“I see you phoned a friend,” the detective said, with a slight chuckle.
Mena glanced up and stared into the ruggedly handsome face of Desmond Francois, one of the famed Francois detectives. Almost all of the Palmchat Islands had one of the Francois Brothers, as they were affectionately called by islanders, working in the local police departments. Their father and grandfather were police officers integral in capturing the heinous serial killer, The Fury, catapulting the family of law enforcement into Palmchat Islands royalty.
Francois gave her a wry smile as he rocked on the back legs of the metal chair. His friendly demeanor made her wary. He was playing the good cop, trying to weaken her defenses and trick her into admitting that she’d drugged herhusbandto force him to sign divorce papers.
Octavia said, “Detective Francois, you wanted us to come to the police station. We’re here. Why don’t you skip the comedic preamble and get to your questions? I don’t want the rest of Ms. Nix’s night to be ruined by this inconvenient summons.”
“Wow, so formal, Tavie? I thought we were closer than that. Or do you save all of your warmth for my brother, Richland?” Detective Francois asked. His smile grew sexier as Octavia grew visibly irritated.
Octavia clasped her hands as she leaned across the table. “Please explain why we are here. Why does the St. Basil Police believe my client has knowledge related to a crime?”
Mild amusement played across his face as he turned his attention to Mena. “Ms. Nix may know more about her boyfriend’s plan to kill Priscilla Dumay than she previously indicated.”
“What?” Mena asked, stunned. She wasn’t here about drugging Michael. This was about Julian and the charges against him for allegedly attacking Priscilla. “I don’t know anything about Julian’s plan to kill Priscilla because there was no plan. Julian didn’t try to kill her—”
Mena saw Octavia’s raised hand in her periphery, urging her not to say another word. The lawyer looked more amused than concerned by Detective Francois’ announcement.
“You remember Uma Fischer, don’t you, Mena?” the detective asked.
“My former assistant?” Mena asked, confused. “What does Uma have to do with any of this?”
Octavia turned toward Mena and explained, “Yesterday, with Julian’s help, I informed the detective that the woman suspected of bribing the correctional officers assigned to Priscilla Dumay was Uma Fischer.”
Mena was shocked. How had Uma gotten involved in bribing officers for Prissy? Priscilla was livid when she learned of Uma’s role in helping Irving steal art from the gallery. Why would they work together now?
Detective Francois recounted how the two officers had accepted a bribe in exchange for leaving Dumay unattended at the courthouse for thirty minutes. The woman who paid the bribe was believed to be Uma.
“We’ve found additional footage from CCTV cameras around Farouk Essa’s neighborhood that allowed us to positively ID Uma Fischer as the woman who showed up on his doorstep with the bribe,” the detective added. “Now I just need to figure out who put her up to it. I took a glance through her phone records. One number showed up several times over the past two months. That number belonged to you, Mena. So, what have you and Uma Fischer been talking about?”
“I only called Uma once. My boss wanted me to rehire her. I left her a message, but she never called back,” Mena explained.
“The phone records show you called her six times in two months—”
“No, I didn’t!” Mena insisted. “My boss asked me to call the day before Dumay’s trial, and I did. Since then, I’ve had a lot more to deal with then trying to give Uma her old job back.”
“The only reason you called Uma to offer her the job was at the request of your boss. Is that correct?” the detective asked.
“Yes, it is. She wasn’t a very strong conservator. Her work was average at best, and she lacked the focus that I expect for those working within my group. If Beaujean hadn’t pushed me to make the offer, I never would have considered working with Uma again.”
The detective sat up straight in his chair. A pensive look spread across his face. “Did you say Beaujean? Beaujean Ali?”
Octavia stared at Mena in shock.
Mena’s eyes darted between the detective and her attorney, confused by their reaction. “Yes. He purchased the gallery in a private sale about a month before I returned from Kenya.”
“When did he get out of the coma?” Octavia asked, the question directed at the detective.
“I don’t know. But I can tell you no one told us he was awake—”
“Coma? Beaujean was in a coma?” Mena stumbled over her words as the question blurted from her mouth. “I don’t understand.”
The detective grew serious. “You understand a lot more than you want people to realize, don’t you, Mena? Come clean and tell the truth.”
“Everything I’ve told you is the truth,” Mena said.
“I subpoenaed your phone records. You made two calls to Uma Fischer within a couple days after you and Julian survived the plane crash. You blame Priscilla Dumay for kidnapping you. I believe that’s true, even if we haven’t been able to prove it. And because of that, you and Julian made sure Priscilla was punished for everything she did to you. Isn’t that right?”
“I never called Uma after the plane crash. I wasn’t even working at the gallery then—”
