, he would have hired someone to do the dirty work and hired a team of people to hide his tracks.”

“So, you’re saying that it’s possible he didn’t actually do it, but that he’s behind it.” Brandy clarifies.

“Exactly.”

“Well, what would be his motivation?”

“I’m pretty sure if he’s connected to the Ford pretty boys, then he did it to help them out.”

“Why would he do that?”

“To protect his investment.”

“And why wouldn’t they just hire someone to off her?”

“Because they were too busy trying to skulk their way out of the paternity suit. I don’t think that they’d go that far. To have her killed. Their attorney hadn’t even finished ironing out all the details as far as I know.”

“You make my head spin sometimes, you know that?”

I chuckle. “Why?”

“God, Laney, do you know their preference in briefs? Perhaps the name of a childhood pet? My God, where do you find the time to stay on top of all this shit?”

“Don’t patronize me.” I tell her, bored. “It’s part of the process, Brandy, and you know it as well as I do. Nobody goes to bed with anyone in this business unless you know everything and anything there is to know about a person.”

“If that’s the case, how come you didn’t already know about Dougall Harris’s plan to marry you and Caleb up?”

“That’s about the only sacred ground. What they say to each other.” I explain. “Anything they say in public or otherwise is fair game. It’s common knowledge that anyone with our kind of bread would have eyes on everything.”

“It’s creepy if you ask me.”

“Please. Like you don’t keep tabs on people.”

“Only on my ex, and I don’t even have to do that anymore.”

“Then you’re a fool. With all the money you have. Don’t come crying to me if you get rolled.”

She snorts, unconvinced. “Don’t think I haven’t already. Look at the goddamn alimony I had to give to my scum-sucking ex-husband.”

“Well, again, that’s your stupidity. With your income, you should have had a prenuptial agreement.”

“What are you? The billionaire rule book?” She whines, unimpressed and irritated.

“I figured all the years we’ve been friends that something would have rubbed off on you.”

She sighs. I sigh. We giggle a bit. “You’ve got to find out what’s going on with this murder investigation, Laney. God, I hate to admit it, but without Kurt and all his drama, I kind of miss it all.”

“What do you want me to do? Go down to the police station and ask him?”

She pauses.

“You’re not fucking serious. Why would I do that? Caleb will think I’m insane. And it is…insane. Especially after I just ate him for breakfast not twelve hours ago. God, my head still hurts from last night.”

“Tell me you’re not dying to go over there. At least to rub it in.” She snaps her fingers together. “Hey, that could be your alibi. Your reason for being there. To torture him.”

“Do you honestly think that they’ll even let me in to see him? What for?”

“Laney, he’s only being held for questioning. He’s not under arrest. You read that for yourself. You could go down there and play your ‘friend’ card to get in. Say you’re there for moral support.”

Another sigh, this time an indignant one. “Brandy, do you honestly think that I have that kind of time? I have a meeting with my da at ten o’clock, and it’s already eight-thirty.”

“Which leaves you plenty of time.” She points out.

“You’re not serious. Come on. This is borderline obsessive. It’s also going to give Caleb the wrong impression.”

“Not if you come off like a total bitch. I know you can handle that. You did a fantastic job last night.”

She knows how to soften me up. Push my buttons. I hate that. “Fine. I’ll send one of my suits down to grill him.”

“Why a suit? They won’t get in for sure, Laney. Plus, do you think Caleb will see them? I doubt it. That boy is going to have his back up for everything and everybody. Hell, his suits will be working overtime, watching every being that enters or leaves during his stay.”

“Brandy, seriously. He’s just there for questioning. With my luck he’ll be gone by the time I get there. I mean, how long does it take to question a guy on murder charges?”

“One of the articles I read said that they’re holding both Caleb and Chas because of some sort of evidence.” She pauses, and hisses. “Hey, find out what that is, too!”

“God, I’m done talking now, Brandy. I’ll go down there and talk to him, but I’m not a fucking suspect, and the way that you want me sniffing around, I might as well be.” As I’m about to hang up on her, she says quickly, getting the comment in there fast. “Fuck him in the interrogation room.”

I roll my eyes as I disconnect. Down the hatch the rest of my hangover remedy goes, as I walk to the shower, step in, and proceed to drink more water than I wash with. I manage a healthy pee with a good stream before leaving, thinking that if I’m dehydrated, I may faint, rather than pull off the attitude that I want to pull off. As the voice inside my head continually screams for me not to do this, I mentally slap myself for listening to Brandy. But it’s tough not to, since if this turns out to be a stupid move, thanks to my best friend, it would be a first. Da’s inside my head, shaking his head, trying to figure out how I can be so dumb by all but caving to what can only be described as a dare. Nonetheless, I dress in my power suit, complete with a blouse underneath a double-breasted jacket, that reveals only a respectable amount of cleavage.

And I’m off. Not sure if I’m still half-drunk from last night or if I’m just drunk on the power vested in me sheerly by what I do for a living. The inherent confidence usually serves me well, but sometimes it’s questionable. Once I arrive at the police station, I go straight to reception and ask to see Caleb Harris, and surprisingly, the woman lets me go see him. I’m thinking that with the power suit and the business card, which she clearly didn’t pay much mind to, that she thinks I’m either a lawyer or a psychologist. Either that or Caleb paid her off so that he can see any visitor. Anything is possible.

He’s sitting in a room alone, drinking a coffee, stupidly, and I have to scoff as I enter, as he sits in the same clothes he was wearing the last time I saw him at the bar. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a lawyer.”

His face says that he’s not in the mood. “Why? You want to represent me? Or perhaps recommend one that’ll defend me so well I get put behind bars?” He pauses, scraping a hand down his face. “What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?”

“I heard you were here.”

“So? Why the fuck do you care? You’ve made it clear that you’d spit on the ground I walk on.”

“Maybe so, but I have a curious friend who wants me to get the dirt on you.”

“And you figured I’d cave and tell you? Why would I do that?”

I ignore him. “So, did you kill her?”

He gives me a look I can’t decipher. “Laney, I can walk out of here of my free will, and I’ve been patient for the last eight hours. Don’t make me walk out of here on account of your stinking presence.”

“That’s bullshit. If you could walk out of here, why wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not under arrest, counsellor. I’m staying here in good faith, while they run fingerprints on the murder weapon.”

“Don’t you have an alibi? When was this slut killed, exactly?”

“I’m sure you know that already, seeing as you knew I was here. Don’t play coy with me, Laney.”

I walk towards him, away from the door, looking at the cheap watercolor portraits of trees and bicycles hanging on the shabby walls. Caleb sits on a couch that looks like it’s circa nineteen seventy-five, with wooden armrests and torn leather. The stuffing is hanging out of one side so badly if someone sat down aggressively, it would fall out like someone squeezing a tube of toothpaste. “I assume by your lax answer that you don’t have an alibi.”

He sighs and sinks back further into the couch. “She’s not willing to corroborate on account that her husband will find out.”

I look at him, disgusted. “You’re a fucking pig.”

“I’m an honest one, at least.” He combs a hand through his dirty hair. “Besides, why the fuck do you care.”

“I don’t care. I’m just shocked that you’d admit to sleeping with a married woman.”

“More so than if I admitted to murder?” He asks, and I can tell that he’s growing short on patience, which is exactly what I’m going for.

“Are you admitting to murder?”

He lets out a long breath of air. “What do you want, Laney.” He says, rubbing his eyes. “I’m surprised that bitch let you in.”

“You said that you aren’t being detained. You’re free to have whatever guest in here that you want. Frankly, I’m surprised that your attorney isn’t present.”

“She was here earlier, in case you’re keeping score. In fact, now that I think about it, that’s probably why you were let in.” He looks me up and down, matter-of-factly. “You’re wearing the same goddamn suit that she’s wearing.”

I don’t know whether to be insulted or to laugh. So, I just guffaw and take a seat on the couch, on the opposite end. “So, what happened?” I ask in the most insinuating tone, contempt laced all over. “Did you fuck her and then slice her throat, or was that all part of the act?”

He draws in another breath, cupping his face with his hands, and he speaks on exhale. “Sure, Laney. I fucked her brains out, right after Chas did, only I didn’t know that she’d been with Chas, and in a fit of jealous rage, I offed her with my hunting knife.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Only I don’t hunt, except for when I’m in Scotland, and I don’t have a hunting knife here. I also don’t use a knife when I’m hunting, I use a rifle. Anything else you want to know, Laney? My lady lawyer, your twin, will be back here any second, so why don’t you toddle off and go find someone else to harass?”

“Is that what you told your lady lawyer?” I tease. “And why did she leave you, huh? To go take a shower?”

He looks at me like I just called his da a cocksucker. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Why do you keep dodging my questions?” I say with a mirthless smile.

“Why do I need to answer to you, anyway? It’s none of your fucking business, and frankly, this is harassment. Why don’t you go pick on Chas? He’s a billionaire, too, man, and he could have offed her just as easily as I could have.”

I lean back and speak conversationally, letting my shoe bounce off the end of my toe. “Chas isn’t the murdering type. Those Ford boys are too pretty. He wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty.”

“I think you’re wrong about that, Laney.”

I look at him. “What am I wrong about?”

“Everything.”

“And the vaguest answer of the year award goes to…”

He looks at me. “I don’t have to answer to you, Laney.” His eyes scan me, down my shirt, to my breasts, giving me a thrill, when those types of glances from men don’t usually make me squirm. Suddenly I feel empowered. Like my sexuality really does carry some clout here. I almost chide myself for thinking this, but the odd sensation can’t be helped. I never noticed how fucking sexy Caleb Harris is, and I hate myself for even noticing it. What’s worse is he’s dirty, and still smells sickly sweet from drinking last night, but that only adds fuel to the flame that starts burning inside me. Trying to avert my gaze to hide it from him, I look away, but it’s too late. His voice is low, sultry, when he speaks. “You really don’t hate me as much as you make like you do, do you, Laney.”

What happens next questions every moral fiber in my body.