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“Yes, you’re right,” the detective said with a slight catch in his voice. Couldn’t blame him. Cal was large and intimidating as hell when he was angry. “I just want to go over everything, make sure nothing was missed, because we’re taking this case very seriously. We think the trouble you’ve had, Miss Case, is related to your father’s murder.”
“No shit,” Cal muttered.
Detective Selander clearly chose to ignore his comment and move on.
“If there is a connection to be made to Brock VanBuren, we want to make sure we present the strongest evidence possible.” He flipped through several papers on his desk, looked them over, frowning, then looked back at me. “You’re still waiting for the assault charges you brought against him to be seen by a judge?”
“That’s right,” I said.
The detective nodded. “But Brock was in the county jail the night the fire hit. We can account for his whereabouts during that time, but before and after is where it gets fuzzy, which is why we need to have something ironclad.”
I nodded. It was starting to sound like the detective was really trying to solve my father’s murder and was thinking Brock wasn’t innocent in all this.
“But you said that your home and car were broken into before the fire,” he flipped through more papers. “You reported nothing was stolen, though? Did you know it was Brock V
anBuren that broke in? Did you see him?”
My lips pressed tight, because no, I hadn’t. I’d found out after that it was Brock because Erica told me. She had been there, driving the car that he took off in. I didn’t want to incriminate her, accidentally or not. It wasn’t worth the risk of her getting into trouble because Brock used her. She wouldn’t hurt me.
“It wasn’t until Brock showed up at my house and assaulted me that I knew for sure he was behind everything. But now that my house is gone, discussing how it was broken into prior to the fire doesn’t really matter.”
“It establishes a string of behavior if you saw him in your house.”
But I didn’t see him. Yet I couldn’t say that without the likely follow-up question, asking how I did know then.
“I reported what I knew at the time of the robbery. Can we discuss my father now please? You said this was now a homicide.”
He nodded. “We are trying to make a timeline to narrow down suspects, though typically these kinds of cases don’t stray far from home or motive.”
“Alright. Then, how can I help?”
“I want to make sure the timeline of your whereabouts is clear.” My lips parted, and the last statement from the detective ticked through my mind. Was I a suspect? “Your father was killed the afternoon of the same night your house burned. Before you got to your home the night of the fire, where were you?”
“Before or after she was assaulted?” Cal asked with raw anger. He was catching on to the same thing I was. I was being questioned in a way I hadn’t been ready for.
“Let’s start with before,” the detective said. “What were you doing?”
I searched my memory for that day, but it was all a blur of stress. “I think I ran some errands.”
“Were you with anyone?”
“No, not until I got home and Brock showed up.”
“Showed up, pushed his way in, and assaulted you?” he clarified.
“Yes.”
“Then you went to the hospital.”
“Yes.”
“And, after that?” His questions were coming fast and I did my best to keep up.
“I went to bed,” I said honestly.
“Not your own bed, obviously.”
“No,” I said and glanced over my shoulder at Cal. “I was at Cal’s house.”
