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“Fine.” Hammer swallowed. “Let’s get this over with.”
Sterling spoke at the mirror. “We’re ready to begin, gentlemen.”
Seconds later, Winslow and Cameron returned.
The tall one started in first. “When did you first meet Ms. Kendall?”
Sterling nodded.
Six and a half years ago. Friday, August eleventh. “I don’t recall exactly.”
“Where did you meet her?”
Hiding in the alley behind Shadows. “I don’t recall that, either.”
“How old was she?” Cameron demanded.
Sterling intervened. “You’ve basically answered that. Don’t repeat yourself.”
Hammer just smiled. “Next?”
Winslow narrowed his eyes. “How old was she the first time you took her to bed?”
His lawyer shook his head at that question, too.
Last November fourth, three short months ago. God, he’d wanted her for so long. “Can we step this up? I’d like to go home.”
But that wasn’t happening anytime soon. The hours ticked by like days, and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. Hammer soon realized the two officers wouldn’t be satisfied until they’d nailed him to the wall.
“In a rough estimation, Mr. Hammerman, how many sex partners would you say you’ve had in the last…oh, I don’t know…since your wife committed suicide?”
“Irrelevant to the charges, Winslow.” Sterling shook his head in disgust. “Don’t answer that, Macen.”
“Was your late wife younger than you, Mr. Hammerman? Was she the first child you molested?” Cameron quipped.
“I already told you, I’ve never had sexual contact with a minor.” Even when he’d been a minor himself, he’d seduced grown women left and right. But clearly these two clowns thought they were going to mindfuck him. Amateurs. “I was a year older than Juliette. She was twenty when we married. But I think it’s interesting you assume I had a child bride. Do your questions stem from your own personal experience?”
Cameron sent Macen an arctic glare. “You and your late wife didn’t have children? Not even a little girl for you to practice on?”
“Why would you think that?” Hammer quizzed. “Is that what you do with your daughters?”
Sterling cleared his throat. “We’re all quite aware that Mr. Hammerman has no dependents.”
“Well, none that have been born yet,” Winslow added with a sly smile. “Rumor is, Ms. Kendall is pregnant.”
“How many times did you have to force her to have sex with you before she conceived? Or did your pal, O’Neill, knock her up? I bet you’re holding out hope for a little girl so you can repeat the cycle,” Cameron jabbed.
“That isn’t even a viable question,” Barnes objected.
“What types of sexual acts do you most often engage in, Mr. Hammerman?” Winslow asked. “Strictly the ménage à trois? Or is Ms. Kendall a third to your homosexual relationship with Mr. O’Neill? Are you an equal-opportunity kind of pervert?”
When Winslow succumbed to Cameron’s level of character assassination, Hammer felt as if he’d scored a victory. In fact, he couldn’t help but chuckle as Sterling laid his hand on Hammer’s arm and shook his head.
“I think they only brought me here to ask about my sex life because theirs are lacking,” Macen drawled.
“At the moment, that’s how it sounds,” his lawyer agreed before turning his attention to the two detectives. “If you’re quite finished wasting my client’s time, we’ll leave now so you can utilize this room for real criminals.”
“Not yet.” Winslow smiled and pulled out a stack of papers from a nearby file folder before spreading them over the table like a deck of cards.
Hammer went cold.
He recognized his own handwriting instantly. Each page represented a copy of a money order he’d written to Bill Kendall to stay the fuck away from Raine. Over six years’ worth of payments stared him in the face.
He could imagine exactly how this would be construed, and he struggled to think of a plausible explanation. Even the truth could land him in prison.
Hammer’s guts twisted. His heart raced.
“These money orders look familiar?” Winslow taunted, his eyes lighting up like a cat ready to devour a mouse. “All summed, it’s a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. What could a man like Bill Kendall possibly possess that would entice you to pay him such a large sum of money? His daughter, perhaps?”
Macen felt as if the walls were closing in around him. The air thinned. His suit suddenly felt tight. Even his skin seemed to shrink, as if he needed to shed it like a snake. He reached up and loosened his tie.
“As your attorney, I’m advising you to ignore that question, too.”
“Good, I’d rather not dignify it with an answer,” Hammer countered.
“What were you paying Bill Kendall for, Mr. Hammerman?” Winslow pressed. “A nice, juicy virgin?”
“Obviously, you know the going rate. I don’t have a clue since I’m not in the habit of buying sex partners.” Macen ground his teeth together.
“Was he blackmailing you?” Cameron tossed out. “I’ll bet Bill Kendall was holding all your immoral and unnatural proclivities over your head.”
