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My movements still as I look up at him, black leather gloves covering his hands. I search for a gun but surprisingly I don’t see one in his hands.
“If I let you go, you promise not to scream?” I nod my head slowly and he releases his hand from my mouth. I gasp, pushing him off me so I can stand up.
“Who are you and how the hell did you get in my house?”
“I’m Detective Crest, Leroy Crest.” He says his name as if I should know who he is, but I don’t. I assume this is the detective that Mads had previously told me was snooping around, but then again, he said that he’d taken care of him.
“What are you doing here?” I cross my arms over my chest, my eyes glancing over at my phone. I don’t know if he has a weapon yet and making any sudden movements will make him lunge toward me again.
“Oh, I think you know why I’m here, Mrs. Ashford.” He looks around the room, crossing one arm over the other as he narrows his gaze at me.
“I really don’t. If you’re here about Dane, I don’t know what to tell you. I already told the police everything I know.”
He nods, picking up a vintage Tiffany paperweight and rolling it around in his hand. “I am here about your husband, Dane, yes, but not about his death.” He looks up at me as if he’s waiting for me to understand what he means.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean. Why else would you be here?”
“Mrs. Ashford, were you aware about your husband’s dalliances?” He steps closer to me and a sense of unease bubbles in my stomach.
“I—uh, I’m not sure what you’re referring to exactly?” I have no idea how much he knows, but I’m not about to say anything that will reveal what I know.
“Now, Mrs. Ashford, I’m a trained lie detector.” He forces a laugh. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and cut the shit.” He steps even closer, reaching his gloved hand out to touch my chin. “Or it’s going to make me very angry.”
“You need to leave,” I say, turning my head away, but he grabs a handful of my hair. “Ow!” I yelp, trying to free myself, but it’s no use.
“I have lost everything because of your piece of shit husband.” His spittle peppers my face he’s so close. “Everything! I lost my job because I was consumed with destroying him, but the fucker took the easy way out before I could get to him.” He hisses, his hot breath against my face. “But most importantly, I lost my wife because of him.”
“I-I’m sor-sorry,” I stutter, fear making my words stick in my throat as he pulls my hair even harder.
“Sorry won’t cut it!” he screams, his unhinged behavior only frightening me further. “Why did he have to go for her? Why? That asshole could have anyone. He had you and it wasn’t enough. He had to have Stella too.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about or if Dane actually did have an affair with his wife, but I wouldn’t put it past him.
“He hurt a lot of people, Leroy, not just you,” I say, hoping I can calm him down. “He hurt me too. He lied to me, hid things from me,” I say, pleading with my eyes. “He was an awful person, I know that, but I don’t know anything about your wife. I promise.”
He stares at me as if he hears me but isn’t listening. His eyes drift away from mine. “I knew the day I walked into his office and questioned him about the disappearance of that prostitute that I’d sealed my fate. He was nice to my face, told me he understood I was just doing my job, but the way he looked at me, I just knew…” His words trail off and I stand in silence before he continues like he needs to get it off his chest. “He seduced her, convinced her to leave me, then he tossed her aside like she meant nothing. But instead of coming back to me, she found someone else. I told her I’d take her back.” He starts to cry, the grip he has on me loosening. “I told her I would forgive her, but she didn’t want me anymore. So I did what any husband would do. I stalked her and her new boyfriend and made their life hell—until she reported me and I lost my job.”
“I’m sorry.” I tremble. “He left my life in shambles too.”
“Yeah, looks like you’re having a real tough time in this mansion. Stella would have never reported me for stalking. She would have never left me if it wasn’t for your lying, sack of shit husband. He deserved worse than he got but since he’s not here any longer…” He reaches his other hand out and runs it along my face. I squeeze my eyes shut at the unwanted contact. “Maybe you should be the sacrificial lamb.”
His eye twitches, his sadness starting to turn back into rage. I glance over at my phone. It’s too far out of reach, but the office door is open. I think if I can get past him, I can make a run for it to the gun safe in the bedroom closet. I don’t have time to wait for another chance. I don’t have time to try and think it through. I clench my fist, sucking in a deep breath before bringing my knee up as hard as I can right into his groin.
“Ohhh!” he groans, doubling over as I bolt past him toward the door. “You bitch!” he shouts again, but I don’t look back. I run as fast as I can, slamming the door behind me as I dart down the hallway and into the bedroom. I close the door, locking it just before he reaches it.
“I’ll kill you!” he screams, pounding against the door as hard as he can. Tears blur my vision as I scramble to the closet. I hear the wood of the door splintering when he begins to kick it harder and harder. I open the safe again, grabbing a gun and spinning around just as the bedroom door flies open and he emerges in the doorway of the closet. His chest heaves, his eyes look empty.
“You’re gonna die, bitch.” He’s laughing now. “I’ve got nothing left to live for.” He lifts his hand, a pistol now visible, but before he realizes it, I’m pulling the trigger on mine, the sound of the bullet leaving the gun almost deafening me as his body crumples into a heap.
I crawl backward, dropping the gun. Tears are pouring down my cheeks, my lungs burning, my ears ringing. Seconds later, he stirs, a low moan sounding through the closet as he starts to sit up.
“Emery!” Mads’ voice echoes through the house, followed by footsteps.
“He has a gun!” I yell as the detective sits up, blood pouring from his left shoulder where the bullet hit him. I reach for my gun again, pointing it at him but it just clicks. I pull the trigger again, the clicking sound sending a chill through me as he smiles and points his gun toward me. I squeeze my eyes shut just as the sound of a single loud gunshot rings out.
22
MADS
