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“All right.” She moved over to the bed, looked down at Julian.
“Record’s on. Do you need me to read you your rights again, Julian?”
“No.” His voice rasped out, and he winced as he swallowed. “Throat’s sore.”
“I bet. Where did you get the pills?”
“I swear to God, I didn’t take any pills. I just had a couple glasses of wine.”
“Where did you get the wine?”
“Joel brought it over last night. He knew I was … upset. We only had one glass each. I’ve been drinking too much since … you know. I drink too much, I guess, when I’m upset.”
“So Joel brought you the bottle of wine, but you didn’t finish it last night.”
“Just one glass each. And it was fine. Just fine. I don’t know why it made me so sick tonight. I guess, maybe, I caught a bug or something.”
“You nearly caught an OD. The wine was full of Somnipoton.”
“Sleeping pills? No, I didn’t take any pills. I told the MTs. I didn’t take any medication.” Agitated, he tried to sit up straighter. “I have some of my own sleeping pills—Delorix—but I didn’t take any. I don’t think.”
He rubbed a hand up and down his throat, closed his shadowed eyes. “I don’t think I did,” he repeated. “I don’t remember taking any. Things get mixed up when I drink too much.”
“The sleeping pills were K.T. Harris’s prescription. The empty bottle was in with the other wine bottles.”
His brow furrowed in a combination of puzzlement and pain. “That doesn’t make any sense. I didn’t take her pills … did I? Why is this happening?”
“You talked to Joel tonight before you came back here. What did you talk about?”
He looked away. “I was upset. I’ve been upset, and I can’t think straight when I’m upset. He said I should come back, have some of the wine he gave me, take a whirlpool. Relax.”
“He said, specifically? For you to drink the wine he gave you?”
“Yes. It’s a nice wine, and I promised him I’d have a couple of glasses. I’d have a glass of wine while I relaxed in the tub, but I just didn’t have the energy for the tub, so—”
“If you had, you’d have drowned just like K.T.”
“I don’t understand, not any of this. I guess I’m being punished.” He let out a shaky breath. “I told Roarke.”
“What did you tell Roarke?”
“That I killed K.T.”
“Julian, are you confessing to the murder of K.T. Harris?”
“I didn’t murder her. I didn’t, but …” He let out a breath again, but this time it was an exhalation of relief. “I killed her.”
“How?”
He stared at Eve with red-rimmed eyes dull against the gray cast of his skin. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure? How do you know you killed her?”
“Because I knocked her down. I didn’t mean to, but she pushed me, and I pushed her. Not hard, but I shouldn’t have. I never put my hands on a woman in violence. Never. Never.”
He had to stop, squeeze his eyes shut a moment while he calmed his breathing. “There’s no excuse. I know that. Drinking’s not an excuse, being upset isn’t an excuse. But she was screaming at me, and she shoved me, and without thinking, I pushed her back. She slipped, and she fell back and hit her head.”
“Back up a little, okay? You went up to the roof with K.T. Harris on the night of her death?”
