There was a dreaded feeling in her chest as they made their way to the private airstrip. Lucas didn’t say anything after last night’s conversation in the living room. In fact, he hardly said anything at all. Sure, they had sex the night before, but there was something different about him. He was almost primal and ruthless about it. How he held on to her a little tighter, moving tirelessly as he coaxed orgasm after orgasm from her before he eventually let go and found his own release.
They had said their goodbyes to everyone and were soon on their way back to New York. In no time at all, they were landing in the small airstrip outside Jersey City. Zac and Astrid took their own car back to Manhattan, while Lucas led her to the waiting town car on the tarmac.
“Hello, Reyes,” she greeted the bodyguard as he opened the door for them.
“Hello, Detective. Sorry about the other night,” he said sheepishly.
“It’s okay, you were only doing your job.” She flashed him a smile as she slid into the car, Lucas following her. He moved closer to her and threaded his fingers through hers, though they remained silent even as the car began to move. He didn’t feel mad to her, but he certainly had a lot on his mind. She was about to open her mouth when a series of beeps stopped her.
“Sorry,” Lucas said, taking his phone out of his pocket. “I just turned it on. I must have a hundred messages.” He unlocked his phone and began to scroll through them.
Sofia sat quietly, looking out the window. Lucas was busy tapping out messages on his phone and making short calls. However, he didn’t let go of her hand the entire time. That’s why, when his fingers suddenly squeezed tight, she let out a pained yelp and yanked her hand away.
“Lucas?” She rubbed her fingers. “What’s wrong?”
He had his phone held up to his ear, his face a stony mask. A tick in his jaw pulsed and he slowly put the phone down to his lap. “You talked to Caroline.”
The words hung between them like a precarious tightrope walker. What could she say except the truth? “I did.”
“How long ago?”
“That night I came to apologize.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me since then?”
She flinched inwardly but didn’t show it on her face. “Does it matter now?”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” His tone was barely restrained.
“Shouldn’t have—” She grit her teeth. “I was doing my job, my due diligence.” She sucked in a deep breath, but it didn’t calm her. “I already know what happened now, so does it matter? Is there a reason why you didn’t want me to talk to your beautiful, perfect Caroline? Was what you told me really the truth?” Yes, Lucas had said he loved her, but in Sofia’s mind, he loved Caroline first. And that made jealousy burn through her, despite her logical brain telling her it was unwarranted.
His brows snapped together. “It doesn’t matter what I felt for her before. I—” He stopped suddenly. “We’re here,” he said, nodding at the window. They were outside his townhouse. His eyes darted to Reyes and the driver. “We should continue this inside.”
“I will not—”
But he turned toward his door, yanked on the handle, and pushed it open. She should have known. Part of her realized she should have told him about calling Caroline, but so many things had happened since then; that insignificant call seemed like a million years ago. “Lucas!” she called after him as she slid across the leather seats. She scrambled to her feet. He was already halfway to his door. “Lucas! Will you—”
“Lucas Anderson, you’re under arrest for the murder of Alfie Fraser.”
She froze, unwilling to believe what was happening was real. It was like a horror movie, one she couldn’t turn away from. A cop car had pulled in behind them, along with two other unmarked cars. Two uniformed officers were approaching Lucas as he stood on the sidewalk. One of them was already taking out his handcuffs. “Stop!” She rushed over to them, but they blocked her way. “What are you doing?
She turned around and saw Captain Bushnell and Henry Sharpe walking toward her. “Captain! Thank God you’re here. Please tell the officers they’ve made a mistake.”
“Detective Selinofoto!” Bushnell’s brown eyes were almost gleeful. “Good job on this one.”
“Good job?” She looked at Sharpe. His face was drawn into a serious expression. “Detective?”
“Your work was exceptional, as always.” Bushnell patted her on the back. “If it wasn’t for the way you put all the pieces of the puzzle together, we wouldn’t have figured out that Anderson killed Fraser.”
It was at that moment, the officers turned Lucas around to face them, his hands cuffed behind him. His mismatched eyes burned with fury and were directed at her.
“No!” she cried. “Lucas, I—”
“No need to be modest,” Bushnell said.
Helplessness overwhelmed her as she watched the officers put Lucas in the back of the cop car. “Sir, I told you, I suspected someone is trying to frame him. He has an alibi.”
“Not for the night of Frazer’s murder.”
“What? He was with me.”
“Frazer wasn’t killed that night,” the captain said. “But the night before.”
No. She looked at Sharpe. “Detective?”
“Lab confirms it,” he said in a gravelly voice. “As did the blood on the shirt we found. We traced the shirt back to Anderson.”
“This can’t be!”
The cop car roared to life and then drove away. Lucas. This wasn’t true. She didn’t believe it. Whoever was trying to frame Lucas had succeeded. She should have warned him!
“We might also get him for Dixon,” Bushnell added. “We have a witness who can destroy both his alibis. He says he was overcome with guilt, and he told us that not only did his security team lie about Anderson staying home that night but also made sure he was alone the night of
