Font Size:

“Sorry,” Grant said, raising his handcuffed wrists.

“I’m going to raise my rates. Three murder charges in two years.” Mitchell settled at the table and snapped open his briefcase.

“Just a minute, I haven’t been charged. Although…they probably have some evidence against me.”

Mitchell froze, his eyebrows raising. “Please tell me you are not about to confess a crime to me.”

“I’m not,” Grant said, shooting his attorney an incredulous glance. “Are you serious?”

“Grant, it’s been a long two years. Lydia has made a lot of trouble for you. I think it’s more than understandable–”

“That I pushed her off the roof? Mitch, no. Come on. You know me better than that. My temper doesn’t go beyond breaking a glass in frustration. I didn’t kill her.”

The man sucked in a breath as he uncapped his pen. “Okay. So, what evidence?”

Grant swallowed hard. “I didn’t kill her…but I didn’t say I wasn’t at her place tonight.”

Mitchell jotted down a few notes. “And you went there for?”

He shook his head, frustrated with his own behavior. “To confront her.”

“Confront her? About what’s been going on? What were you looking to get out of the meeting? Closure?”

“I wanted her to go away. I offered to pay her to leave.”

“Did she accept?”

Grant shook his head. “No. She babbled on about how she wanted my total destruction because I’d abused her during our marriage.”

Mitchell raised his gaze to Grant. “And your reaction was?”

“I told her she was just vindictive. We argued a little more and then she screamed at me to get out. I left.”

“Okay, so I’m assuming her building will have some form of security and you’ll appear on the tape. Do you know what time you were there?”

“Uh, around five thirty, maybe.”

“Got it. The footage should have the time. I just want to know where to look and whether or not we can make the case that you were not the last person to see her alive based on time of death.”

“I couldn’t have been, right?” Grant asked, his mind piecing together the puzzle. “The reports of her death didn’t go live until much later.”

“Body was found by another resident. She fell onto their balcony. So, we have no idea how long between the fall and the discovery until the ME gives us the time of death.”

Grant heaved a sigh. “I didn’t kill her. As much as I probably wanted to, I didn’t.”

“Don’t say those words ever again,” Mitchell said as he scrawled another note.

Grant nodded. “Right. Just get me out of here. I didn’t do it. And I’m tired of being arrested for murders I haven’t committed.”

“You said you weren’t charged with murder.”

“I wasn’t. They…arrested me because I refused to come down to the station to answer questions. I assume they’ve seen the footage.”

“I’ll find out. Sit tight, let me see what’s going to happen here.” Mitchell capped his pen and slid it into his pocket. With his legal pad in hand, he rose and strode to the door.

Grant found himself alone again in the icy interrogation room, lost in a tangle of his own thoughts. He hadn’t killed his ex-wife, but they suspected someone had. Was that based on the video evidence they’d seen? Could she have fallen?

She’d been drinking while they spoke. Did she have too much?