He watched us as we walked in.Who…guys.
His thoughts, although not moving fast like a normal person’s, were easy enough to decipher. Well, every other word.
“Mr. Anderson.” Morrison flashed his badge. “I’m Detective Tom Morrison with the Clayton Police Department, and this is FBI Special Agent Ashton Bennett. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Did you catch the guy that did this to me?” Marcus asked as he tried to sit up straighter and winced at the movement.
“Why don’t you tell us what happened? And start from the beginning.”
“I was attacked. That’s what happened.” His words were slow but to the point even as anger furrowed his brow.
“Did you see who attacked you?” I asked.
“Yes.” He frowned. “It was Gretchen’s roommate. I only met him a few times when I was picking the girls that would pose for me.”
“Why would he kill her and attack you?”
He shrugged and rubbed at his temples as if just trying to think of coherent sentences were hard for him. “He just kept saying, ‘How could you,’ and ‘You were never worthy of her.’”
“Were you and Gretchen an item?” Morrison asked.
“Not in that sense. Listen, let me spell this out for you as best I can. It hurts to even think.” Marcus sighed in agitation. “They showed up, and I went into another room to get more film and supplies. When I walked back in, Gretchen’s lifeless body was on the ground. Her blood was ruining my rug, and her roommate was standing over her dead body. He’s a psycho, man.”
“What happened next?” Morrison prodded.
“I held up my hands and tried to back out of the room, but he started yelling at me. He just kept yelling, over and over again, ‘How could you,’ and ‘You were never worthy of her.’”
“And then what happened?” Morrison prodded.
“Then he chased me. I almost got away, but he caught me and tackled me to the ground and started punching me until I lost consciousness. Then I woke up. I’m pretty sure he thought I was dead. I heard the sirens coming. The bloody knife was in my hand. I think he’d planned to pin Gretchen’s murder on me. Like some murder-suicide gone wrong. So, I grabbed my car keys and left. I knew the police would think that I killed her so I ran and ended up in the homeless camp. I made it up to my painting room and was debating what the hell to do when I realized I’d left my phone in my coat in the car. Before I could go get it, I passed out. Next thing I know I woke up here.”
“Any reason why Gretchen’s roommate would do that?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
He didn’t like I was screwing her. Creepy fucker.“No. He’d always given off a weird vibe since the first time I’d met him.”
Detective Morrison opened a manilla file and put pictures in front of him. “Do you know these other women?”
“Yeah, those are my other models. Some are flakes. I called them in need of more angles and they never called back. I had to improvise.”I spent a delicious night with each. They all had a special talent, just not at returning my damn phone calls.
“And something more, right?” I asked.
“I slept with them, but they all came on to me.”
“Was this during or after your engagement to Stella Michaels?” I asked.
“You know Stella?” Marcus’s eyes widened.
“You can say that,” I answered. “So, answer my question. Did you cheat on her or not?”
“Yes, I mean, no, she didn’t know. She would have killed me.”
“But she knew that you had a connection to these women, is that right?” Detective Morrison asked.It seems I have more questions for Stella Michaels, starting with her alibi for the nights those women vanished.
Anger stirred in my veins. Stella would never do anything like that. It looked like I was going to have to protect her from not just a killer but the local PD, too.
“Stella is a victim,” I growled and unfolded my arms, slipping my hands into my pockets. “Who else knows your connection to these women?”
“They all knew each other. I auditioned all of them in the hotel conference room for my art piece, and then several were at my house at any given time. Do you think that’s why Gretchen’s roommate tried to kill me? Maybe he thought I was exploiting these women? He’d said I didn’t deserve her. Maybe he was referring to one of them.”
