“Sheriff Graves.Deputy Hawkins.”His voice sounded like a man in charge of the meeting.“Please, have a seat.”
Jenna moved to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, noting how Grace hovered uncertainly at the door.She turned and said, “That will be all for now, Ms.Thompson.”
Grace hesitated, looking at Keir, who gave a nod.“I'll be at my desk if you need anything,” she said, before slipping out and closing the door behind her.
“So,” Keir said, settling back into his chair, hands clasped before him on the desk.“What can I do for Genesius County's finest today?”The question was casual, but Jenna saw that those hands on the desk weren’t actually relaxed.
“Mr.Kingsley,” Jenna began, maintaining direct eye contact, “when I called earlier, you immediately asked if my visit had something to do with Claudia.”She paused, watching his reaction carefully.“Why would you think that?”
Keir shifted in his seat, the leather creaking softly beneath him.“We've been separated for three months, but she's still my wife.Was my wife for nearly fifteen years.”He rubbed his temple.“I worry about her.”
Jenna didn't miss his use of the present tense.“I see.”
“And I guess … as soon as you called about some sort of problem, my thoughts went straight to her.She’s on my mind a lot.”
Jenna didn’t doubt that to be true—but exactly in what way or for what reasons, she had yet to determine.
“Has something happened?”Keir leaned forward, brows drawing together.“Is Claudia all right?”
Jenna studied the lines of his face.“Mr.Kingsley, I'm sorry to inform you that Claudia was found dead this morning.”
The color drained from Keir's face.He blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing without sound.“Dead?”he finally managed, the word barely audible.“How?What happened?”
“She was murdered, Mr.Kingsley,” Jenna said, keeping her voice even as she watched shock ripple across his features.His eyes widened, hands gripping the edge of his desk.A convincing display of distress—but Jenna had seen enough guilty people perform grief to remain skeptical.
“Murdered?”Keir's voice cracked.“No.That can't—” He stood abruptly, turning toward the glass wall, his back to them as his shoulders heaved with what appeared to be a deep, shuddering breath.“When?How did it happen?”
“We're in the early stages of investigation,” Jenna said.“I'm not at liberty to share those details at this time.”
Keir turned back toward them, his composure cracking.“She's my wife.I have a right to know how she died!”
“Ex-wife,” Jake corrected quietly.
“We were separated, not divorced,” Keir snapped, then ran a hand through his hair, disturbing its careful styling.“I'm sorry.This is...it's a shock.”
“I understand,” Jenna said, though she wasn't yet convinced his distress was genuine.“Please, sit down, Mr.Kingsley.I need to ask you some questions.”
He sank back into his chair, looking suddenly diminished.“Of course.”
“When was the last time you saw or spoke to Claudia?”
Keir stared at his desk, as if the answer might be written in the wood grain.“A week ago.We met for coffee to discuss some financial matters.The house.Joint accounts.”He swallowed.“It was civil.Almost friendly.”
“And you haven't spoken since then?No calls, texts, emails?”
“No.”He looked up.“Sheriff, when you called earlier, I asked about Claudia because...”He trailed off.“Because despite everything, I still care what happens to her.The end of our marriage—that's on me.I've been carrying that guilt for months.And the idea of her living out there alone…that has bothered me, too.”
Jenna kept her expression neutral as she tried to gauge the sincerity of his remorse.Men like Keir rarely felt genuine guilt; they just disliked being caught.
“Mr.Kingsley, where were you yesterday evening, around dusk?”
His posture stiffened.“Are you suggesting I had something to do with this?”
“It's a standard question in a murder investigation,” Jake told him.
“I was at my apartment.In town.”
“Were you alone?”Jenna asked.
