“Not yet. That’s what we were hoping to talk to you about.”
Davenport took out a pad of paper. “Do you have any enemies?”
Grayson laughed and immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. “Of course. I’m a North Carolina State Senator. A lot of people hate me.”
“Do you have a list of your most vicious contrarians?”
“I can send it to you.” The entire room looked at Anastasia when she spoke. She was wearing blood-red again, but she had kept her nails black. Grayson hadn’t noticed when she’d picked up her tablet again. “I have a list of about twenty who have caused serious problems, but I have additional names if you need them.”
“Appreciate it.” Davenport let his eyes linger on her for a few more seconds before turning back to Grayson. “Did your son have enemies?”
“Not that I am aware of, but I’m sure you’re familiar with the headlines, Detective. He’s gotten into some trouble in the past.”
“Drugs and hacking,” Davenport said, and Grayson wasn’t sure if it was for clarification or to inform his colleagues. “He didn’t talk to you about any recent trouble he might have gotten into?”
“We weren’t on the best of terms.” Grayson hated the way all three of them seemed to take a mental note of that information. “He didn’t confide in me.”
“Would he have confided in your wife?”
“I doubt it.” He shook his head. “But I can’t be sure.”
Agent Viotto spoke for the first time. His voice was deeper than expected, given his lean frame and boyish looks. “Could you tell us more about your relationship with your son? Did you have any recent arguments?”
“Am I a suspect?”
“At the moment? No, sir.” Viotto’s tone indicated Grayson shouldn’t get comfortable. “We need to collect as much information as possible about the last few days. If you and your son had a disagreement, it might explain where we found him and why he was there.”
Grayson closed his eyes. He had pushed the memory out of his mind, and it took a moment to recall the exact circumstances. “His mother found coke in his room. It wasn’t the first time. She wasn’t sure how to confront him about it. I lost my temper. It’s not a moment I’m proud of. I went up to his room and started tearing it apart. I told him things would have to change. He could clean up his act or he could get out. He chose the latter.”
“Is that the last you saw him?” Davenport asked.
“No, he came back the next day, apologizing and telling me he’d do better. I didn’t believe him.”
“Why not?”
“It was too easy. He never apologizes. And he’s never begged for my forgiveness.”
“Did he seem afraid?” Viotto asked. “Could that be why he was acting strange?”
“No, not afraid.” Grayson searched for the right word. “His apology seemed practiced. I felt like he had an angle, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“I’m sorry?”
Viotto shrugged. “Did you forgive him?”
Grayson’s mouth went dry. “No, I didn’t.”
Mannis must’ve caught the look on Grayson’s face because he cleared his throat. “I think what my partner wants to know is whether you let him come home. Did he stay the night?”
“Yeah.” Grayson swallowed. “Yes. He left by morning. I didn’t think much of it. I figured I’d see him again that night.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No.”
“Were you worried?” Viotto asked.
Grayson knew the man was just doing his job, but he didn’t enjoy feeling as though he were in the hot seat. “Not particularly. Connor came and went as he pleased. We’d done everything to get him to fall in line—bribes, begging, asking my security team to babysit him. Nothing worked. We gave him space, but he ended up getting into more trouble.”
“Mr. Murphy told us Connor was in Rock Hill the night before he went missing. Do you know why?”
Grayson shook his head. “Maybe visiting friends? I’m not sure. Like I said, he didn’t confide in me.”
There was a lull in the conversation, and the three officers exchanged looks. Davenport was the first to stand. “Do you mind if we look at your son’s room?”
Grayson matched his movements. “What for?”
“Anything that could indicate who did this to him. We’re still in the preliminary stages of the investigation.”
“Any piece of evidence helps,” Viotto added. He and Mannis stood, too.
Grayson’s heart pounded. “Not today, gentlemen. I’m sorry.”
The room froze. Even Anastasia looked up.
“Sir, it’s important that we gather as much evidence as quickly as possible in order to solve your son’s case.”
“I am aware, thank you.” Grayson buttoned his suit jacket. It felt akin to donning armor. “But right now, I have to go upstairs and tell my wife that our only child is dead. We need time to mourn. I’ll make sure his room is not disturbed.”
“Sir—”
“Do you have a search warrant?” Grayson looked directly at Viotto, channeling some of his ire at the younger man.
“Not yet.” The words sounded foreboding.
“Then I kindly ask that you leave. You can return later tonight with your warrant or tomorrow morning with my permission. I’ll leave that up to you. Murphy?” The man materialized in the doorway. “See them out, please. Make sure Ms. Bolton finds her way home, as well.”
Grayson didn’t bother looking to see Anastasia’s reaction. He’d deal with the repercussions of dismissing her tomorrow.
Instead, he walked through the foyer and up the stairs, knowing he was about to destroy his wife’s entire world.
16
Cassie found Laura in the guest bedroom, cross-legged on the bed and bent over her phone. Her sister looked up with red eyes when Cassie knocked on the doorframe.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled. “Spending the last couple of hours doing a deep dive into the life of a murdered child isn’t fun.”
“Understandable.”
“How was the hospital?”
“Mostly fine.” When Laura quirked an eyebrow, Cassie settled in next to her. “Mom’s tests went fine. We’ll find out in a day or two if everything is normal. If so, the surgery is officially a go.”
“That’s good, but scary. Did Mom
