Chapter Eighteen
Lily gripped her car keys in her hand so hard the metal cut into her palms as she stared at the silver plate on the wall in the hallway of the large brick building that read Vermont State Police Major Crimes Unit with a little arrow beneath to direct people. Major crimes. That was why she was here. They wanted to question her about a major crime, or rather major crimes plural, a murder and an attempted murder. Feeling her body shudder with nerves, she took a deep breath and then another, wishing she had taken Christian up on his offer to accompany her. Or even Riley. He had offered as well, but something inside had stopped her. Obviously that part of her brain was crazy, or at the very least, delusional.
When she had called the number on the card this morning, and spoken to a Detective Janet Sanford, the detective had offered to come to Lily, but again, that delusional, crazy place in her brain – that she should really have checked out – had taken over. Her thought had been that it was bad enough that certain members of the town knew what was going on, providing further fodder for the gossip mills by inviting whatever this drama was over for tea had seemed like a bad idea at the time. Now, with her body racked with chills of apprehension, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had made a colossal mistake.
“Miss Oremun?”
Lily started at the sound of her name and was only shocked further when she saw the woman who had spoken leaning out the door. She recognized her. The newcomer from Thursday’s group session.
The woman came forward with a pleasant smile and proffered her hand for a shake. The gesture actually went a long way in calming Lily’s nerves. She’d worked herself into such a state, she had half expected to be called a murderer, shoved against a wall, cuffed, and thrown in jail.
“I’m Detective Janet Sanford. Thank you for coming in to meet with us. I hope everything is well with your sister?” the detective asked as she gripped Lily’s hand in a firm shake.
Lily nodded, not really trusting herself to speak, but luckily, the detective didn’t seem to mind as she ushered Lily further down the hall and into a room set up with a table and three chairs. “My partner has gone to get some coffee. Would you like some? I can text him.”
Shaking her head, Lily cleared her throat and forced herself to speak. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
Detective Sanford took a seat in one of the chairs and motioned for Lily to do the same. Her backside had barely connected with the hard plastic when a man with a receding hairline, a thick mustache and an even thicker waistline hurried into the room with a drink carrier loaded with coffee.
He was unloading the cups as Detective Sanford made introductions, his smile of welcome morphing into a slight wince of pity as his eyes fell on her scarred cheek. She would have thought she’d be used to such looks by now, but out of habit, she turned her face away and pulled her hair over the area in attempt to hide the marks.
“Did a boyfriend give you those scars? Is that why you go to the support group?” The woman asked.
Lily cleared her throat again, wishing she had agreed to coffee, or at least some water. “No, my former husband.”
“Former? You’re divorced?”
“He passed away.”
“Was he sick?” This from the male detective, Lily couldn’t remember the name Detective Sanford had offered for her partner.
“He was killed.”
A beat of silence and Lily wanted to cringe, half expecting them to place her under arrest at any moment.
Detective Sanford let out a little hmm, nodded, and opened the file that Lily hadn’t notice prior. Without looking up from the pages before her, the woman continued. “How was he killed?”
“He fell.” Oh god, oh god, oh god. This was not good. Not good at all. She could feel the panic prickling over skin as her stomach knotted with apprehension.
“Interesting.” A pen tapping against the table before Detective Sanford closed the file and leaned forward to pin Lily with a direct stare. “See, according to the records we have on you, Miss Oremun, you’ve never been married.”
Lily could feel the blood drain from her face. She was going to be sick. Barely five minutes into what was supposed to have been a standard interview for information, and she’d already screwed the pooch. She had forgotten that she wasn’t here as Lillian Munroe-Kramer, but under her new identity of Lillian Oremun, single, never been married… Why had she insisted on coming alone? Why?
Before she could sputter out a retraction, something, anything, Detective Sanford sat back in her chair. “Let’s move on. Where did you go last Thursday night after the support meeting?”
Lily licked her lips, trying to collect her thoughts. Her skin felt too tight, and she could feel beads of sweat accumulating rapidly down the center of her back. Where had she gone Thursday night? Clearing her throat again, she ended up coughing which, she was positive, made her look even guiltier. The memory finally coming to her, she practically shouted the answer, so pleased that she had something legitimate to say. “I went to a friend’s house and we watched a movie.”
“And the friend’s name?” The male detective asked before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Christian Black.”
Detective Sanford nodded and made a notation in the file. “And after the movie?”
“I fell asleep during the movie.” Lily said carefully, but again she felt her face blanch. She never did figure out how she gotten home that night. What had she done during that missing time when she may very well have been sleep walking again?
“We’ll need to contact Mr. Black to confirm this information.”
Startled from her thoughts, Lily gave a little jump and blurted, “He doesn’t have a phone.” Christ, she was bad at this. She may as well just surrender her freedom right now. Trying to give them something they could use, she rushed on, “But if you call the diner right now, you may catch him. He’s usually there for breakfast around this time.” She rattled off the familiar numbers. “He likes waffles.”
