Chapter 32
Ella
I was unpacking my bags when the doorbell rang. I ignored it, at first, assuming it was a door-to-door salesperson. We’d had a lot of them lately. When it rang again, I charged downstairs and flung open the door, prepared to send them on their way.
I panicked when two detectives had flashed their badges at me instead. I thought there’d been an accident, and gripped the front door frame so tightly I bent a fingernail back until one of them, Detective Ramirez, assured me they were just there to ask some questions regarding an investigation.
I invited her and her partner in, and we sat in the living room as they asked if I knew a woman named Starla Monroe.
“No, the name isn’t familiar. Why?” I was mystified as to why they were here, until she continued questioning.
“She shortens her name to Star, from what I’m told,” the detective prompted.
I nodded then, wondering what the hell the woman had done to land in the middle of a police investigation. “Yes, I do know Star, but I didn’t realize that’s who you were asking about. I’ve never heard her full name.”
They went on to ask how I knew her, how long I’d known her, and whether I knew of any problems she had. I answeredcarefully, because something told me that this probably involved some kind of club business. I didn’t want to lie to the police, but that didn’t necessarily mean I needed to volunteer every bit of info I had, either.
Shit, I was starting to understand why knowing about club business might not be a good thing after all.
“Star works for a man I know. I don’t know her well. I’ve only met her three times, briefly, and we didn’t really talk much at all. I’m afraid I’m not going to be of much help.”
“Can you tell me where you were Thursday night through Friday morning?”
I sat up straighter, as her questions took a more intimidating tone. “I was here from Thursday afternoon until about ten-thirty Friday morning. What is this about, exactly?” I asked warily. I tried not to panic as I wondered if this had anything to with that Pic guy, and the threats he’d made.
Detective Ramirez and her partner hurried to assure me that I was not suspected of anything, but that I had been mentioned as someone who might be able to assist their investigation.
I nodded slowly, trying to remember every true crime show I’d ever watched in order to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Can you elaborate on that, Ms. Chadwick? For instance, did you see anyone else during that time?”
I tried to think back as to who I might have seen. “I saw the neighbor across the street when I got home. She was out getting her mail, and we exchanged greetings. A man I’m seeing came over for dinner and spent the night, and I saw my neighbor next door around eight or so Friday morning, when I took oversome food I’d made for him. I don’t remember seeing anyone else.”
“Can you give me the name of the man you’re seeing, and the approximate times he was here?”
A lightbulb pinged on, and I suddenly realized they were trying to verify an alibi. Since I doubted it was for me, I assumed it was for Dante.
“His name is Dante Morgan.” I was so flustered that I had trouble remembering what time he’d arrived Thursday night. I gave them his name, hoping to God that I wasn’t screwing Dante over in the process.
“I can’t remember exactly what time he got here Thursday, but he left between six-thirty and seven Friday morning,” I answered quietly.
The detective nodded and wrote something in the notebook she carried. “It’s important that we confirm the time of his arrival as closely as possible. Would you say he arrived before or after eleven o’clock?”
“Before.”
“And did he leave at any point, even for a few minutes?”
“No,” I answered firmly.
The detective studied me for a moment, then pressed a little. “How can you be so sure of that?”
I smiled faintly. “Detective, I’m a single mother of two teenagers. I sleep with one ear open, as the saying goes, and have for years. Dante was sound asleep next to me all night, I’m absolutely positive about that.”
She made a few more notes, then thanked me for my time.
“Wait,” I said as they stood up to leave. “Now that I’ve answered all of your questions, I’d like to know what you’re investigating, exactly.”
She paused and gave me a sympathetic smile. “Ms. Monroe was found dead Friday evening.”
