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"Bad news, Hunter. I just got a call from HQ. Officer, you have authority to place this man under arrest for the murder of Spencer Grant."
The cop glanced at Millar, a quizzical expression on his face like he didn’t believe it.
Adrenaline jolted through me. "What?"
He motioned one of the nearby cops over and handed him the cell. The cop listened and nodded. "I got it. Will do."
After he handed the cell back to Millar, the cop turned to me.
"Do it," Millar said.
Finally, almost reluctantly, the cop took hold of my arm, pulling it behind my back, his cuffs already out and on one wrist. I felt like fighting but I knew that was stupid, so I cooperated, providing him with the other wrist so he could cuff me.
After the cop read me my rights, he led me to a waiting police squad car and opened the door.
"I'm not guilty, " I said to Millar, who had an expression of disgust on his face.
"We got a Russian sniper rifle with your prints on it at the scene of the crime that says otherwise."
"Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to leave the murder weapon at the scene of the crime? Do you think I wouldn't wipe the prints off? That rifle was a plant. If you want to know who killed Spencer Grant, it's Sergei Romanov. That was his rifle. He set me up."
"Well," Millar said and opened the back door of the police sedan. "We'll let the evidence tell us the story."
"If the evidence is faked," I said, glaring at him, "you shouldn't trust it. Come on, you know that."
Millar didn’t answer. The cop shoved me into the rear seat, pushing my head down in the process. I sat in the back and fumed. There was no doubt that I was being framed for the murder of Spencer Grant. I'd been set up by Sergei Romanov. I thought back to my meeting with him months earlier. Had he been planning to kill Spencer all that time? Why?
I knew that Celia would be in shock and would have to be taking care of her mother now that Spencer was no longer there. She'd be frantic to know what had happened and where I was, but I couldn't call her.
Sergei must have learned about the investigation into Spencer's property and killed him to shut him up – which meant Sergei was involved in Spencer's little perversion.
I had threatened to kill Spencer. Publicly. I’d done so in front of his assistant the previous day. They had the murder weapon with my prints on it. Depending on when he was killed, they might have a timeline that worked to put me there when he was killed. I wasn't guilty, of course, but if the bulk of evidence made it look that way, given the nature of the crime – murder – I knew I'd be in custody until they either dropped the charges or the case went to trial.
I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself as the vehicle drove off – to where, I had no idea. To the local police department? To some FBI facility?
I tried to tell myself that the matter would be cleared up in a short time once they discovered the timelines didn’t match up.
Were they making a show of arresting me? Millar had said they wanted to bring me in on the assault charge, but this seemed excessive. My mind tried to concoct several scenarios where arresting me was necessary for some other goal, but I had no idea what. I'd call my lawyer as soon as I had the chance, before they could interrogate me. I knew enough to keep my mouth shut and not talk to them without my lawyer present. Even for an innocent man, the cops could trip you up, put words in your mouth.
Whatever was going on, I kept repeating to myself that Spencer was dead.
He was dead – the man responsible for Sean's death. The bastard who’d put my small-potatoes uncle away in a federal prison. The creep who molested pretty little girls and abused Celia and Graham.
I'd deal with the current shit I was facing easily enough. The fact that Spencer was dead almost made me laugh, except it was hard to be happy when I thought about all the pain and suffering he'd caused in his perverted existence.
The fact he was dead was small comfort, considering. The fact that they had evidence pointing to me was a real source of concern, but one I was certain would be cleared up once they had the time of death and I was exonerated.
Chapter 6
Celia
For the next twenty-four hours, I felt totally lost. Hunter was in police custody charged with the murder of my stepfather. My mother was a mess and staying in my aunt's spare bedroom, unable to process the fact that Spencer was dead and she was now all alone. Graham was recovering in the rehab hospital, learning to walk again, learning to use his arm, still talking through gritted teeth due to his broken jaw.
I sent a text to my advisor, telling him that my stepfather had been murdered and I'd need some time off to process things and take care of family matters, but in truth, studying would have at least distracted me from my turmoil. He wrote back and told me it was fine – that I could take a week off, even two if I needed it. He'd contact my profs and ask them to send me any reading material and excuse me from assignments if necessary.
I was thankful I was on good terms with my advisor and that he supported me. I needed to be with my mom and brother as much as possible for the next few days until we got things figured out.
I sat at a table in my aunt's house and drank a cup of coffee, staring out the window, ticking off in my mind what I'd have to do over the next few days to keep things under control. I had to make sure my mom's meds were all up to date, and pick up a prescription that she needed. I wanted to take her to a new doctor and get her meds reviewed. Spencer may have encouraged her addiction to morphine to keep her sedated and out of his business, but I wouldn't allow that to continue. I wanted to see my mother improve and have some sort of life – whatever was possible, given the fact that her injury had never healed properly and she was now disabled due to chronic pain.
