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Boone would also get what was coming to him one way or another, even though he was no criminal mastermind. He’d done more than enough to earn himself problems in prison.
Damon needed to trust in that. He stepped into the precinct’s waiting room and glanced around. No Ariana. Detective Rojas was still questioning her.
The only wrong they’d committed was buying the wrong home. But there was no way they could have foreseen any of this. And he still didn’t regret any decision they’d made. Their best friends in the world were next door and across the street — though Boone was no longer on that list.
Charles and Lia were letting them stay as houseguests for as long as they needed. Rita was across the street recovering and rebuilding her life one day at a time.
Soon Damon and Ariana would be starting to rebuild too. Though now that would take even more time than they’d thought. How long would their property be a crime scene? Until the mystery of the bodies was solved? Or until the cops were sure they’d gotten all the evidence they needed?
Would they be better off starting somewhere new? Getting away from their current street, which at this point seemed cursed?
Or was it him? Son of the notorious serial killer. His father had murdered his mom — just one of many. But the one that had destroyed Damon at such a young age.
Maybe there was no escaping heartache and tragedy. Didn’t matter where he lived. He couldn’t outrun his past.
He might’ve brought all this to their safe gated neighborhood.
No.
The previous owner had made his choices. Boone made his — he’d committed several felonies, all serious enough to keep him behind bars for decades.
Bad luck, that was all this was. Damon and Ari had chosen a home across the street from a psychopath. Could’ve happened to anyone.
But it happened to them.
He needed to talk with his father-in-law. Alex Mercer had become more of a dad to him than his own father had ever been.
Though he’d had no reason to trust Damon — whose father had targeted the Mercer family — Alex had taken him under his wing, choosing to see him as a victim rather than the offspring of the devil.
Unlike Detective Kamada.
Damon went outside and called Alex. Paced, keeping the waiting room in view through the windows. Wanted to wrap his arms around Ariana the moment she walked out of her interrogation.
“How did the questioning go?” Alex answered the call.
“Ari’s still in there,” Damon said. “They’re looking at us as possible suspects.”
“They don’t have anything on you.”
“Nothing. He kept saying the remains are recent. It was like he was trying to get me to confess.”
“Did he say how recent?” Alex asked.
“No.”
“They can’t arrest you without evidence. Considering you two haven’t lived there very long, I would assume they’re just covering their bases.”
“Can you call them and find out what they know?” Damon asked.
“They aren’t likely to tell me much. I’m not involved in the investigation, and I have zero jurisdiction being so far away.”
“But you’re a detective, and you’re invested in the case.”
“Exactly why they’d be more likely to be tight-lipped,” Alex said.
“We didn’t do anything!”
“Have patience while they rule you out. Once the morgue receives the body, they’ll process it. They’ll find clues pointing to the killer. For now, all they have is you two. How’s Ari holding up?”
