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“Can I help you?” I ask, grabbing their attention. It’s better to act fearless than to show any signs of weakness.
“Everleigh Blackwood?” the tall one asks.
“Who wants to know?” I try to keep a smile, but I can already tell by their demeanor that they’re hard-asses.
“I’m Detective Ballard, and this is Detective Haven. We have some questions about Eric Hudson.” They show their credentials, and I’m not sure if it puts me at ease or stresses me out more.
I look around, making sure no one is witnessing this. The last thing I need is for this to spread around town.
My attention focuses back on them.
“Okay, what about him?” I’m growing more impatient with each passing second. I literally have a couple of minutes to make it to the deli if I’m going to be on time. Sure, it’s right down the street, but I was trying to be punctual for once in my life. Guess that’s not happening today.
“It’s been brought to our attention that you had a personal relationship with him, so we need to know where you were on the night of October twenty-second.” Detective Haven’s light blue eyes stare through me.
I’m so shocked by the question that I laugh. “You can’t be serious.”
Their reactions say otherwise.
Rolling my eyes, I huff and open the calendar app on my phone. The next day was Katie’s baby shower. “I went home after working an eight-hour shift. I had an event the next morning for one of my best friends, so I stayed in.”
Ballard flips open a small pocket notebook. “Can anyone confirm you went home?”
My patience is waning. “You could ask my dog. Considering I live alone, she’s about the only one who knows I was there. I ate dinner, watched a little TV, then went to bed. Had to be at the venue at eight to start decorating.”
“So, you don’t have an alibi before eight o’clock the next day?”
I don’t want to hear anymore because I know exactly what he’s insinuating, and they’re reaching at this point if I’m their best suspect. “Excuse me, what do you think I did? That I flew to Vegas to kill him, then made it home just in time to host a party the following day? That’d give me barely enough time.”
He looks down at my left finger and sees it’s bare. “Ms. Blackwood, you’re a person of interest for the murder of Eric Hudson. He was staying with you for a little while, wasn’t he? You two had an affair?”
“This is ridiculous. Maybe you should ask his wife to explain everything, considering she embarrassed me the next day in front of the entire town. If anyone would have a motive, it’d be her.”
They exchange a look, then focus back on me.
Haven clears his throat. “His wife was here in Lawton Ridge?”
“Yes. Afternoon of the twenty-third. She decided to slap me across the face for sleeping with her husband. Trust me, I had no idea he was married before then.”
Probably came here to make a scene and an alibi for herself. If she didn’t have anything to do with his murder, I’d be willing to bet she has an idea of who did.
“And what about—?”
“Sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be, and you’ve already slowed me down enough. I’m not answering any more questions without a lawyer present. I’m aware of my rights, and unless you’re detaining me…” I look back and forth between them, and neither says anything. “Then have a good day, detectives.”
Knowing they can’t arrest me without the proper evidence, I hurry down the sidewalk enraged.
I check my phone and am already ten minutes late. Five minutes later, I make my way inside the deli and see my best friends seated by the window. They wave, and I’m trying really hard not to let those men ruin my day.
There’s already a big glass of sweet tea waiting for me. I sit down in the booth next to Katie with a sigh.
“I win. You’re buying my lunch,” Gemma tells her.
“You two placed bets on if I would be on time, didn’t you?” I glance at them.
“Well. We actually placed bets on how late you’d be.” Gemma grins.
“I said five to ten minutes,” Katie admits, and I stare at Gemma.
“I guessed fifteen to twenty.” Gemma shrugs. “I know you too well.”
Belinda greets me with a menu, but I don’t take it. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup, please.”
“Good choice.” She nods with a grin, then walks away. The place is packed with the lunch rush.
“Someone piss on your avocado toast this morning?” Gemma finally asks because I’m being quieter than usual. Typically, I have a million things to discuss, but right now, my mind is racing.
Lowering my voice, I huff and tell them exactly what just happened outside of my shop. I repeat every word of the conversation, and I’m still as shocked as they look.
