My heart speeding up once more, I huff a breath of anticipation, then smile and shove him behind the door, calling out, “I’m in the tasting room, Beth.”
High heels click lightly on the stone floor before she appears in the doorway. “What are you still doing down here? I saw Sylvia and Richard come up a while ago.”
I pull open one of the wine drawers and turn a couple bottles around, facing the labels outward. “I was just putting the room back the way we found it. Richard is nice, but after inspecting the wines, he set the bottles back on the racks without making sure the labels faced outward. He touched so many, I was checking every drawer.”
Beth waves toward the drawers, her tone dismissive. “If you’re doing this in an attempt to avoid Jake, don’t worry. He felt too sick to stick around, but you do need to come upstairs with me right away.”
“What’s so important?” I start to shut off the light, then pause, tensing. “Is Ben here?”
When Beth shakes her head, my shoulder muscles relax. Flipping the switch, I follow her to the elevator and step inside. “So what’s up?”
While the elevator moves upward, Beth turns to me, her gaze anxious. “The police arrived five minutes ago and asked to speak with you.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I exit a closet in the hallway upstairs. I pull it out and notice I have a text from Bash, but when I see Gil’s name in the ID, my chest tightens. Gil never calls. Is he having a relapse? Pausing, I quickly answer.
“Hey, Gil. Is everything all right?”
“I’m calling for a reason, Calder, and I want you to listen this time.”
Gil’s tone is harsh, reminding me of that night he sprayed me with the fire hose. My fingers flex on the phone. I don’t like leaving Cass this long. “Can this wait until later?”
“No, it can’t. I ran into Alana earlier and she told me about the gift she helped you with.”
“That was supposed to be private,” I say, my jaw clenching.
“Yeah well, she only told me because I asked why you two didn’t work out.”
I snort, annoyed with Gil’s meddling. “This isn’t important, Gil. I’m hanging up now.”
I start to push End, but his harsh tone has my finger pausing over the button. “Calder Jackson Blake. Listen to me, damn your stubborn hide.”
I put the phone to my ear once more. “What?”
“This is about the young woman you had the necklace made for. She’s the one I asked about, right? The one you said you’re guarding. If you truly care about her—”
“Gil…”
“Just shut it, kid. This is about your mom.”
I stiffen and grit out, “What?”
“You wouldn’t let me tell you in the past. Now you’re going to listen, damn it. The incident your mother referred to in her letter wasn’t an affair. Becca was drugged and rap—”
“Stop,” I cut him off, my whole body shaking with fury. I stride forward, my steps fast and determined as I head down the hall and turn for the stairs.
Gil sighs. “That bastard runs in those circles, Calder. Keep your woman safe. I don’t want history to repeat itself.”
“I won’t fucking let that happen,” I say, hitting the End button.
Guilt and anger crush my chest. I’m furious that I let my own pain keep me from hearing the truth, and in doing so put Cass at risk. Vengeance builds with each step I take, but right now getting to Cass is my first priority.
As I start down the stairs, Bash is halfway up, a determined look on his face.
My gaze shifts to the people standing downstairs. Everyone is quiet, all staring at the foyer. I follow their line of sight and freeze.
Two police officers flank Cass on either side. Their hands clasping her arms as they walk her toward the door, while Phillip, Gregory, and Beth stand there watching. Is Beth crying?
“No!” I bark out and rush forward.
Bash hooks his arm across my chest, forcing me to a halt, his words low but harsh in my ear, “Stop, Cald!”
I turn my fury on him, my tone deadly. “Let go.”
“I won’t let you fuck this up!” He grabs my arm in a tight grip and hauls me upstairs into the hall.
As soon as we’re on even ground, I yank my arm free and start to go around him.
Bash grabs my hand and twists it behind my back, his words sharp but calm. “I’ve already called my lawyer to meet them at the station, Cald. You need to calm the hell down and think. I won’t let you tip off any of those pricks down there that we’re building evidence against them.”
“Why the hell are they taking her?” I twist free of his hold and dig my fingers into my hair. Pacing, I inhale and exhale several times, trying to get a grip.
“I’m not sure, but we’ll find out. Are you calm now?” he asks, his arms crossed. “I normally don’t have to explain strategic moves to you.”
I turn to him, my whole body vibrating. “You don’t understand.”
Bash frowns. “Explain.”
I shake my head and walk away. I know he’s right and we need to stay on course, but Cass should never have had to go with the police in the first place. She’s being railroaded. “They’d better not fucking charge her or I’m going to go ballistic.”
“Calder…what the hell is going on with you?”
I blow out a shaky breath and turn to face him. “I just found out that my mother didn’t have an affair. The guy drugged and took advantage of her. Gil has been trying to tell me, but I didn’t want to hear anything about the past. He called and demanded that I hear the truth.”
The brackets around Bash’s mouth deepen. “I’m sorry, Calder. I know that’s a harsh blow, but why did Gil choose now to make you listen?”
I clench my hand into a fist, wanting to punch something. “He knows I care about the person I’m guarding, so he called to warn me. He doesn’t want anything to happen to her.”
Shaking his head in confusion, Bash moves closer. “Why would he think something might happen to her?”
“Because my father is Phillip Hemming, that’s fucking why!”
“What the hell, Calder,” Bash’s low, angry tone hangs between us. Walking away from me, he paces twice, then steps right in my face. “You’re too fucking close to work this case with any kind of objectivity. How could you not tell me?”
I cross my arms and stare him down. “I didn’t tell you, because it was no one’s fucking business who my mother cheated on my father with.”
“Except she didn’t,” Bash counters, his expression stony.
“And now that you know, I’d appreciate you keeping my sick-as-fuck family tree to yourself,” I shoot back. “This is my case. I will see it through.”
“No, you won’t. You’re going to go train for that fight. Cass is out of danger now. I’ll take over the case.”
“Out of danger?” I slice my hand toward the bottom floor. “She’s going to the goddamn police station.”
“Where she’s no longer having to pretend to be Celeste and she’s out of Phillip’s reach.”
We stand there staring each other down, a battle of wills silently raging.
Talia enters the hall and approaches. “Everyone is leaving. It’s time to go.”
When neither Bash nor I blink, she steps between us, her voice stronger. “My best friend is at the police station. I would like to go be with her. Point me to Celeste’s room so I can get her phone. I don’t believe she brought anything else with her.”
I gesture to the room at the end of the hall. “I’ll see you two at the station.” When I start to walk away, she grabs my arm.
“I’m sorry, Calder, but until you’re done with the EUC, it’s too dangerous for you to be seen with Cass on a personal level.”
I shake my head. “I won’t let her think I abandoned her.”
“Don’t worry,” Talia says, releasing me. “I’ll tell her I wouldn’t let you come. Go home. We’ll keep you updated.”
My gaze snaps to Bash, whose
tense expression clearly says, That was a perfect example of you not thinking clearly. Pulling Talia to his side, he addresses me. “Go collect your stuff, and no matter how much you want to, do not engage with Phillip on your way out. As far as you’re concerned, your trial guard role is over.” When I curl my lip in a frustrated snarl, the tension in Bash’s tone amps. “I promise you we’ll make the bastard pay for every despicable thing he’s done, Calder.”
This is a freaking nightmare. I rub my temples and try to ignore the two detectives hovering over me in the police interrogation room like a couple of vultures waiting for me to finally keel over.
“Why don’t you run it down for us again?” the potbellied, middle-aged cop in a brown wrinkled suit jacket pulls up a chair and sits at the table across from me.
“Because all identity thieves are honest, right, Joe?” his female partner in a sharp pantsuit and a pixie cut says as she walks the floor behind him.
“Stop pacing, it’s making me dizzy, Tori,” he grunts, then looks at me expectantly.
I sigh, wondering if I repeat what I’ve already said several times after I made my one phone call to Talia, if they’d actually hear me this time. “I’m not saying a word without my lawyer. We can do this all night.”
“If you’re innocent, what does it matter?” Tori props her fit butt on the corner of the table in the small interrogation room, while her partner unbuttons his straining jacket and flips open his notebook and reads off the notes.
“According to our officers, an anonymous tip was called in this evening stating that you were impersonating Celeste Carver and that the real Celeste is missing.” He pauses and gestures to me. “The Carver family says you claim that Celeste asked you to be her for one night and when she didn’t show the next day, they asked you to continue on through tonight’s event in the hopes they could locate her without a lot of media attention. Is that about right?”
I want to yell at them, “Yes, damn it!” but then after what I experienced once Beth and I walked into Gregory’s office an hour ago, my response stays firmly stuck in my throat. Could I have said or done anything differently that wouldn’t have landed me here in this room?
“Thank you for bringing her, Beth.” Phillip said. He gestured to the cop and continued, “This police officer is following up on an anonymous tip called in earlier tonight that suggested you’re impersonating Celeste.”
I looked at Phillip and Gregory, unsure what was going on in their heads, but one thing was for certain, I refused to lie to the police again. “Yes, it’s true,” I address the uniformed police officer and tried not to get too anxious about the second officer waiting just outside the office door. “I’m not Celeste Carver. My name is Cassandra Rockwell and Celeste asked me to impersonate her for one night during her father’s political event. When she didn’t arrive home, I—”
“Let me stop you right there...” The police officer interrupted me and glanced down at the notepad in his hand. “Was that you the other night when the police came by asking about the abandoned vehicle they found with blood and Celeste Carver’s ID in it?”
I nodded. “Yes, that was me. It was the night Celeste asked me to be her. I was out with her sister, Beth, and was supposed to meet up with her and switch places, but she didn’t contact me, so I went back to her house. When I arrived, the police were here. You have to understand, Celeste was adamant that no one know I was pretending to be her, so I stayed quiet that night in the hopes she would contact me. The next morning, when I still hadn’t heard from her, I told her family the truth. That’s when they asked me to continue on as Celeste so they could quietly look for her while hopefully avoiding a media frenzy during Mr. Carver’s events.”
“Asking Miss Rockwell to stay on gave us a chance to conduct our own search for Celeste in places she might’ve gone,” Phillip said smoothly as he walked over and opened a filing cabinet drawer. “But it also gave us time to conduct our own investigation into Miss Rockwell’s story.”
Investigate me? I gaped at him. “You know it’s not a story,” I said, my heart thumping hard as I watched him pull out a folder and the cell phone that Celeste gave me.
“We still hope to locate Celeste,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “But now that it has been forty-eight hours, it’s time to turn this over to the authorities.” He hands the folder and the cell phone that Celeste gave me to the police officer. “I believe you’ll find ample evidence in here to question Miss Rockwell in Celeste’s disappearance, starting with the fact she made up the entire story of Celeste asking her to pretend to be her in the first place.”
“What evidence?” I gestured to the phone. “There is proof on that phone that Celeste recruited me. Texts—”
“I found no such texts,” Phillip stared at me with a bold, accusing gaze.
“That’s a lie. If they aren’t there, then you deleted them.”
Gregory cleared his throat and glanced my way, frustration and betrayal in his gaze. “As Phillip mentioned, there are no texts between Celeste and Miss Rockwell on that phone. It is a clone of my daughter’s phone, but we have since learned it’s not hard to clone a phone if you have the right equipment. In the folder you’ll not only find interviews of past classmates who state that my daughter was never friends with Miss Rockwell in high school, but actually the opposite. These classmates claimed that Miss Rockwell hated my daughter for some perceived wrong Celeste did to her in high school.”
When I glanced at Beth and shook my head, she took a step away from me, her eyes wide. “Is that true, Cass?”
I gripped the back of the leather chair for support. “Your sister did play a prank on me in high school and I didn’t like her for it. That is true, but I wasn’t obsessed with Celeste. She came to me for help, Beth. That’s the truth.”
“Didn’t you say that you pretended to be Celeste at a party in the past?” Phillip asked. “Did she ask you to be her back then too?”
“No, she didn’t ask, but it’s not what you think—”
“So you did it for what…kicks?” Phillip doesn’t give me a chance to answer before addressing the police officer. “In the folder, there is also a copy of Miss Rockwell’s medical history from a hospital stay a few years ago where she was put on suicide watch.”
“That’s private! How dare you dig through my medical records.”
Phillip doesn’t spare me a glance. “I believe that’s enough to show her mental state isn’t a stable one and could absolutely contribute to her becoming obsessed with Celeste. Not only does her photography business give you another data point into her obsession with an ultra rich lifestyle like Celeste had, but my son, Jake, claims Miss Rockwell hated the fact he only had eyes for Celeste and wouldn’t give her the time of day back in high school.”
“You knew Jake? Why did you pretend you didn’t know him?” Beth looked at me as if every lie Phillip just told had spread through her mind like a disease.
Phillip pointed to the folder. “You’ll find a sample of Celeste’s hair in that plastic sleeve stapled to the top. Please have it tested against the blood that was found in that abandoned car. We’re hoping it won’t match, but at this point…we’ve almost exhausted all the places we can think to look and need your help.”
“Why don’t you tell them you’ve already had someone in the lab test a sample of Celeste’s hair against the blood they found?”
The police officer turned his gaze on Phillip, a frown on his face. “Is that true? You can’t tamper with evidence. We want this person’s name.”
When Phillip didn’t speak right away, the officer demanded, “Right now, sir.”
Once Phillip grudgingly provided the man’s name, the officer snapped the folder shut and turned to me. “Based on this, we have to take you in for questioning, Miss Rockwell.”
I wanted to tell him that they had it all wrong, that Phillip is the one they should be looking into, that they needed to know that Celeste was pregnant, but I didn’t know for sure if Talia ever
got Phillip’s glass, and without his DNA, we might not have enough to build a case against him. Instead, I said, “This is insanity. I’m being framed!”
Sympathy reflected in the officer’s eyes. “I’m following procedure, Miss Rockwell. A young woman is missing and you’re the last person to speak with her. This is just a formality.”
I tensed when he reached for my arm. “I insist on my phone call the moment we reach the station.”
As the officer walked me out of the room, I glanced Beth’s way, surprised that she didn’t bring up the pregnancy. She looked confused and hurt and was probably wondering if I somehow manufactured the whole pregnancy scenario too. Pausing in front of her, I said, “Celeste asked for my help for a reason. You have to believe that.”
“Miss Rockwell, do you know what the penalty is for impeding an investigation?” the detective’s gruff voice pulls my attention back to them.
“A lot less than a murder rap, that’s for sure,” Tori says, snorting.
I jerk my gaze to hers. “Murder?”
She flips open a blue folder and reads the contents. “According to the lab report, based on the amount of blood found in that abandoned car, there’s no way the person survived that much blood loss. So you’d better pray that the blood isn’t Celeste Carver’s, or you’re potentially looking at a murder charge, Miss Rockwell. If you start talking now and tell us where you dumped the body, we might be able to talk the district attorney into reducing your sentence.”
I’m so shocked by the proof that Celeste has been murdered, I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I try once more but a tiny woman with striking silver hair opens the door. “Not a word, Cass. Understand?” When I nod, she turns to the two detectives, her bobbed hair swinging with her movements. “I’m Felicity Danvers and you two have no right to talk to my client without her lawyer present. Get out of this room right now before I have you both written up.”
Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5) Page 18
