Page 6
“I bet you do,” I interrupt. “And I’ll answer anything you want as soon as I’ve seen my brothers and talked to my father’s lawyer.”
“Of course,” he says, his smile tight and very obviously annoyed.
I don’t give two fucks.
I walk around him and stop in my tracks when I finally register the white sheet over Jim’s body. I don’t want to, but I know there’ll be too many questions if I wait.
“I have to—” I cut myself off, pretending I’m too emotional, and look at Eli. I hope he can interpret my look.
“Detective Preet? You said? Could we maybe just give Tucker a moment of privacy?” He uses his angel-sweet eyes to appear as innocent and clueless as humanly possible. And they either fall for it, or they don’t think the request is unreasonable.
I mean, it could also be the giant standing behind Eli and glaring at everyone, but I doubt it. Lex still has a pretty face, even if his size is intimidating.
More than a handful of the people hanging around turn their backs to the body, to me. I hurry over and kneel beside the . . . the head-shaped part.
Fuck, this is creepy.
I uncover him.
He’s face down, and his skin looks pale but also way too purple somehow.
I don’t particularly want to touch him, but I can’t see the necklace at first glance, so I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek in order to not let out a single sound, then pull the collar of his shirt back and feel around.
God, please, I just—
I make contact with metal and quickly pinch it with my thumb and pull it back, find the clasp and undo it, then shove it in my pants.
I’m going to google how to clean the hell out of it before I put it on.
I do check to make sure it’s the Turris ring and not some other weird jewelry.
Sure enough, the thick gold ring with the letters Q U N R embossed on it stares back up at me. A powerful rush of pure fucking excitement wants to take over me, but I have to keep that in control. I have to look fucking sad or something. Maybe I should try crying?
Instead of doing any of that, I walk straight to the other side of the room where Baron Alton is standing. He’s everyone’s lawyer and is here early thanks to Eli’s quick thinking. Standing next to him is Harrison Crawford.
His presence is probably confusing to every cop currently in the apartment—and I’d say there’s well over a dozen, all looking at different sections of the big living room.
A flash of red pulls my attention to the bar.
A single cocktail glass, half full with brownish-red liquid stands next to an opened bottle of vermouth and another of whiskey.
That’s number five’s preferred drink.
The image of Amanda making herself a fucking Manhattan with Jim’s lifeless body at her feet while she waits for her toddlers to come home has an icy chill running down my back.
I shake my head because I will not feel bad for the bastard. I won’t ever let myself feel bad for him.
I shake Baron’s hand and only offer Harrison a nod.
I think I appreciate him being here, but I can’t say anything relevant to him in front of so many people, even if I know exactly why he’s here.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell Baron. “What do you know?”
He cuts straight to the chase.
“They have Amanda handcuffed in one of the guest bedrooms. She’s being held there with an officer. They said she’s been cooperating but also agreed with me that it would be best to make sure the sidewalk isn’t crawling with paparazzi when they take her away.”
“Good.” I don’t particularly care about what happens to her from today on, all I care about is how the news of this will affect Mason and Maddox. “What else?”
