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Walking in to see Dr. Mist for the first session was probably one of the hardest things I have done. Hearing the words from her, like vulnerability, feelings, and trust are ones that always make me want to shut everything out, but I’m trying. I’m a long way from being a man who can stand in front of Victoria and tell her how I truly feel, but with time, I want to be. And to do that I need to get myself right first. A version of the man that will never make Victoria run again.
In the meantime, I’m still dealing with this shit, and that’s part of the problem. No one seems to be in a hurry to sort out the mess except me.
“Sorry for the delay. Mr. Weston Darby.” The officer across from me looks at me with his hands clasped on the desk in front of him.
It’s not very often I hear my full name, and it still sounds strange after being a Weston most of my life, but now I couldn’t be prouder of the addition of the Darby name to mine. Mum told me I could have dropped the Weston name, but I would never have done that. I kept it out of respect for my mum and for my pop and nan who gave everything they had to help raise me. I will never turn my back on that sacrifice and love from all three of them.
“There has been a development overnight in the case against you.”
My heart stops with a thud in my chest, the way he says case against me. The last I heard I was just a person of interest.
Trying to control my breathing, I ask the questions that I’m not sure I really want to know the answer to. “What developments, and since when is there a case against me?”
“I’ll ask the questions, Mr. Weston Darby, I just suggest you answer them.” What I wouldn’t give to be able to reach across the table and punch that smugness off his face, but as Broderick has constantly reminded the last few days, violence is not an answer. I’m sure it would feel fucking satisfying, though.
“Then start asking them and stop wasting my time.” The aggression in my voice is not going to help my cause here.
Good one, Nicholas, piss off the man who has the power to lock you up.
Not sure that therapy is working just yet.
ChapterTwenty-Four
NICHOLAS
“We had an anonymous tip that one of your employees was found beaten pretty badly last night in the alley next to Bar Diamond. Is this a bar you frequent regularly?”
“Who?” I spit out before he’d even finished his question.
“Answer the question,” he replies as my mind is running wild. What else could go wrong?
“Yes, I drink there sometimes, but not last night. In fact, I haven’t been there in over a month.” Mainly because I can’t bring myself to go back. The last time I was there was the night I took Victoria home. The day my life changed forever. “Now tell me who is hurt, and are they okay?” I don’t know everyone who works for me, but that doesn’t even matter. If they are one of my employees, then I need to take care of them.
“He is currently in the hospital, and the reports are he is recovering well. His name is Laurence Wetherington.”
“Christ, what happened?” The last I knew he was in Rome finishing off the last of the repairs and making sure the hotel was back fully functioning. What was he even doing there in that bar? I’ve never seen him there, and it’s just not the kind of place I can imagine him frequenting. He’s more a pub-and-beer kind of guy.
“We are still piecing it together, but security footage shows him arguing with a woman that we haven’t been able to identify yet, and then after she leaves, there are three men who step into the frame, one a younger man and two others who jump Laurence and start to beat him.”
My stomach drops. He never stood a chance against three men.
“Have you identified any of the men at all?” My lawyer asks the question that was on the tip of my tongue.
“We have the younger man, Theodore Cheston, who stood and watched them, on drug possession, and after interviewing Laurence, it appears he was accused of owing this young man money for drugs, which Laurence firmly denies.”
The muscles in my body are tense and fury races through them. “Show me the footage!” Demanding they show me is probably not the best idea, but I can’t hold back. I know who the woman is without even needing to see it.
“I think you forget who you are in this room, sir,” Sergeant Collins reprimands me.
“What my client means is if you show him, he thinks he may know who the woman is.” My lawyer Phillip has likely guessed who I’m thinking it might be, but we need to see it to be sure.
The two officers whisper between themselves and finally agree to it, with one of them spinning the laptop around.
The video quality and angle, like all security camera footage, is not great, but I know as soon as she steps into the picture, it’s Jocelyn. The way she stands, and the handbag that is on her shoulder is one she carries every day in the office. Some designer brand that almost feels like she is making sure the rest of the staff knows she has money. Although in this footage she looks less put together, and I think the last few weeks have taken a toll on her. It took the wind out of her sails when Victoria disappeared, and she didn’t have anyone to use as her fodder to feed to the gossip rags.
“Jocelyn Darby. My distant cousin and a former employee. Check the club footage and find a front-facing image and I’ll confirm it for you.”
“Why would she be with a drug dealer and his cronies in an alley with another of your employees?”
