“What is my client being charged with?” crackled the cell phone. “Leighton, you don’t need to answer that.”
“This is ridiculous”, came another voice.
“Esmeralda, can you tell Detective Foster what was I doing on the fourteenth?”
“How much detail do you want me to give him?”
Leighton rolled his eyes. “However much you think is necessary to confirm I wasn’t here, planning the murder of my estranged father.”
“We were together on the fourteenth”, Esmeralda confirmed, her voice carrying a tone of bitterness.
“Are you prepared to confirm that in a court of law?” Detective Foster said, taking a moment to examine the dirt underneath his fingernails.
“Yes, I am”, Esmeralda said. “Leighton was with me all night.”
“And are you absolutely sure it was the fourteenth?”
“I have it in my diary. 8pm dinner with Leighton. 9pm until the early hours, fucking all night. Do you remember that Leighton?”
“Esmeralda, this isn’t the time.”
“The last I hear from you I’m being dumped, the next you’ve been arrested for murder. Thanks for keeping me in the loop. There’s something here for you by the way, something from Philip. I thought it was a legal pack, you know, something to do with the inheritance, but it’s not. It’s a letter or something. Some kind of apology.”
“Thank you, Esmeralda. I’ll take a look at it when I get out of here.”
“Is that it, can I go now?”
Leighton looked to Detective Foster to give the answer, his hands spread out passively.
“Someone will be in touch to take a statement”, Detective Foster said.
“When you let him out, tell him to come home. This business is falling apart without him. Do you hear me Leighton?”
Leighton sighed and Esmeralda clicked off. “What do you know about this document?” Leighton asked his legal team, but before they could respond, Detective Foster jumped in.
“I have a few more questions first, if that’s ok with you?”
“Look, inspector-”
“Detective.”
“Detective. You know I had nothing to do with this. What is it exactly you want from me?”
“How did you know your father was dying?”
“You don’t have to answer that Leighton”, came one of the voices from across the phone.
“You show up, unannounced, nobody knows who you are, you make friends with the family, particularly Gracey, and then suddenly, you inherit some astonishing amount of money. Well, astonishing for most people. I guess it’s a drop in the ocean for someone like you.”
“I came because Philip was my father”, Leighton said. “I wanted to see him before he died.”
Detective Foster leaned forward on his chair, stabbing the air with the end of his thumb. “Yeah, but how did you know that?”
Leighton sighed. “I didn’t kill Philip Mandrake De Vries, I didn’t even know him.”
There was a pause that would have been filled with the inhaling or exhaling of cigarette smoke, had either of the two men been smokers. Leighton had never picked up the habit and Detective Foster had let go of it a long time ago.
Leighton knew he didn’t have to explain any more than he already had about his father, but if he did, the Detective might let him out earlier, which meant he had much more chance of helping Gracey.
“I paid a private Detective to find him, just so I knew who he was. I didn’t make contact, I didn’t watch him from afar, I just wanted a name, and that was it. That was about five or six years ago, I don’t remember exactly. I grew up without parents, Detective. I feel like it has made me the man I am today. Parents hold children back, they limit them from reaching their full potential. I had people that looked after me for a while, but I never had what you would call ‘parents’.” Leighton made sure he encased the word in inverted commas he drew purposefully through the air.
“So why bother looking for yours if you were happy not having any?”
“Curiosity and weakness.” Leighton said leaning forwards challengingly, eyes leveled at the Detective’s. “We all have it.”
“And you found Philip?”
Leighton relaxed back into his chair.
“I did eventually, yes. He’d been careful about hiding his tracks, and I almost didn’t find him at all. I got lucky. I guess I would have done anyway, after his death.”
“Perhaps it would have been better if you had.”
Leighton had to laugh at that. “Detective, you are the one holding me in here.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
“This really isn’t relevant”, one of the lawyers said.
“I have my mother’s name, and a photo of her as a child. I have never had any intention of finding her.”
“Not even if she has a few billion dollars she wants to donate?”
“Where exactly is this line of questioning going, Detective?”
Despite agreeing with his lawyer, Leighton decided to answer the Detective’s question anyway. “I didn’t come here for the money, and it’s not why I’ve stayed either.”
“Gracey.”
Leighton took a sip from the water that had been provided for him. It tasted like copper and peat.
“She didn’t do it”, Leighton said.
Detective Foster made a sound that fell somewhere between disagreement and intrigue.
“She has motive, her prints were all over the glass he was poisoned from, the forensics team found the same poison in a vial hidden at the back of her chest of drawers, and she has no alibi.”
“She didn’t do it”, Leighton repeated. “I think you believe the same as well.”
Now it was Detective Foster’s turn to lean back in his chair.
“Am I being charged, Detective?” Leighton said evenly.
Detective Foster folded his hands over his chest, while he cocked his head to one side.
“No”, he said reluctantly. “Not today.”
Leighton shook his head. “This is a farce, and you know it. Gracey’s being set up. Whatever Pandora and Isabella and Alexis say, it’s bullshit. They are covering each other’s backs.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Tempest, have you really known Gracey long enough to make that statement? You talk about whether having parents are important, and by all accounts, you got off lightly. Philip was an absolute monster to those girls, and Gracey had every motive in the world to want the man dead.”
“Just because he was a bad father, it doesn’t mean Gracey wanted him dead, and even if she did, that doesn’t mean she killed him.”
“That may be for a judge to decide.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m a police officer, Mr. Tempest, I believe in facts. Facts don’t have emotions, they just are.”
“You are free to go, Leighton, you realize that? That is what you said, Detective, yes?” came the slightly broken message from one of the legal team.
“He’s free to go, but I might ask that he stay somewhere we can get to him quickly.”
“I hope you’ll be hauling Pandora in here”, Leighton said. “She’s obviously trying to set me up.”
“I’ll speak to Pandora again, don’t you worry.”
“Thank you for wasting my time.”
Leighton stood up, collected his coat from the back of the chair and clicked his cell phone off. Detective Foster looked up to him, his face expressionless.
“What will you do with Gracey?”
Detective Foster sighed. “That, to a certain degree, is out of my hands completely. It’s likely that she’ll be charged in the next day or so. I’ll write up an arrest report and the prosecutor will take it from there.”
“And in the meantime?”
“She’s under arrest Mr. Tempest.”
“So was I until about five minutes ago.”
Detective Foster rolled his eyes. “It won’t take me a minute to put you back unde
r if you’re changing your statement.”
“So I tell you I’m innocent and you believe me, yet when Gracey says it, it makes no difference.”
“I thought you were leaving”, Detective Foster said.
“I don’t even know why I came in the first place.”
Leighton started for the door.
“Don’t leave town, Leighton.”
Foster nodded to his sergeant to open the door.
“Believe me”, he said before leaving. “I’ll be here until you arrest the right Logan.”
Chapter 27
Gracey’s interview had lasted just over six hours. After that, she was placed in a holding cell and denied access by visitors. After his own interview, Leighton got confirmation that Gracey was in the same station and then waited patiently in the entrance hallway for her to come out, only to be swamped in the interim by scoop-hunting journalists that had somehow got hold of the story. After they were evicted, and huddled together outside waiting, Leighton was greeted by the lawyer he had managed indirectly to put in place for her, who told him flatly that she wasn’t going to be released tonight. Furious and tired, he tried to push his way past a wall of police officers towards her holding cell, only to be told firmly, that if he didn’t remove himself from the police station immediately, he would be arrested again, and charged with creating a public nuisance.
Alex Dibbell, the lawyer that his legal team had contacted, who had spent less than half of the police interview with Gracey after driving three hours to get there, filled him in on the details, and what he should expect from now on.
There was a consistency to the questions that Gracey had been asked, and a reflection of that consistency in the responses she gave. No matter what they said that she had done, no matter how much they pushed her for a confession, or taunted her with what they considered to be evidence so strong it could keep her in prison for years, Gracey maintained her innocence. She said little before the lawyer arrived, and with his advice, hardly anything after it.
Gracey would be charged as soon as the prosecutor could view the case. With the evidence they were presenting, it was almost certain it would go to court. If Gracey wasn’t offered bail, which might not be the case considering the severity of the charges she faced, she would be put in prison until the case could be heard. That could be anything between six weeks and six months, depending on the various schedules of the numerous different people involved. Leighton’s legal team would do everything they could to get bail posted, but Leighton was told to prepare himself for the very real possibility that that might not happen. A bribe, in this case, would not be the most intelligent path to follow either, so they just had to hope for a lenient prosecutor. Alex didn’t tell Leighton this, but he knew them all, and most were reactionary pricks.
“Go home, Leighton”, Alex said. “You’ve done all you can. She’s a little shook up but she’s fine. We’ll see what we can do about getting bail posted, other than that I’ll get someone to cast doubt on those tests. It’s pretty much hanging on that. No evidence, no court case. Gracey was with him before he died, but she says she didn’t kill him. She’s pretty adamant about that.”
“Just get her out of there as soon as you can.”
“You’re pretty sweet on her, huh?” Alex said. “I can see the appeal.”
“Your job, Alex”, Leighton said, before turning up the collar on his coat, fighting his way to his car, and pushing a photographer onto his ass on the way.
***
Esmeralda hadn’t exactly meant to read it all, but it hadn’t exactly been that hard to put down either. It started out as a way of getting back at her itinerant boss, and turned into a plan to win him back from whoever it was that he’d happened to fall in love with, either by fair means or foul. That, she hadn’t quite decided yet.
She figured correctly that the object of his affection was Gracey, the girl who was all over the front page of Baltimore Sun, based on what was turning into an obsession to get her released from prison, but couldn’t for the life of her work out why. As far as Esmeralda could see, there was nothing special at all about the thin lipped, slightly quirky looking potential murderess. She was pretty, in a sort of odd, classical way, if that was the kind of thing you went for, which was what surprised her the most, because it wasn’t at all what Leighton usually did go for. Gracey looked like she wouldn’t say boo to a ghost. It was Pandora that seemed like the most likely candidate, perhaps even Isabella, but definitely not Gracey. Had Esmeralda not heard it in his voice when he said her name, she would have been completely convinced that it was someone else entirely.
She skimmed through the newspaper, which had very little to say about what was going on, apart from the fact that it seemed like an open and shut case, and a full and frank confession from Gracey was expected. Leighton got a mention as being arrested and subsequently released due to conflicting testimony. It seemed that the only reason the story had got out at all, was because Pandora was the one responsible for releasing it. Three pages were dedicated to an all exclusive interview, in which she supported her claims of seeing Leighton at the house. Esmeralda couldn’t believe the audacity nor the stupidity, but it paled in comparison to what she had read in the letter from Philip to Leighton.
It was an absolute revelation to her. She knew little about Philip beyond what Leighton had told her, and the man she saw through the words was nothing like the man she imagined. Not only did he not want to give Leighton up at all, he’d struggled for his whole life with the decision he’d made. But the most surprising revelation of all to Esmeralda, was the fact that Leighton’s mother was still alive. As mad as a box of frogs, but still alive. It was like reading a best seller.
Esmeralda wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to do with the document. She had half a mind to keep it from him completely, but then figured it wouldn’t be a worthwhile punishment if he didn’t know he was being punished. If she gave it to him, he’d learn the truth about his mother and father, about the years he was being watched and the crippling sensation his father had when faced with the inability to resolve a situation he had little control over in the first place, which wasn’t necessarily such a bad thing. Leighton had always denied wanting to know those things, so maybe making him discover them was the best way to get her own back. Also, if he read the document and was pleased that he’d been given the opportunity to do so, Esmeralda stood to gain the credit for getting it to him. She’d just have to somehow cover up the fact that she’d spent half the night reading it.
***
Journalists swamped the Chesapeake Estate, taking photos of the three Logan girls, the room where the murder was committed, and Gracey’s bedroom, which had been crudely barricaded off with police hazard tape. Alexis posed, smiled sweetly and answered all the questions that were put to her with gusto. It had been Pandora’s idea, and it had been a brilliant one. Alexis made sure to wear one of her most expensive dresses, load up on gin, and lock the dog away in one of the garden sheds for fear it might rudely interrupt her moment in the limelight. Pandora was as bad as her mother, soaking up all the attention that was given to her, flirting outrageously with the muscled photographer and taking great pleasure in showing off Gracey’s room and her own. Isabella involved herself as much as she needed to, not to court too much attention. She corroborated Pandora’s story, but said little else about that fateful evening. She hadn’t found the body after all, and only knew what had happened when the police come over one night to take them all to the station. As far as she was concerned, Gracey could rot in hell. She wasn’t fond of her stepfather, but she wasn’t close to her sister either. She made pains to point out that Gracey had often mentioned that she’d be happier if Philip were dead, even though Isabella never thought she’d actually go ahead and do it herself. Pandora and Alexis were less inclined to comment. They said they were happy to leave it in the hands of the police.
“If Gracey is guilty, then she is no daughter of mine”, Alexis said. “I loved my hus
band, even though he never realized it.”
“What I can’t understand is why Leighton hasn’t been charged”, Pandora chipped in. “It makes me sick to think he’s been here.”
Journalists were camped outside Leighton’s hotel too, desperate to get to the billionaire before he disappeared into his penthouse suite, but he managed to bully past them without giving so much as a word.
Neither Leighton nor Gracey could sleep that night. Gracey tossed and turned on the paper thin mattress she’d been provided, while Leighton spent half the night talking to his legal team, the other half researching exactly what awaited her. The only piece of good news he could find, was that Maryland didn’t have the death penalty.
Chapter 28
Gracey woke with a start, when one of the attending officers brought her a thick porridge that looked like wallpaper paste, a glass of dirty water, and a cold coffee, banging on the door to get her attention. He didn’t quite slide it through a flap in the door, but it certainly wouldn’t have been out of place, based on the night she’d had.
Six hours in the interview room and six more of broken sleep, her only distraction from what was going on, the incredible moment of passion she’d shared with Leighton. That already seemed like a million years ago. For all she knew Leighton was locked up in the cell next to her. She thought she’d heard his voice in the middle of the night, but it could equally have been a dream.
“I thought we were in the twenty first century”, Gracey said, rubbing her sore neck and looking disappointedly at the breakfast tray.
“This isn’t a hotel”, the ward sergeant remarked. “And I made that myself so don’t be getting all catty on me.”
Gracey lifted a spoonful of porridge into the air, grimaced and then pushed the tray to the side. She’d rather go hungry than risk being poisoned. The irony made her laugh.
“Suit yourself”, the sergeant said. “It might be a long time before lunch.”
“Can you tell me what’s going on, please?”
DONKEY: A Stepbrother Sports Romance (With FREE Bonus Novel Charged!) Page 38
