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Lies. Fuck, Sean worked fast. I should have guessed. After Casanova pulled away from the curb, I didn’t rethink my plan. I mean where else was I to go? I literally have no friends. No home. No money. No support system in place. The police are the only other place I can find the help I need and who have a chance at protecting me.
I look up at the detectives. “The bar. Asylum. The Druid—”
“Your husband? One Sean Doyle.” There’s judgment in her eyes. Like she has no sympathy for my situation. After all, I chose to marry the man notoriously known as a killer for the mafia. Only no charges have stuck.
“Not for long,” I correct her. “He chased me there and then emptied his guns in my direction.” No way that many people can be silenced. They had to have a recording of the shooting. “Did you check the security system? There had to be at least one hundred people there to witness Sean’s level of crazy.”
“Are you trying to tell us how to do our job?”
“Well, yeah. Otherwise, you would have all the evidence of what I am saying in your hands and you would be offering witness protection. And don’t act like you don’t know who I am talking about. I’m pretty sure you have a stack of cold case files half your size with the Druid’s handy work written all over them.”
He looks at me like I’ve gone off my rocker.
“Hello, I mean I am wearing a fucking bloody wedding dress.”
I’m cut off by the female detective taking a seat on the end of the interrogation table and leaning in.
“So let me get this straight. Your father married you off to a man named the Druid. Then he proceeded to shoot your father after forcing him to sign a new Will and Testament. You ran. He chanced you to this bar. More gunfire.”
I might have left off a few details, but nothing that mattered to them. “In a very compressed nutshell. Yes.”
I let out a frustrated sigh.
“And this is how you got the blood on your dress.”
“Again. Yes.”
“I see.”
The man beside her grunts.
I press a hand to my stomach, willing it to settle. But it hasn’t listened to me in over four years. I don’t know why it would obey my command now.
“Look, at the very least I need your protection while you do what you have to do. If he finds me, he will kill me.” I can’t mention my daughter. There’s no record of her birth thanks to my asshole father. Another problem I’ll have to solve.
“He’s a powerful man with deep pockets.” I know the possibility of Sean owning a few of these cops is probable but I have to take my chances the two detectives in front of me aren’t on his payroll. But by their exchanged glances they at least know of him.
“Don’t worry. We will figure this out. Along with how you got the blood on your dress.”
“I told you—”
The male detective stands, the metal of his chair grating along the floor. “But first, we need you to write out your statement. We need a record of everything. Every last detail you can think of. Names, time frames, who did what. It needs to go on this paper.”
“But I just told you everything.”
“You’ve come in here looking like you murdered half of your reception. The only reason you are not in a holding cell right now is because we can’t find the bodies. A team will be up here soon to take your dress for evidence.”
Looking not in the least bit sympathetic, the detective scoots a pad of paper over to me with a pen on top. Sean isn’t foolish enough to kill me in the middle of a police station. At least I don’t think he is. But on some level, I hope he shows up. Maybe then I won’t be looked at like some criminal.
The female detective is on her feet. “Trust me. Do this and I’ll see what I can do to help you. If your story pans out there’s more than one way we can work together. Unless you’re lying to us. And then you’re looking at some serious charges.”
Yeah, I know where this is going, but I keep my lips sealed. She’s playing dumb, but the detective knows the Druid. This case can be career-making and I just hand-delivered everything she needs with a pretty bow. She’s not going to let me simply walk. Not until I am on a stand testifying against my family and Sean which means certain death. How long before the DA is here trying to make a deal with me? Then after they realize I’m telling the truth it’s federal marshals, witness protection. I’d never see my baby girl again. No thanks. I’ll have to find another solution.
The less I say from here on out the better.
And there were those two words again. Trust. Me. Hearing them makes me sick.
I nod. “Sure. I understand.” But not in your life, lady.
