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“It says they’re looking for financial records, both for the business and Oliver’s personal accounts.”
“I don’t understand. Do they think we didn’t file taxes? Why would they—”
Milo interrupts me, his voice serious. “No, I don’t think this is about taxes.”
“I’m on my way.”
I’ve barely managed to get dressed when there’s a knock at the front door. “Oliver!” I call, rushing to find him and tell him what’s happened.
When I make it to the bottom of the stairs, Oliver stands at the open front door. He turns around and Detective Ramos follows him inside, along with two uniformed officers.
“What’s going on?” I demand. “Milo said they’re searching the shop.”
“I’m sorry, Ella,” Detective Ramos says. He turns to Oliver. “Oliver Stokes, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder. You have the right to remain silent.”
The detective continues reading him his rights as one of the officers steps forward and pulls Oliver’s hands behind his back. I don’t hear a word of it.
“What the hell are you talking about!” One of the officers blocks me when I try to get to Oliver. “Let go of him! You can’t handcuff him! He hasn’t done anything! He’s still recovering! He couldn’t have killed anyone!”
Oliver looks terrified. “Ella…”
Detective Ramos holds me back while they walk him out the door toward a waiting car.
“Don’t talk to them!” I call to him. I don’t know what’s happening, but I know you don’t talk to cops without a lawyer. “Don’t answer any questions. I’ll call a lawyer to get you out! You’ll be okay!”
I turn to Detective Ramos. “He doesn’t even remember who he is! You can’t do this!”
“We’re aware of his medical condition. He’ll be housed in the medical wing of the jail until he’s evaluated.”
My chest constricts as I watch them put him in the backseat and close the door. “I don’t understand! You said murder? He’s been with me. Every single day. Who do you think he killed?”
The detective looks genuinely upset when he regards me. “He’s being charged with conspiracy to murder his brother. Murder charges will likely be added later for the death of the clerk.”
He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Ella. Oliver hired the Warrens to kill Alden, under the guise of a robbery. He planned it.”
“That’s insane,” I breathe. “Did you miss the part where he got fucking shot and almost died? Do you think he arranged that?” The hysteria in my voice can’t be helped. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Is this another nightmare? Am I still asleep in Oliver’s bed?
“No, Alden was the target. Oliver got caught in the crossfire when the customer started shooting and the Warrens returned fire.”
“You’re wrong. Oliver would never have hurt Alden. He loved him.” There’s been a mistake and there’s going to be hell to pay once we get it straightened out. Oliver has been traumatized enough. We both have. There’s not an ounce of me that believes he could be responsible.
I didn’t just fuck the man who killed my fiancé.
