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“He won’t,” Mr. Preston says. “He needs you now more than ever.”
“We all do,” Detective Stark adds. “We need you to corroborate that Rodney and Mr. Black were running a cartel through the hotel, that they were using and abusing you. With your help, we might also be able to figure out what pushed Rodney to commit murder. He maintains he’s innocent on that charge. Admits to the drug charges, but not to murder. Not yet.”
Juan Manuel is quiet for a moment. Then he says, “I will help you if I can.”
“Thank you,” Detective Stark says. “And Molly, is there anything else you can tell us about Giselle? Do you have any idea where she could be?”
“She’ll appear, when she’s ready,” I say.
“Let’s hope,” Detective Stark says.
I imagine Giselle on a faraway white-sand beach, clicking through news feeds on her phone and learning of Rodney’s arrest. She’ll find out that I’m no longer a suspect. What will she do then? Will she reach out to the police? Or will she put it all behind her? Will she grift her way into another rich man’s wallet or will she actually grow and change?
I have never been a very good judge of character. I see the truth too late. It’s like Juan Manuel said: sometimes, you have to do one thing bad to do another thing good. Perhaps this time, Giselle will do one thing good. Or perhaps not.
“What happens now?” I ask. “For Juan Manuel? For me?”
“Well,” Detective Stark says. “You’re free. All charges are dropped.”
“But am I still fired?” I ask. The very thought of it makes me feel like I’m falling off a cliff to my doom.
“No, Molly,” Mr. Preston says. “You won’t lose your job. In fact, Mr. Snow will talk to you and to Juan Manuel about that himself.”
“Really?” I say. “He won’t fire either of us?”
“He said you’re both model workers and that you exemplify what it means to be Regency Grand employees,” Mr. Preston says.
“But what about the trial?” I ask.
“That won’t be for a long while,” Charlotte replies. “We’ll prepare for it, and that will take many months. But hopefully, by working with Detective Stark and her team, we’ll be able to put Rodney behind bars for a long time.”
“That seems appropriate,” I say. “He’s a liar, an abuser, and a cheat.”
“He’s also a murderer,” Mr. Preston adds.
I say nothing.
“Detective,” Charlotte says, “I’m sensing my client is tired. It’s been quite a day for her, given that this morning she was wrongly accused of murder and now she’s having tea in her living room with her accuser. Was there anything else you wanted to say to her?”
Detective Stark clears her throat. “Just that I, uh, regret that you were…detained.”
“That’s very kind of you, Detective,” I say. “I hope you’ve learned an important lesson.”
The detective shifts in her chair as if she’s seated on a sharp pin. “I’m sorry?” she says.
“Perhaps you jumped to some conclusions about me. You expected certain reactions that you consider normal, and when you didn’t see those reactions, you assumed I was guilty. You made an A-S-S out of U and Me.”
“That’s one way to put it,” she says.
“My gran always said that to live is to learn. Maybe next time you’ll avoid assumptions.”
“We’re all the same in different ways,” Juan Manuel adds.
“Huh,” she says. “I suppose.”
With that she stands, thanks us for our time, puts on her boots, and leaves.
Once the door clicks shut behind her, I slide the rusty dead bolt across it and breathe a huge sigh of relief.
