Chapter 32

Ella

I was unpacking my bags when the doorbell rang. I ignored it, at first, assuming it was a door-to-door salesperson. We'd had a lot of them lately. When it rang again, I charged downstairs and flung open the door, prepared to send them on their way.

I panicked when two detectives had flashed their badges at me instead. I thought there'd been an accident, and gripped the front door frame so tightly I bent a fingernail back until one of them, Detective Ramirez, assured me they were just there to ask some questions regarding an investigation.

I invited her and her partner in, and we sat in the living room as they asked if I knew a woman named Starla Monroe.

"No, the name isn't familiar. Why?" I was mystified as to why they were here, until she continued questioning.

"She shortens her name to Star, from what I'm told," the detective prompted.

I nodded then, wondering what the hell the woman had done to land in the middle of a police investigation. "Yes, I do know Star, but I didn't realize that's who you were asking about. I've never heard her full name."

They went on to ask how I knew her, how long I'd known her, and whether I knew of any problems she had. I answered carefully, because something told me that this probably involved some kind of club business. I didn't want to lie to the police, but that didn't necessarily mean I needed to volunteer every bit of info I had, either.

Shit, I was starting to understand why knowing about club business might not be a good thing after all.

"Star works for a man I know. I don't know her well. I've only met her three times, briefly, and we didn't really talk much at all. I'm afraid I'm not going to be of much help."

"Can you tell me where you were Thursday night through Friday morning?"

I sat up straighter, as her questions took a more intimidating tone. "I was here from Thursday afternoon until about ten-thirty Friday morning. What is this about, exactly?" I asked warily. I tried not to panic as I wondered if this had anything to with that Pic guy, and the threats he'd made.

Detective Ramirez and her partner hurried to assure me that I was not suspected of anything, but that I had been mentioned as someone who might be able to assist their investigation.

I nodded slowly, trying to remember every true crime show I'd ever watched in order to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Can you elaborate on that, Ms. Chadwick? For instance, did you see anyone else during that time?"

I tried to think back as to who I might have seen. "I saw the neighbor across the street when I got home. She was out getting her mail, and we exchanged greetings. A man I'm seeing came over for dinner and spent the night, and I saw my neighbor next door around eight or so Friday morning, when I took over some food I'd made for him. I don't remember seeing anyone else."

"Can you give me the name of the man you're seeing, and the approximate times he was here?"

A lightbulb pinged on, and I suddenly realized they were trying to verify an alibi. Since I doubted it was for me, I assumed it was for Dante.

"His name is Dante Morgan." I was so flustered that I had trouble remembering what time he'd arrived Thursday night. I gave them his name, hoping to God that I wasn't screwing Dante over in the process.

"I can't remember exactly what time he got here Thursday, but he left between six-thirty and seven Friday morning," I answered quietly.

The detective nodded and wrote something in the notebook she carried. "It's important that we confirm the time of his arrival as closely as possible. Would you say he arrived before or after eleven o'clock?"

"Before."

"And did he leave at any point, even for a few minutes?"

"No," I answered firmly.

The detective studied me for a moment, then pressed a little. "How can you be so sure of that?"

I smiled faintly. "Detective, I'm a single mother of two teenagers. I sleep with one ear open, as the saying goes, and have for years. Dante was sound asleep next to me all night, I'm absolutely positive about that."

She made a few more notes, then thanked me for my time.

"Wait," I said as they stood up to leave. "Now that I've answered all of your questions, I'd like to know what you're investigating, exactly."

She paused and gave me a sympathetic smile. "Ms. Monroe was found dead Friday evening."

My heart stopped for a moment, then started pounding out of my chest. "What does that have to do with me, or Dante?"

"I'm sorry, but he was arrested earlier this evening and charged with her murder."

They let themselves out without another word as I sagged against the couch and started shaking uncontrollably. I was still shaking thirty minutes later when the doorbell rang again.

It was Pop, and I burst into tears right in the middle of the doorway. His arms enveloped me as he patted my back and told me everything was going to be all right.

"He didn't do it, Pop. There's no way Dante would do that, but they –"

"Calm down, darlin'. They know that now. You confirmed his alibi, and so did the doorbell camera across the street at the Kirschbaum place."

I looked confused, and he led me to the couch as he explained a little more. "From what we were able to find out from Abby's dad, Star was found Friday night, but the coroner says she was killed in the wee hours of Friday mornin'. My son was here with you, and Miriam's video proves it. They should be releasin' him soon, so I'm headin' over to pick him up."

I nodded numbly, trying to take it all in. I was horrified that Star had been killed, and equally horrified that Dante had been arrested for it.

Pop left after I assured him that I would be OK, even though I didn't think I would be unless I could see for myself that Dante was free.

I paced back and forth until I couldn't stand it anymore. In desperation, I stormed into the kitchen and started grabbing things from the pantry, starting with flour, sugar, and baking powder. I wasn't sure what I was going bake yet, but it was always a soothing activity and right now, I needed to be soothed, dammit.

I ordered my smart home device to play my favorite streaming station, then decided to start measuring the ingredients for my favorite brownies, which just so happened to be Dante's favorite as well. I screamed in frustration moments later as I realized I'd reversed the measurements for the sugar and the cocoa powder. I'd been making these fucking things for years, and could probably make them in my sleep, yet I couldn't focus.

I dumped the contents of the mixing bowl in the trash and started over. When I attempted to crack an egg and ended up dumping the yolk on the counter and dropping the entire shell into the bowl, I dropped my head as I slammed my hands on the counter and cursed. Loudly and creatively.

I heard a familiar chuckle, and then burst into tears as I raised my head and saw him standing in the doorway.

Dante rushed over and wrapped his arms around me, rocking me in his arms as I clutched him tightly and sobbed against his chest.

"It's OK, sugar. I promise you. It's all over with," he soothed, pressing soft kisses on the top of my head.

I breathed him in, letting the scent that was uniquely Dante wash over me.

Eventually, we ended up in the living room, snuggled in the corner of the couch as Dante explained that the charges were dropped, and he was in the clear.

"They should never have arrested you in the first place. It's ridiculous to think that you would kill Star." I felt him tense and then he pulled away to look me in the eye.

"I didn't have anything to do with Star's death, but make no mistake about it, I would have killed the man who threatened you. Somebody else just beat me to it."

"Well, I'm glad they did. You're not a killer."

"What if I had killed Pic?" His voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear it.

"I would say that you did what you needed to do, but I would hate that you had to have that on your conscience."

"I know for a fact that my conscience wouldn't bother me for killing a man who hurt someone I love," he said solemnly.

I stared at him, and he met my gaze unflinchingly. "You want me to be honest, Ella? It didn't bother me at all. I've slept just fine these past few years."

I slowly nodded as I realized what he was telling me. I rested my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as I absorbed the truth. He was giving me the ultimate proof that he trusted me with his secrets.

Neither of us said anything for several long moments until I whispered, "You're a good brother, Dante." I think we both knew I wasn't referring to the MC brotherhood.

"Thank you, sugar." A few seconds later, he whispered. "She would have loved you because you don't take any shit. She didn't either."