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“Yes. We have her confession on record. First-degree murder. It was planned, Mr. Hill. She took steps.”
“Isyourconfession on record?”
His eyebrows go up. “Excuse me?”
“Why the fuck wasn’t Bettencourt in custody? Federal agents escorted him off his property yesterday. How the hell did he end up on a private plane? Why isn’t there a fucking lawyer with her?”
“She declined legal representation.”
“Explain Bettencourt, then. Explain how he waltzed out of federal custody and skipped town.”
The corner of his mouth twists. He doesn’t like these accusations. “Mr. Hill. Those decisions are not made at my level.”
“Whose level, then? I’ll go talk to them. I’ll talk to every person above you until I get to the President of the United States. That’ll be fun, don’t you think? I’d love to see the results of that investigation. I’d love to know which one of you was working for Bettencourt all along.”
Vernon holds up a hand. “She’s also confessed to a list of other crimes. Possession of a forged prescription. Conspiracy to commit fraud. Conspiracy to commit the murders of James and Natalie Hill. I’m assuming—”
“Those are our parents,” Mason snaps. “Elise was six years old when they died. Did you do that math yet, or is it beyond you?”
“I can have the press here in five minutes, if that helps.” Jameson holds up his phone on Mason’s other side. “I’m ready to dial. You could explain to them why you’re holding a victim of years of documented—”
“Fine.” The second guy lets out a heavy sigh. “Fine. Jesus. I like my job. Leave me out of this.”
He gets out of my way before I can push him, and I go through that fucking metal door.
Elise is sitting at a metal table that’s bolted to the floor. Tendrils of hair escape her bun. She looks bone-tired and so, so sad, but more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. It’s a hard, sterile room, and she’s soft and vulnerable and lovely.
Her chin comes up when she sees me. There’s relief in her eyes, yes, but she’s…wary?
She thinks I’m going to be angry with her.
Iamangry with her. I’m angry that she went off and put herself in danger. That she didn’t come sleep next to me all night.
That doesn’t stop me from loving her.
I move around the table, and I’m about to wrap my arms around her when I see that her wrists are cuffed to the table.
“What in the actualfuck.”
My voice echoes out into the hall, and the door flies open. Special Agent Vernon rushes in. “Apologies, Mr. Hill.” He fumbles with the cuffs until she’s free. Vernon hovers near the door, waiting.
I get down on my knees next to her chair and gather Elise into my arms.
She sags into me, then remembers my ribs and tries to hold herself up. Doesn’t last. Elise buries her face in the side of my neck, her arms going around to hug me.
“Gabriel, you can’t. I’m not—”
“I can’t what? Hold you? Too bad. I’m already doing it. And you’re not…what? Innocent? A victim of an evil person? Sorry to tell you this, sweetness, but you are.”
“I killed him,” she whispers into my neck. “I…let him die.”
That…seems off. “You shot him?”
“No.”
“You…strangled him?”
She shakes her head. Hot tears run down my neck.
