four
“So bitch… what you’re saying is, you’re cursed. I mean… that’s really what this all boils down to,” Nubia said, shaking her head before she picked up the wine in front of her and drained the glass.
I followed suit, emptying my glass down my throat, even shaking it to make sure I got every last drop.
God knows I needed it.
Across the table from me, Kora shot a glare in Nubia’s direction, and must’ve kicked her under the table, based on the yelp that Nubia let out. “You realize you don’t have to say every little thing that comes to mind, right? How is that helpful?”
“Uh, Monica appreciates my candor. Don’t you, Mon?” Nubia asked.
I nodded. “Actually, Kora, I do. And hell… I agree. My entire world has tumbled upside down in a damned week. I’m just trying to figure out exactly what type of karma this is. Who did I fuck with in a past life that it’s come down to this?”
“Will you cut it with the karma stuff?” Chloe asked, rolling her eyes. “You haven’t done anything to anyone, and this is not karma.”
I chuckled, then reached over our tapas plates for the bottle of wine in the middle of the table. “Fine. Voodoo then. Santeria. Witchcraft. Something. The ancestors or some-fucking-body with some magical mythical something are not pleased with me.”
“It’s just life,” Blake said, shaking her head. “Just a valley.”
“Well, can a bitch get an airlift out of here?” I asked, spurring laughter around the table. After a moment, I laughed too, giving in to the generally good vibe of being with my girlfriends.
It was necessary.
Even though I was semi-homeless at the moment, with my house being processed as a crime scene, I’d kept my word and come out on this “date” with my girls. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until we’d all sat down, passing around bottles of wine and plates of appetizers.
I needed it bad.
Because of whatever favor Renata called in, Detective Sam Turner and his partner, Tonya Velez, were the only law enforcement I’d actually had to interact with. They showed up in a plain car to take my statement, about the break-in and the hacking, and then gave me time to put together a bag and leave before the uniformed officers showed up to do whatever they needed to do.
It was a minor blessing, considering everything that was going on. And no matter what Kora or Blake or Chloe said, this didn’t feel like “life happening”. It felt insidious, and the shit was terrifying. Especially when I was helpless to stop it, because I had no idea what was going on.
“Seriously though,” Nubia said, reaching to grab my hand. “I really hope the police figure all of this out for you, because it’s nuts. I mean… the smashed flowers? That made my skin crawl.”
I took a sip of my freshly poured wine. “Girl, who are you telling? I honestly feel like it’s worse than the break-in. I’m allergic to roses. That shit was personal.”
“So… who do you think is doing this? And why?” Kora asked, leaning in.
I shrugged. “Who knows? Probably Kellen or one of his whores, or Kellen and one of his whores. I’m so fucking sick of that man. I wouldn’t put it past him to concoct all of this, after I told him yesterday I was done with his ass.”
“Really?” Chloe chimed in. “You’re finally going to pursue the divorce?”
“What choice do I have?” I tipped my head back, staring up at the ceiling as I continued. “I can’t keep letting him use me, my name, my connections, my money, while he blatantly disrespects me. It’s time for it to stop.”
Kora groaned. “So you’re really going to give up half your business for that bastard?”
“Not if I can help it,” I answered. “Before, I was told that there was no way around it, and I just… accepted it. I started the business after we were married, so if we divorce, he has a legal claim. As long as he just left me the hell alone and did his dirt quietly, I was content to ignore him, just for the sake of keeping the peace… and keeping my business. But now? Fuck that. I am going to hire the best, most ruthless lawyer that I can afford, and we are going to make it our mission to leave him with as close to nothing as possible.”
Beside me, Nubia moaned. “Oh, please keep talking, I think I might cum.”
“You’re so damned silly,” I laughed, slapping her hand when she raised it for a high five.
“Crudeness aside, Nubia is right,” Kora said, and Chloe and Blake nodded.
“This is music to our ears. You deserve so much better than a man who sits back and lives on a woman’s dime. It’s shameful!”
I sucked my teeth. “Kellen lost his capacity for shame a long time ago. Probably right around the time he decided he hated my guts, but you know what? The feeling is mutual. Kellen is nothing to me. As far as I’m concerned – he’s dead.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Nubia piped, grabbing a bottle of wine to pour herself a fresh glass. The bottle quickly got passed around, and then we all leaned forward. “To your newly minted status… as a widow,” she said, grinning, and all five of us tapped glasses in agreement before we drank.
I was just putting my glass back down on the table when I heard a minor commotion happening behind us. I turned around just in time to see that four uniformed police officers had converged on the front of the restaurant, and the hostess at the podium was pointing directly at me.
My eyes went wide as they pulled their weapons, eliciting screams from a few other patrons, and a “What the actual fuck?” from Nubia.
Not knowing what else to do, I stood up when it was demanded of me by the first officer that reached the table.
“Are you Monica Stuart?” he barked, with his gun aimed right in my face.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “What in the world is going on?”
I cringed as he grabbed my raised arms, twisting me to pin them behind my back before he locked me tight into a pair of handcuffs.
“Monica Stuart, you are under arrest for the murder of Kellen Stuart.”
The murder of Kellen Stuart.
The murder of Kellen Stuart.
Murder?
“This has to be a joke,” I muttered to myself, looking around the sparse, dimly lit interrogation room. I’d never had occasion to be in one before, but I was struck by how remarkably similar it was to the ones on TV. The plain table, uncomfortable chair, the mirror they were undoubtedly watching me through, waiting for me to… I don’t know… break?
But I wouldn’t break, because I hadn’t done anything. Not that they believed it, but the news of Kellen’s death had struck me hard, in a way I didn’t expect.
It… hurt.
As a matter of fact, as I sat there in that cold room alone, I forced myself to fight back tears that confused the hell out of me. Kellen despised me, and the feeling was mutual, but still… I’d been his wife for fourteen years of my life. I was having a hard time remembering why I hated him when memories of those early years – the good times – were swimming in my head. Suddenly, the joke I’d made about him being dead to me at the dinner table seemed so unnecessarily crass.
Maybe because now… I really was a widow.
And I had no idea how to process it.
“Mrs. Stuart.”
I flinched as the door suddenly flung open and two men stepped in. Plainclothes officers or detectives, I didn’t know, but I had a good idea about what was going to happen next.
One sat down across from me and dropped a file folder on the table, while the other leaned against the mirror, arms crossed. I pulled my sweater tighter around me, trying to hide my cleavage from the one who was closer, and seemed to be enjoying my breasts a little too much.
“I’m Detective Crowley, this is Detective Bauer,” he said, smirking as he nodded toward his partner. “Why don’t you go ahead and just make this night easier for all of us, and tell us why you did it?”
“I didn’t do anything,” was my immediate answer. “And I’d like to know why I wasn’t notified before this about Kellen’s death. One of those cops earlier – they told me his body was found this afternoon. I didn’t know anything about it until you came and made a spectacle of arresting me at dinner with my friends. I am his wife. I should’ve been notified.”
Crowley grinned. “Wow, you see that Bauer? She seems a little upset.”
Bauer nodded. “Yeah, she does. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t understand that we tend to avoid notifying the spouse too soon… when they’re the primary suspect.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting here,” I demanded. “Why the hell would I be your primary suspect? I didn’t know it had happened!”
“This,” Crowley said, flipping open the file and snatching out a picture that he slapped on the table in front me. “Is why, Mrs. Stuart.”
Bile rose up in my throat as I took in the image in front of me, of a very bloody, very dead Kellen, tied to a chair. At first, I didn’t understand why he was showing me this, but then my eyes landed on something written across his bare chest, in some sort of black substance.
BY DEATH WE PART.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself from puking at the table. I looked away as he spread out more pictures, close up shots of Kellen’s injuries – deep gashes marring the beautiful golden-brown skin I’d always admired so much.
Including one across his throat.
“If I didn’t know better, Mrs. Stuart, I’d think this was your first time seeing this. Here’s something that should be pretty familiar,” Crowley said, tossing a picture on top of all the others.
My eyes went wide at the sight of a bloody kitchen knife – one of my Shun Kaji knives, that I’d considered the perfect tools for my perfect kitchen.
Knives that were missing after yesterday’s incident.
Across the room, Bauer cleared his throat. “You don’t even have to ask whose fingerprints are all over this knife, do you?”
“Those were stolen,” I insisted, looking right into his face. “Yesterday, someone broke into my home, I filed a police report and everything. That was one of the things they took!”
“More like the only thing they took,” Crowley drawled. “Which I find mighty convenient. Don’t you think it’s a little too convenient Bauer?”
“Oh definitely. Just like the “hacking”. Pretty damned well-timed, you supposedly get hacked, so your security system, all your cameras are offline. It all just seems… planned. Is that what this is, Mrs. Stuart? This was your plan?”
“I didn’t need a plan, because I didn’t do anything.”
“Oh come off it,” Crowley snapped. “You were upset because Kellen couldn’t keep it in his pants, so you decided to send a message.”
My face screwed into a scowl. “By killing him?! That doesn’t even make any sense!”
“According to his girlfriend, you called Kellen yesterday morning, screaming that you were going to kill him. Today, he turns up dead, and your fingerprints are on the knife. This all makes plenty of sense to me.”
Bauer nodded. “Kellen hasn’t worked in what… four years? You’ve been paying all the bills, while he runs around like a single man, spending your money. You don’t divorce him because you don’t have any legal recourse to keep him from taking half of everything, or at least insisting on spousal support. That’s enough to make anyone snap, right? Is that why you did it? To keep him from getting anything?”
“I didn’t do this.”
Crowley sat back in his chair, staring as if he was considering my words before he looked at his partner. “What do you think, man? Think she’s telling the truth? I think she’s telling the truth. I don’t think she beat her husband and tied him up, tortured him with the stabbing, then cut his throat. Nah, it wasn’t her.”
“You’re right,” Bauer shrugged. “Look at her – you really think she’d do a dirty job like that? It was probably her boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” I exclaimed. “What boyfriend?!”
“You really are an actress, aren’t you?” Crowley chuckled. “What boyfriend? That particular ruse would work a lot better if you’d actually bothered to hide all those emails and texts and phone calls.”
I pushed out a frustrated sigh. “What the fuck are you talking about?! I don’t have a boyfriend!”
“Would “No Rest for the Wicked” agree?” Bauer asked. “I mean, the man killed your husband for you – I don’t know if he’d appreciate not being claimed.”
… the man killed your husband for you…
“I… what?” I said, suddenly feeling dizzy. “You don’t… you don’t know what you’re talking about. He doesn’t even know Kellen. He’s not… we’re friends.”
Crowley leaned across the table, wearing a smirk that made my skin crawl. “Mrs. Stuart… come on now. We saw the video – the things you two were doing weren’t very friendly at all.”
My eyes went wide. “Video? What video?”
“The video we got from your computer, the video you’ve watched thirty-six times since last year, of you and “Wick” finger-banging yourselves, Mrs. Stuart. Well… you used more than just your fingers.”
Heat spread over my face as I clenched my fists. “I deleted that months ago!”
“Well, you didn’t do a very good job. You’ve barely been here an hour, and we already have enough from your computer to put you away for good.”
“Everything you have is circumstantial at best, Crowley. Cut the bullshit.”
I looked up to see that the door had opened again, and a woman was standing there glaring from Crowley to Bauer. The door swung shut behind her, but she kept her stance – one hand propped on her hip, the other clutching an expensive-looking leather commuter bag.
“Demetria Byers… it hasn’t been long enough.”
Demetria smirked, tucking her hair behind her ear as she approached the table, putting her bag down before she started collecting the pictures of Kellen to put back into the folder.
“Ah, if you only understood how mutual the feeling was.” She closed the folder full of pictures and tossed it across the table to him. “This interview is over. You had no business speaking with my client without her lawyer present, and I’ll make sure that’s mentioned when you try to use anything she’s said against her.”
Bauer chuckled. “Don’t have to use her words from tonight. The evidence speaks for itself. Besides – she hasn’t asked for a lawyer.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Demetria put a hand on my shoulder.
“At the restaurant, where your thugs snatched my client away from her friends with a baseless arrest, Chloe McKenna informed the arresting officers that she’d be contacting Mrs. Stuart’s attorney. Me. She didn’t need to ask, because her legal representation was already on the way, and you should have waited. But… you never were one for taking your time, were you?” she asked, in a tone that definitely spoke to history between her and Bauer, but I wasn’t worried about that right now.
I wanted to know how she was going to get me out of here.
“Now, gentleman, I think we can all agree that you’ve egregiously overplayed your hand here. The simple fact that my client isn’t even in handcuffs right now speaks directly to the fact that you don’t believe she did this. Please tell me you don’t think this woman brutally murdered her husband, wrote a message implicating herself, and left a bloody knife covered in her fingerprints, all in the condo that she pays for, and then went to have dinner with her friends. There’s no possible way you don’t see that this is a setup,” Demetria said, her expression stern as she looked back and forth between the detectives.
“It’s not as if your client has been forthcoming with her whereabouts from this morning,” Crowley challenged, as if they’d even bothered to ask.
“I was… visiting someone,” I piped up. “Almost two hours out of the city, and the same distance back!”
He scoffed. “Can your “someone” corroborate that?”
“I…” I pushed out a sigh. “No.”
He shook his head. “You got some proof? Let me guess – no, you don’t, because you’re lying, and we’re going to prove it.”
“Okay you’re done,” Demetria interrupted. “I need to talk to my client, and I hope I don’t need to remind you that our conversation is privileged.”
“Don’t worry about us snooping,” Crowley said as he stood, and Bauer moved away from the mirror, toward the door. “We’re about to go have a conversation with the boy toy. We’ll make sure he knows you’re lawyered up, Mrs. Stuart.”
My lips parted. “What? You know who he is? You have him here? How?!”
Bauer laughed. “Oh, did lover boy not tell you he was still in town?”
“Enough! Out!” Demetria demanded, before I could ask any more questions. When she turned back to me, she was wearing the same scowl she’d been giving the detectives. “Why the hell would you talk to them?!”
I pulled my head back, surprised at the question. “Why wouldn’t I? My husband is dead, and they think I did it!”
“They don’t. They just want it to have been you, so they can wrap this case up. You’re lucky I got here when I did – they would’ve had you confessing in another hour.”
I frowned. “No, because I didn’t do anything. And girl… I don’t even know you.”
“But Chloe does, which is a good thing for you – trust me. I’m going to ask you a few questions that I need you to answer for me as honestly as possible – no bullshit. We’re going to fix this, but I need you to be straight with me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Where were you this morning, between ten and noon?”
“At my father’s grave. I stopped for lunch on the way back, but I didn’t keep the receipt.”
Demetria shook her head. “That’s fine. Your Mercedes has GPS. They’re going to pull it, and it’s going to prove where you were. Next question – the message on Kellen’s chest. Beyond the obvious, does it mean anything to you?”
I pushed out a sigh, then swiped a hand over my face. “Um… it’s a nail polish name that I came up with. My upcoming holiday collection… Wicked Widow,” I explained as my stomach flipped. “All of the names are plays on fidelity, wedding vows… killing a husband. By Death We Part is a black matte polish. And um… the card, that came with the roses I got after the break-in. Partaking all Others. It’s a deep crimson, like the flowers were.”
“Partaking, instead of forsaking. It’s a creative concept, I love it.” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Just… pretty unfortunate timing.”
“Who are you telling?” I asked, letting out a dry chuckle. “So… what happens next?”
“Well, I’m going to get you out of here, so you can get some rest. I have a feeling they already got back that GPS report, traffic cameras, EZ pass, something, to show that you weren’t anywhere near Kellen when he was murdered. Otherwise, they’d already have you booked. They’re just trying to get information out of you. Like the “boy toy” they referred to. Who the hell is that? Chloe didn’t say anything about you having a side piece.”
“That’s because I don’t! At least… not really.”
“Monica, no bullshit. Tell what the deal is.”
“It’s just this guy that I met online, like five years ago. We’ve never met in person, I don’t even know his name, and he doesn’t know mine. There’s no way he did this.”
Demetria nodded. “Okay, so… why do they think he’s your “boy toy”. Is the relationship sexual in nature?”
“Uh… sort of,” I answered, lowering my gaze to my hands. “We’ve had phone sex. And… webcam sex, I guess you’d call it. One of the very first times we did the webcam thing, I… recorded it, to watch again later. I thought I deleted it a few months back, but apparently not, if it’s being considered evidence now.”
I appreciated that Demetria’s response was just a simple nod. “Okay. I’ll do what I can to make sure it’s not seen by any more people. But… that still doesn’t explain what they insinuated on the way out. “lover boy didn’t tell you he was still in town?”. He came to visit you?”
“No,” I shook my head. “As far as I knew, he didn’t even know where I lived, and I didn’t know where he lived. But…” I sighed. “After I got hacked, he recommended a computer security firm to me, for me to take all my devices to. It was here in town, which freaked me out.”
Demetria’s eyebrows crept up. “So… he does know where you live then.”
“Yeah. I guess so. I haven’t talked to him since then.”
“And that was two nights ago?”
I nodded, and Demetria let out a hefty sigh as she sat back. “Monica… I understand that you think this man is your friend, but… you have to know it’s possible that he stalked you, found out where you lived, and killed Kellen to get him out of the way.”
“Absolutely not,” I insisted. “I talk to Wick all the time – he would already know that Kellen wasn’t in the way of anything. We lived separately – Kellen with his pregnant girlfriend.”
“Okay. So maybe he killed Kellen for you. Sees the distress this man is causing, and wants to free you from it.”
“No. No.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “These last few days have been absolutely crazy, but Wick being a murderer – and setting me up to take the fall for it? That’s something I patently refuse to believe. It’s not as if Kellen was some boy scout. He was fucking half the metro area, he’s an asshole, and he was always wrapped up in one scam or another lately. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to see him dead.”
Demetria gave me a single nod. “Okay. I believe you. But, for the sake of transparency, I think it would be a good idea to call in Renata and Chad. You’re being accused of murder, and this alleged affair is what the police are looking at as your motive. It’s time we find out who Wick really is.”