Page 7 of Flawless Prize


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And that person, standing by the wreckage of the car, coolly watching me suffer.

That was all a dream, I tell myself. It had to be a dream. Just like Caleb, at my bedside. I have a concussion. I’m thinking things that aren’t real.

Unless… This has something to do with the threatening notes I’ve been getting in the office from Caleb’s mysterious enemy, Nero Barretti…

Which is a very distinct possibility.

My blood runs cold at the thought. Could it have been him, watching me? He wanted me dead.

“Hey,” Mara says, reaching over and touching my shoulder. “You all right?”

I nod, trying to shake off the thought. “Just tired.”

“Can I get you anything?”

I’m about to tell her no when two police officers file in the doorway. “Ms. Nichols? Juliet Nichols?” the younger of the two says.

“If you’re feeling up to it, we just want to get your statement about the accident,” the older says.

“Oh.” I gulp. “Yes. Of course.”

They come in and the younger one pulls out his notepad. “Can you tell us what happened?”

The memory comes back in a whirl of sights and sounds, all twisting together. The blinding headlights. The rain drumming on the roof of the car. The blaring of horns. I look at Mara, than back at the officers.

I want to tell them the truth about the crash, but something stops me. What if it was Nero Baretti’s doing?

What if this is connected to Caleb and the blackmail over Sterling Cross company?

His fraud.

If I say the wrong thing, I could send the police straight to Caleb. And no matter what’s happened between us, I can’t do that.

“I—I don’t remember much. It’s all hazy,” I finally say. “I remember the rain, and traffic, but the crash is just a blur.”

“All right,” the older officer says. “But you do remember why you were driving out there, don’t you? Where were you headed?”

I shake my head. “I don’t remember. Home, I guess.”

That’s not true. I remember. I wanted to get away. Anywhere, away from him.

“The car was registered to a Caleb Sterling. A friend of yours?”

Friend? No. I wouldn’t call Caleb a friend. “I… We dated,” I reply carefully. “I was at his apartment.”

“So he loaned you the car?”

I blink, hard. More like barreling from his apartment, like a bat out of hell. I nod.

“And then what?”

Even the memory makes my heart speed up, but I try to stay cool. “I remember a car, behind me,” I reply carefully. “It hit me, I think. And then, I was spinning.”

This interests them. “What did this other car look like?”

“I don’t… I can’t remember. It was dark, and there were headlights in my eyes.”

“And…” The officer squints, waiting for me to fill in the blanks. I don’t. “It’s just a big blur?”

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