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“This isn’t the first time they’ve interviewed me. I was brought in twice for questioning back when Darcy disappeared. I was eighteen and scared and stupid and never asked for a lawyer.”
“Okay. I’ll see about getting hold of those interviews. Now, I know this is a difficult and stressful situation, but I want to assure you that I’m going to do everything I can to protect your rights and defend you against any charges that may be brought.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Sasha reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You probably hear this all the time, Mr. Holden, but he’s innocent.”
“Oh, please, just Cal.” He glanced back and forth between them, then looked at their tightly joined hands. He nodded, a smile kicking up the corner of his mouth. “You’re right. I do hear it all the time, but I don’t always believe it. This time? I do. It’s a nice change of pace.” He went back to making notes. “Do you know what kind of questions they’re going to ask?”
Donovan shrugged. “Not really. Ash just said he wants to talk to me about what happened. He said it’s routine.”
Cal’s eyebrows winged up. “You personally know the sheriff?”
“We were friends in high school.”
“Okay. Yeah, we can work with that. Before we go in, a few more things.” His whole demeanor suddenly changed like he’d flipped on the switch in his brain labeled work, and Donovan saw a glimpse of that pit bull. “Remember your Miranda rights—you have the right to remain silent and the right to an attorney. If you don’t feel comfortable answering a question, or if you need time to think about your answer, you can say that you want to speak to me first.”
“Got it.”
“You want to be honest and straightforward but don’t give away any information that could be used against you. It’s important to be calm, clear, and consistent in your answers.”
“I can do that.”
“If they try to pressure you or intimidate you, we’re out. You have the right to be treated fairly and respectfully, and I’ll make sure that happens.”
Sasha exhaled a deep breath. “Thank you for that, Cal. He needed someone other than me in his corner.”
“It’s my job.” Cal checked the time on his phone. “And now we’d better head in.”
“Oh, God.” Sasha turned into his arms and hugged him tightly around the waist like she didn’t want to let him go. “I’ll be waiting right here for you.”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, drawing strength from her conviction in his innocence. He wanted to tell her he loved her again but kept his mouth shut and instead kissed her lightly before stepping back.
He faced his lawyer and squared his shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Ash was surprised to see the lawyer. He hid it, but Donovan knew him well enough to see the flash of shock as Cal introduced himself.
“I appreciate you coming,” Ash said and waved a hand at the table between them. “Please, have a seat. I’ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible.”
“Isn’t it a bit unconventional to have the sheriff handling this interview by himself?” Cal said in a light, conversational tone as he pulled out a chair and sat.
It’s because Ash is a control freak. But Donovan didn’t say that out loud. He didn’t figure it would help his case to piss off the sheriff right from the jump.
“My deputies are all busy in other parts of the county dealing with the fire,” Ash said evenly.
“Hm.” Cal produced a small digital recorder from his briefcase and set it on the table. “I’ll be recording this, too, if you don’t mind. Or even if you do mind.”
“That’s fine. This is just a routine follow-up to clarify a few things.” Ash pulled out the chair across from them and sat. He started the official recorder and quickly listed off the date, time, and names of everyone present. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning: the party on Hidden Beach on the night of October 26, 2007. Tell me about that night.”
“You should know, Ash. You were there.”
“I want to hear it in your own words. For the record.”
Donovan drew a breath and rehashed it all—the ongoing fight with Darcy about him joining the Marines; her dismissal of his marriage proposal; the blow-up fight at the party, where she slapped him before taking off into the woods; his unsuccessful attempt to find her; his stop at the gas station before going home.
Seemed like, after fifteen years, it should be easier to talk about, but reliving that night still left a black hole in the center of his chest.
Ash nodded. “Okay. There’s one more thing I have to ask about. The blood found in your home, on the floor, and on your bat.”
