I hoped this day would never come. Shit. I knew the argument I got into that morning with Cecelia would come back to haunt me—we had our conversation in the dining room and very publicly. I blew my top in frustration, and she knew that. She wasn’t mad at me. And never once did I threaten her.
Twenty minutes later, Damien arrives at my office. “Nice to meet you. I’m Damien Lewis.”
This is Gabby’s boyfriend? He’s older than I thought he’d be. I expected him to be in his late twenties, but he’s older by about a decade. He’s well dressed, and I believe he works for one of the more prominent criminal defense firms in the city.
I can’t sit. “Okay, the police have arrived to speak to me regarding Cecelia Lancaster’s murder. She and I had an ugly disagreement before she died, and I was in Las Vegas when she went missing—but I had absolutely nothing to do with her disappearance, and I adored the woman.”
He nods. “Let’s just listen to what they have to say. Only answer the questions the officers ask. Don’t give them any other information. For example, if one of the officers asks you if you have the time, you say yes. You don’t tell him the time—you were only asked if you had the time. I will cut them off as soon as they veer into waters I’m uncomfortable with.”
I nod. “Let’s get this taken care of.”
We take the elevator to the twelfth floor and join the officers in the conference room.
“Detectives, welcome to Soleil Energy. I’m Jackson Graham, and I understand you’d like to talk to me.” I turn to Damien. “This is my attorney, Damien Lewis.”
Damien steps forward and shakes their hands and hands them his card. “My client would have been happy to meet with you more promptly had you scheduled a time to speak to him.”
They introduce themselves, but I don’t hear what they say. The officers hand me cards that I slip into my pocket. They’re agitated that I made them wait.
Ms. Day is standing inside the door, waiting to be dismissed. “Would you care for any more beverages?” she asks.
“No, thank you,” they say in unison.
I shake my head at Ms. Day, and she closes the door behind her.
“We’re working on the Cecelia Lancaster murder,” the female detective says. “We understand your client had a disagreement with the deceased.”
All eyes are on me. It seems we’re jumping in at the deep end of the pool. “We did.”
They wait for me to expand, but I don’t.
“And what was it about?” the male detective asks.
“She was not a technology person, and I am, and we disagreed about technology,” I reply.
“Wasn’t it really more than that?” the female detective asks. “She fixed you up with a woman, and she was upset that you’d rejected her?” Her tone suggests she may have been jilted in a similar situation. Why waste your time with someone who’s clearly not your type?
“No. Our disagreement was about technology,” I say.
“But you did reject the friend she introduced you to?” she pushes.
“I did.”
“And why was that?” she asks.
I’ll be very direct, which I’m sure will be seen as offensive, but it’s also the truth. “Christina Daniels was looking for a wealthy husband, and I was not looking for a leach of a wife.”
“But that’s not really how it went down, though, is it?” the male officer asks.
“That’s how I saw it. Cecelia was disappointed, but she wasn’t angry. I’m sure the woman was a good friend of hers, but she was the type to be interested only in my bottom line.”
“You got Ms. Daniels pregnant, and she wanted you to make an honest woman of her.” Disdain drips from the female officer’s words.
My eyes must bulge. There is no fucking way I got her pregnant. “I didn’t get her pregnant.”
“Maybe she lied about being on the pill?” The male officer offers me a way out, but I know they probably have a noose on the other side of that offer. What they don’t realize is that I have a trump card.
“We did not consummate our relationship.” I’ve never been so satisfied with a statement, and Cecelia knew that was true. Thus, Christina is causing problems.
“Christina Daniels claims otherwise,” the female officer says.
“Excuse me, but my client would submit to paternity testing to prove any child Ms. Daniels is carrying isn’t his. Is that all you have?” Damien interjects.
The officers look disappointed, but not surprised, and quickly move on. “Tell us about the disagreement over technology.”
“They were developing a computer with a solar battery. My company, Soleil Energy, is a developer of alternative energy, and I believed they were given bad information. I tried to discuss it with her, but she believed I was wrong.”
“Were you wrong?” the male officer asks.
“No,” I answer.
“Christina Daniels claims to have lewd emails and texts from you,” the female officer throws in.
They’re trying to get me to say something I’ll regret. Instead, I sit quietly, as I’ve been instructed. She didn’t ask a question.
“Do you have a response?” she finally asks.
“Detective, you didn’t ask a question,” Damien reminds her.
“Did you send Ms. Daniels’ lewd emails or text messages?”
I can hear the frustration in her voice. I hope this doesn’t work against me being seen as a cooperative witness. I also know they must be under a tremendous amount of pressure to get this case solved. But this is amateur hour, and I have more faith in Jim’s team finding the culprit than I do in Frick and Frack sitting in front of me.
“I can’t be sure.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Why not? Do you send lewd emails and text
