by S. E. Lund
“My husband will want to be present," I said.
"We'd rather he not be present," St. James said.
"That's not possible," I said, remembering how angry Drake had been that I did the interview with the police without him. "Drake will want to be here."
"We can bring you in to the precinct if it's impossible for us to see you at your house alone, but I thought it would be easier for you, considering."
"Why can't Drake be present?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end. "Mrs. Morgan, your husband is a person of interest in our investigation. Surely you can understand why we want to discuss the case with you alone…"
"He's not involved," I said plainly. "He's innocent. Can't you see that? Lisa's a nutcase. She fabricated everything to hurt Drake when she realized she can't have him."
"What time works best for you so we can come by?" St. James said as if he hadn't heard a thing I said.
I sighed. "Should I have my lawyer come over at least?” I asked.
“Do you need your lawyer?” he asked, his voice sounding impatient.
“Of course not, but I wondered…”
“Invite your lawyer if you want,” he said. “But it’s unnecessary. You’re the victim. You’re not going to be charged with anything. We want to make sure every ‘T’ is crossed and every ‘I’ dotted. If we could come by at 2:30 or 3:00, we’d appreciate it.”
“Okay,” I said and sighed. “Around three would be best but Drake will be upset that he's not allowed to sit in with me.”
"We'll be talking to him separately. He'll get his chance to respond."
I hung up and looked at Sophie, who was asleep in her chair, her pacifier occasionally moving as she sucked away contentedly.
“Poor Sophie, has a mother who’s being interviewed by the cops and a dad who's a person of interest.” Of course, that made me cry and I sat and wiped tears away from my eyes. Just then, Drake walked in after a trip to the store for some groceries. He had two bags in hand, with some celery sticking out the top of one and a fresh baguette out of the other.
He saw me and immediately placed the bags on the dining room table, a look of concern on his face.
“Katie,” he whispered and knelt where I sat on the couch. “What’s the matter?”
He took my hands and then sat beside me, his jacket still on. He wiped tears off my cheeks and of course I felt like a baby, crying like that.
“Oh, nothing,” I said and tried to control my emotions. “Detective St. James called and wants to come over this afternoon to go over the attack again. It just upset me, that all this is happening. And I hate him,” I said, remembering the expression on his face. So self-satisfied.
“Oh, sweetie,” he said and pulled me into his arms. I let him, burying my face in his jacket, which smelled of the outdoors, still a bit cool. “Why the hell do they want to come over again? Don’t they understand what you’ve been through? How many damn times do they have to interview you?”
I pulled away and shook my head. “They said they wanted to go over a few matters and that it was routine.”
“I'll cancel my meeting at the corporation,” he said and glanced over to where Sophie was sleeping. “I’ll stay and sit with you while they question you.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “You go. They didn't want you to be here and said if necessary, I'd have to go to the precinct. I'd rather not go out so I’ll ask Lara if she can come and do the interview with me. She volunteered.”
“I’ll call her right now,” Drake said and pulled out his cell. He entered in her number on the keypad and put the phone on speaker. It rang twice before Lara answered.
“Hey, Drake,” she said cheerfully. “How’re things?”
“Sorry to bother you, but the police have asked to come by to ask some questions of Kate this afternoon. They don’t want me here during the interview. Kate wanted to know if you can come.”
“Oh, I can’t,” she replied, her voice sounding frustrated. “I’m in court this afternoon. Why the hell are they interviewing Kate again?”
“They said it’s routine,” I called out. “That’s okay if you’re busy, Lara. I can do it by myself.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I can send over one of my junior lawyers. They can advise you in case they ask you anything you shouldn’t answer or don’t have to answer.”
“I don’t know if that’s necessary,” I said. “I have nothing to hide. I did nothing wrong, so why would I not want to answer their questions?”
“Believe me, Kate, you do not want to answer their questions without a lawyer present. If they’re on the wrong track with this case, they can twist things like you wouldn’t believe. Take my advice. Let me send one of my junior staff.”
I sighed, not wanting some stranger to listen to all the private details of my life with Drake. “If you think it’s a good idea.”
“I do think it’s a good idea. I’ll send Dana. She’s nice and bright. You’ll like her. She knows the law about cases like this so she’ll be a great addition.”
“Okay,” I said, reluctant now that I had to face this.
“You okay?” she said, her voice sounding hesitant. “I’d prefer to be with you, but this is the best I can do on short notice.”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks for your help.”
“Yes, thanks,” Drake added. “I offered to stay with her, but as I said, the police didn’t want to interview her when I was present.”
“I understand,” Lara said. "They're afraid you'd influence her."
Finally, we said goodbye and Drake hung up.
“There,” he said and tucked his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Aren’t you glad I phoned? It’s better that you have someone with you who knows what’s kosher. I like cops, but Lara’s right. If they think I’m guilty, they might be searching for something from you that might help pin it on me. I’ve read about cases where the cops got tunnel vision and went off on the wrong tangent, ignoring evidence in their faces because it didn’t fit their theory.”
I nodded and picked Sophie up out of her chair, wanting to feel her warm little body in my arms. “I’m glad I’ll have one of Lara’s staff here with me. I’m sure it’s nothing.” I put Sophie up on my shoulder and she seemed content to sit with me and look at the big painting behind the sofa. It had bright colors and dark lines, and seemed especially interesting to her.
“I hope so,” Drake said doubtfully, “but you can never be sure they don’t believe Lisa. The cops always start with the significant other in cases of attempted murder and murder.”
“Why is Lisa doing this?” I asked, frustrated that we couldn’t get her out of our lives no matter what. “She must be nuts.”
“She’s definitely off the deep end if she’s suggesting I asked her to run you down. You know that, right?”
I frowned at Drake. “Of course I do,” I said, feeling bad that he even had to say it out loud. “I know you love me. I know you tried to quit when you learned Lisa was in your class.”
Of course, that made me cry again and I wiped my eyes, not wanting Drake to see how close to tears I always seemed to be.
“Kate,” he said and took Sophie from me. He placed her in her swing and turned on the little mobile that hung above her head and she was happy to sit there and watch the little stuffed toys bounce around. Then he came to me and pulled me into his arms.
“I’m hiring Dave’s aunt, Karen Mills, to come in and help us. You need to have some sleep and you need to stop worrying so much about everything. I’m fine. Sophie’s healthy. You’re healthy. This trial will be over soon enough. They’ll try Lisa for attempted murder, probably find her not guilty by reason of temporary insanity and lock her up in a psychiatric hospital. Then, we’ll be able to spend time with Sophie, maybe take a nice holiday with her and get away from it all. How does that sound?”
I leaned into his arms and buried my face in his shoulder. “It sounds wonderful. I’d love to go somewh
ere warm, but is Sophie old enough?”
“We’ll go in March. Sophie will be seven months old and will have all her first shots.”
I nodded and closed my eyes, thinking about escaping the whole business of the trial for a nice white-sand beach.
“Maybe we could go back to the Bahamas.”
“We could. Or maybe we could go to Africa. Visit my dad’s grave like we’ve been planning.
I glanced in his eyes. “Is it safe to take a baby to Africa? What about malaria and all those other tropical diseases?”
He nodded. “We should probably wait until she’s a year old for that. We could always go down to Key West or Pensacola.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I said and tried to brighten up, but the prospects of a talk with detectives dampened my mood even further.
Drake left the apartment for his meeting with reluctance. Since I wanted to do the interview at home instead of at the precinct, I sat alone in the living room, waiting for the law clerk named Dana who was going to come over for my 3:00 meeting. She finally arrived and reminded me so much of Lara, with her crisp pinstripe suit, her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun and her dark horn rimmed glasses.
“Kate?” she said and held out her hand. “I’m Dana Johnston. Lara’s assistant. Pleased to meet you.”
We shook and then sat in the living, waiting for the detectives to arrive.
“I’ve read all I could about the case and Lara’s notes based on her discussions with both you and Drake. I’m sure this is just routine, but if you feel at all awkward about anything the police ask you, turn to me. We can discuss it or I can suggest that the police change their line of questioning. They’ll probably ask about how you met Drake and what he told you about Lisa. That kind of thing.”
I exhaled in frustration. “They already asked me about that. Why do they keep asking the same questions?”
She shrugged. “Hoping to see some consistency – or inconsistency – in your answers. They may think that he has you under his control because he’s a Dominant and you’re a submissive. They may be worried you’re lying for him, that kind of thing.”
“That’s only a small part of our relationship,” I said in anger. “We’re not TPE. We’re not 24/7.”
“They don’t understand. To them, it’s all titillation and suspect.”
I nodded. “I’ll answer what I can. Honestly, Drake had nothing to do with any of this and did everything he could to protect himself and me. She’s delusional.”
“I know that and you know that. Hopefully, they know that after they finish their investigation.”
Finally, Detectives McDonald and St. James arrived and rang the buzzer. I let them in the building and then when they arrived at the front door, I opened it and welcomed them in.
Once we got seated, and after a round of introductions, where I let them know who Dana was, they asked their questions.
The questions weren’t all that different from what they asked me before. I recounted what I remembered from the day of the attack, walking down the street after I’d talked to Drake on my cell.
“I remember deciding to cross the street and noticing that my bodyguard was in a car a few spaces away. I saw him pull out and that was it. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital after surgery.”
Detective McDonald’s face was blank, showing no emotion or judgement. He merely made marks in his little notebook, as if he was writing down something of importance.
“I’ve already told you this,” I said, frowning. “I don’t see how this is anything new.”
“Please continue,” he said and gestured with his chin. “What did your husband tell you about the accident?”
I shook my head. “I remember him telling me I’d been in an accident and that my baby had been delivered by emergency C-section. I remember him saying that I she was doing well and that I was recovering. That was all he told me at first. I was recovering from a pretty terrible injury.”
He nodded. “When did he tell you that he suspected Ms. Monroe was the driver who hit you?”
“It was a week or so later,” I said, trying to remember back to the time immediately following the attack. “When you and your partner first came in to ask me questions. Drake told me that you thought Lisa had done it. You traced the rental car to her. She had no alibi.”
“And what did you think when he told you that?”
I sighed. “I felt incredibly bad. I mean, Drake did everything he could to keep her at arm’s length. He was going to withdraw from the Fellowship program because he didn’t think she could keep things professional between them. She kept insisting that they be friends. Friendly. You know, spend time together at work. Have lunch together. Get coffee. That sort of thing. He told her no, but she threatened him.”
“How did she threaten him?”
“She said that people would be interested to learn about their shared past. She even said something about it when they were out for drinks as a group.”
“What did you say to him about how he should handle the situation?”
I thought back to that time and how I’d encouraged Drake to stay in the program.
“I didn’t want her to ruin Drake’s chance to get his Fellowship,” I said. “I told him to humor her. Be nice, but don’t do anything that might encourage her. I know that’s hard to do with someone like her.”
That seemed to pique Detective St. James’s interest. “What do you mean, someone like her?”
I shrugged. “She was obviously obsessed with him. She wanted to have an affair with him and he refused. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“What did he tell you about his past relationship with her?”
I leaned back, thinking about what Drake had told me. “He said that he had topped her on a couple of occasions at a party he attended at her boyfriend’s house.”
“You didn’t think that was surprising?”
I shrugged. I knew what he was getting at. “If you mean, was I jealous? I knew about his past. That didn’t matter to me. In fact, it was a selling point.”
“How so?” he asked.
“Because I knew he had experience and knew who he was. I found that appealing. He told me everything when we became serious about each other. I knew all about his past sexual partners. I knew about his sexual interests. So, when he told me about Lisa, I wasn’t shocked.”
“You weren’t worried that he’d have an affair with her, given their past relationship?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. She was nothing to him. Nothing but a past sexual partner. He had no interest in her as a person. He’s in love with me. He loves me. He loves his life with me and our baby.”
“That’s what he told us. In fact, that’s almost exactly what he told us. Almost word for word.”
I frowned and turned to Dana. She raised her eyebrows. “I think Mrs. Morgan has answered enough questions along this line."
“I’m surprised at how closely her testimony mirrors Dr. Morgan’s.”
“It’s not testimony,” Dana said firmly. “It’s her statement. This isn’t a court of law.”
“No, it isn’t. We’re gathering information. I was merely noting how similar her statement was to Dr. Morgan’s.”
“Maybe that’s because it’s the truth,” I said, my heart rate increasing at the insinuation that I had rehearsed what I was going to say – or worse, that Drake had coached me. That we were getting our stories straight, like Dana suggested previously.
“Maybe,” Detective St. James said, pursing his lips as if he doubted it was the truth. “Or maybe you’re afraid of him and are telling us what he wants us to hear.”
“No--.” I said but he held up a hand.
“Mrs. Morgan, we know that Dr. Morgan was involved in the BDSM community prior to meeting you. We know that he’s what’s considered a ‘Dominant’ and has a very strong personality and likes to be in control.”
“He’s also a neurosurgeon and being in control is essent
ial to their success rate. One false move…” I said, angry at the suggestion that Drake was controlling me, manipulating me to say what he wanted me to say.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s the case,” Detective St. James said quickly. “But we also know that he likes to control the relationship he has with women.”
Drake did like control. In the past, he used control to keep his relationships with women at arm’s length. He didn’t need to do that anymore – not with me. He tried to keep women at arm’s length because he was afraid to get hurt again.
How could I tell that to Detective St. James? He was probably titillated by the whole BDSM connection and the fact that Drake was a Dominant. He probably thought Drake was a control freak who liked to hurt women.
“In fact, he’s all about control, or so he says in these emails he wrote to Ms. Monroe.” He held up some more sheets of paper taken from a folder.
“May I see those letters?" I asked.
St. James seemed only too happy to hand them over, like he was hoping that they'd upset me so much that I'd reveal something, incriminate Drake.
I took the pages and read them over. There were a dozen, dated over the past year. One seemed familiar, and then I realized that it contained text from Drake's letters to his submissives.
I've known every part of you – every naked inch, inside and out.
I can't wait to bind you with my leather restraints and make you cry out my name as you come, again and again. Then, I will really kiss you, smothering your moans with my mouth...
Lisa had copied them verbatim and used them in her fake letters. I didn’t know what to say about it. Should I let them know?
“I wanted you to see what your husband has been writing to Ms. Monroe."
"My husband didn’t write those letters,” I said plainly. “That's not his email address."
"That you know of. Many people have several email addresses. Are you sure you know them all?"
"Drake is a happily married man and isn’t interested in being part of that lifestyle any longer,” I said, although that wasn’t exactly true. He was only interested in it as fun and games now, with me. Maybe we might have considered going to a dungeon party for fun, and because it excited us both, but now that we had Sophie? We had better and more important things to do.
