The uniformed officer and his companion, who’d been chatting on the flagstone walkway, both took several steps closer until they were but a few feet away as I stood in the open doorway.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I was in bed with a nasty headache.”
The younger officer—dark-haired with olive skin and amber-colored eyes—stood unmoved with his hands resting on his well-equipped gun belt, his brow set low and his jaw rigid. His colleague looked more relaxed, his expression serious, but friendly enough. His close-cropped, silver hair emphasized his sense of authority, so I locked in on him. He smiled, subtle, but enough to steady my uneasiness at the cops summoning me to my front door on a Sunday morning. It was then I noticed, both by the young man’s uniform, as well as his patrol cruiser, that they did not hail from the local Medina Police Department, but rather from Seattle, something I missed when I glanced at the ID.
“We apologize for disturbing your weekend, Mrs. Ross. I’m Detective Matt Reed, and this is Officer Amari,” the silver fox said as he nodded toward his partner.
I gave them each a tight-lipped smile and a nod of my own before focusing in on Reed. The fact he was a detective concerned me a great deal, and I wondered what on earth could have brought them to my doorstep.
“What can I help you with?” I asked.
The detective’s mouth mashed together for a moment, and he bowed his head. “May we come inside? Speak in private?”
I couldn’t help my eyes from bugging out a little as I worried even more what was serious enough to warrant a private conversation. Nervous, I swung the door wide and raised my arm to welcome the pair in. I ushered them to the kitchen and offered coffee and water, which they both declined. They were all business, both of them. Officer Amari removed his hat and stood at ease with his feet apart. Detective Reed laid his hands along the back of a barstool, the kitchen island between us.
“When was the last time you saw or spoke to your husband, Mrs. Ross?” Reed asked.
That he asked proved he knew Declan wasn’t home. “Why? Is he all right? I mean, was he drinking or something, get arrested?”
Reed tilted his head to the side. “Why do you ask, Mrs. Ross?”
I shrugged. “Because we had a fight last night, an argument. He left in a huff around, I don’t know, midnight or so.”
“And do you know where he went after he left here?” Reed asked.
That question stopped me short, because, yes, I knew exactly where he likely went. But was it wise to share that without knowing what the problem was first?
“No, I don’t. He hasn’t called me since he left.” I took a step closer, my hands on the island counter. “What is this about, Detective Reed?”
He answered with another question. “Have you been home the entire time since he left?”
I looked from Reed to Officer Amari and back to the detective again. “Why does it feel like I’m being interrogated?”
“Just answer the question, please, Mrs. Ross.”
I snorted, but realized it would do very little to placate them, so I answered, “Yes, I’ve been here since Declan left.”
“And were you alone?”
I shook my head. “No, my son was here, I’m sure.”
“You’re sure?” he mimicked.
“He took his girlfriend home last night, probably stayed over there for a while, then came home and went to bed.”
“Did you see him come home?”
“No, but that’s his usual routine.”
“And where is he now, Mrs. Ross?”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave oven. “I don’t know. Probably with Gracie and their study group, preparing for the SAT. They’re all taking it for the first time next Saturday.”
Reed glanced over my shoulder at the empty bottle and dirty wine glass sitting side by side in the sink. “Were you drinking last night, Mrs. Ross?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a single brow. “I’m allowed to drink in my own home, Detective.”
“I never said you weren’t, ma’am.”
“What the hell is going on? Explain why you’re here, or I’ll call my attorney.”
Again with that whole tilting of his head thing. “Not a bad idea, Mrs. Ross.”
My mouth gaped open. “What? Why? Tell me right now or I swear, I’ll—”
“Mrs. Ross,” he broke in, “I’m very sorry to inform you that your husband’s body was found this morning at a private residence in Seattle.” He stood there and stared, obviously gauging my reaction.
My jaw sagged open. It was the only thing I could manage at the moment. I was stunned, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone string words together.
After a full minute, I shook my head and raised my hands. “Wait. What? My husband’s body? He’s dead? Are you…are you sure?”
Reed nodded. “Yes, ma’am, the medical examiner confirmed his death.”
I shook my head yet again. “No, I mean, are you sure it’s Declan?” I asked, unable to believe it was actually him.
Another nod. “Yes, ma’am. Though we’ll require someone to positively identify his body, his wallet and ID were…nearby,” he explained a bit uncomfortably.
“Nearby? Nearby where?” I wondered, afraid to hear my suspicions confirmed.
Detective Reed pulled out his cell phone, swiped his finger across it then tapped the screen a few times before reading directly from it. “Newport Way in Madrona. Residence of a Ms. Aurelia Wylde.”
I felt myself deflate all at once, collapsing to my knees as my hands gripped the counter’s edge above my head. Oh, dear God, no. Declan dead? I might not love him anymore, I might have been angry at his betrayal and who he’d chosen to betray me with, but I certainly didn’t want him dead. This was incomprehensible. And oh my God, Ian. What about our son? I started to hyperventilate at the thought of telling him.
Both Detective Reed and Officer Amari stepped in my direction.
“Mrs. Ross, do you need assistance?” Reed asked, then, “Mrs. Ross?” again when I failed to respond.
I nodded as blood rushed through my ears with the ferocity of a runaway freight train. Detective Reed grabbed my elbow, pulled me to my feet, and directed me to a chair at the kitchen table. He slid another up close while I sat there in shock, unable to think or speak.
“Is there someone we can call for you?” Reed asked.
With a hand to my heart and my eyes pinned to the floor, I shook my head.
“Mrs. Ross,” Reed continued, “do you know Ms. Wylde or have any idea what your husband was doing at her house?”
I raised my eyes to his, silently pleading with him not to go there, not yet. I’m sure my knowledge was deeply etched in my expression, almost as if that scene at Aurelia’s were reflected back at him through my eyes. I took a ragged breath.
“Where is Aurelia?” I asked. “She must be very upset.”
Reed lifted a single brow. “You’re acquainted with her then?”
I nodded. “Best friends since high school.” My elbows on the table, I rested my head in both hands. “How?” I asked once I finally had the nerve to look back up. “How did he die?”
Reed sighed. “Looks like a heart attack.”
“What?” I shrieked. “Was it those pills? Those blue ones? ‘Cause I saw them once, together, and those pills were scattered all over. He should know better, goddammit. I mean, he should’ve known.” Then something Reed said settled into my foggy, achy brain. “Wait. You said ‘found.’ Earlier. You said Declan was found dead. Not that Aurelia called 9-1-1 or that he couldn’t be resuscitated. Found. So…who found him? And where the hell was Aurelia? Did she leave him alone with all those drugs in his system?” I stared at Detective Reed, then at Officer Amari when Reed didn’t answer. “Where was Aurelia?” I yelled, shocked at myself for feeling resentful when Declan hardly deserved my loyalty.
“Mrs. Ross…” Reed began. He stopped and swallowed.
I slumped back in my seat. “Just
tell me. I’ve known about them for weeks. Caught them red-handed. Saw them with my own eyes. So nothing else you say could shock me now.”
Reed nodded and stood from his chair, towering over me. He took a step back and stuffed a hand into his pocket, exposing his holstered sidearm. “Ms. Wylde was also found dead at the residence, Mrs. Ross. Asphyxiated and still hanging from the ceiling with a belt around her neck.”
I stood up, too, my legs shaking as nausea tumbled around my belly. “W-what?” I hardly got the word out before I tumbled to the floor.
“Mrs. Ross!” Reed barked and pulled me back into my chair, where I trembled in shock.
Declan and Aurelia both dead? This was madness! How was it even possible? My husband, and now my best friend? This could not be happening. All those confounding feelings from the last few weeks, since discovering the two of them together, it all gave way—to sorrow, to loss. To unimaginable regret. And with it came tears.
With my arms wrapped around myself, I hunched over and cried. Long, heart-wrenching sobs as the good memories overtook the bad, every single one of them flooding through me at lightning speed. I couldn’t stop. And I thought, finally, here are all those emotions I couldn’t seem to feel after I found them together. It took the loss of both of them to finally comprehend it. And I cried even harder for realizing that.
I don’t know how long I sat there crying, but Reed had stepped away and was discussing something with Officer Amari when, with a sniffle, I finally stopped and asked, “How, Detective? Why? What in God’s name happened to them?”
Reed excused himself and reclaimed the seat opposite me. “The Seattle P.D. is investigating. At first, it looked like—excuse the graphic nature here, but—it looked like kinky sex gone wrong.”
“At first?” I asked with a hiccup.
He nodded. “Yes, but there were signs it might be something else, something…more.”
“More? What does that mean?”
“Signs point to murder-suicide, but it feels a little…staged.”
I sighed in frustration, feeling like I was pulling information one word at a time. “Staged? Which means what exactly, Detective Reed? Please, just tell me.”
“Double murder, Mrs. Ross. We believe someone killed Ms. Wylde and your husband and made it look like a murder-suicide disguised in kinky sex, which leaves me wondering why. So…” he said as he pulled a slip of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket. “I’m here to search your home,” he explained, flashing the paper in front of me. “I have a warrant, but I’d prefer to have your formal permission, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I, um…I don’t know…I…I guess. I need to talk to my son first. I don’t want him to find out about this from someone else. He needs to hear it from me, before it makes the news.”
“In a minute, Mrs. Ross,” he said, then, from the same pocket, he pulled out a small plastic bag with a clear tube inside it. “First, I need a DNA swab from you.”
“What?”
“Your cooperation will be duly noted. Unless you wanna call that lawyer of yours, of course.”
I froze in place, staring with my mouth wide open.
Guess I was wrong. Nothing could have shocked me more.
I was in complete and utter shock. It was bad enough that both Declan and Aurelia were dead, but to be murdered… And now the cops made it seem like I was under a cloud of suspicion. I was beginning to regret I’d said anything to Detective Reed. In his mind, I could only imagine how I must appear, knowing I was aware of the affair between my husband and best friend. No doubt he thought that was motive enough for me. But surely there’d be evidence to implicate the person who’d actually committed the crime. I just had to bide my time until the investigation cleared me. Because it would. It had to. I was innocent.
Still, there’d be no more conversations with the police, at least not without a lawyer. I just needed to find the right one. The attorney Declan and I’d been using for years was a tax and finance guy. I wished I hadn’t been so permissive allowing Detective Reed and Officer Amari in my home before finding out their mission. I should’ve had a lawyer here from the beginning, but now it was too late. As soon as Reed served his warrant, a team of forensic investigators barged in with their equipment and began taking photos, sifting through my drawers and closets, and collecting samples.
“I don’t understand, Detective Reed. There was no crime committed here. What could they possibly be looking for?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Evidence connecting Mr. Ross with anyone who might benefit from harming him. We never know what that might be exactly, so, right now, it’s more about learning everything we can about the victim, your husband. That’s easiest done by looking into his business and home-life, as well as his digital footprint.”
“But your men are rifling through my son’s stuff, as well as mine. I don’t think—”
“Reed!” someone shouted from down the hall.
“Stay here,” Reed warned before turning toward two of his colleagues in the family room and kitchen. “Shaw, Garcia, follow me,” he ordered and walked away.
Both men stopped what they were doing, grabbed their toolboxes, and zipped down the hall toward my bedroom. I didn’t know what could possibly interest them in there, but I did know, warrant or not, I wasn’t about to stand by and do nothing. Instead, I padded down the hall after them and stopped outside the doorway to eavesdrop.
“How much blood?” Reed asked, his voice tinged with conjecture.
“Not much. Just seven drops,” another explained.
“Let’s see it,” Reed requested.
I heard footsteps approach my location right before the lights flipped off. I’d pressed myself tight up against the wall so no one would see me, but when the room went dark, I couldn’t help but poke my head around the doorjamb and peek inside. The four men were stooped over a spot on the floor near my bed, where one of them waved a lighted blue wand. Several spots on the carpet glowed a bright, bluish-white.
“That’s not all,” the man with the wand said. He stood, and the others followed suit, everyone turning toward the bed. The man grabbed a different type of light and swung it over the duvet. Several much larger smear-like spots lit up on the edge, just above the glowing drops on the floor.
“That’s not blood,” Reed stated.
The technician shook his head. “No, that’s probably semen. We’ll take a sample and confirm in the lab.”
“No.” Reed swung his arm over the bed. “I want the whole spread.”
The technician nodded.
With the pounding in my head and heart in overdrive, I pulled away and hustled back up the hall, my phone in hand, already scrolling through my contacts until I found the one I was looking for. While I wanted to call Ian first and tell him to come home immediately, I needed to get our attorney here first, before anything else was discussed. I pulled up Ira Breckmeier’s info and selected his cell number as I scampered up the north hall to Declan’s office, where I closed the door to a crack. It didn’t look like anyone had been in here yet. I didn’t want to touch anything and draw even more suspicion, but I needed privacy from prying eyes and ears. Although I was following Detective Reed’s advice, doing what he’d suggested, I didn’t want to be overheard, so I texted Ira rather than call.
Ira, this is Eden Ross. I have an emergency & need you at my house immediately! Can’t talk so please don’t call. Hurry!
I hit send and waited nervously for his response, not sure if Ira, at his advanced age, even used his cell to send and receive text messages, but I stared at the screen regardless, willing him to reply.
“Come on!” I laid the phone down on Declan’s rich mahogany desk and plopped into his leather executive chair.
That’s when Detective Reed walked in with a member of his team. He threw me a heated look, his mouth firm.
“Mrs. Ross, I thought I told you to stay put.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “This is my home, Detective. I’ll go wherever I wis
h. I’m not under arrest, correct?”
He hitched his hands along his hips. “Be that as it may, Mrs. Ross, I need you to remain in the other room and ask that you not touch anything until my team is finished.”
Snatching up my phone, I stashed it in my back pocket and walked out from behind Declan’s desk. I stood in front of Detective Reed with my arms crossed. “I was simply calling my attorney, as you suggested.” I dropped my arms and turned to leave.
But Reed caught me by the elbow. “Your cell phone, please.”
“I beg your pardon?” I bristled and tore my arm free.
“Your phone,” he ordered with is hand out.
“You can’t take my cell phone, Detective.”
“Actually, I can. It’s included in the warrant, as are all the personal electronic devices in the house—your computers, laptops, tablets, even security videos.” He wiggled his fingers impatiently.
“Not until my attorney arrives, and I have to call my son first,” I replied, but Reed was not deterred.
“Mrs. Ross, I’ll remind you, we have a legal warrant, and you gave us consent. Your lawyer would merely advise you to comply, so the sooner you hand over what we ask for, the quicker we can finish up and get out of your hair.”
I ground my teeth until my jaw popped, not that it did me any good. I was trapped, forced to surrender what could be perceived as very damaging texts between Sean and me. With those, and the fact my husband was screwing my so-called best friend—which I’d already stupidly admitted knowledge of—they could easily say I had motive. I needed to tread very carefully from this point forward and not antagonize the authorities or draw unnecessary attention. The texts might be compromising, but provided no real evidence, only circumstantial. And surely any real evidence would prove I was in no way involved.
After relinquishing everything as requested, I took a seat at the kitchen table, directly under the vigilant eye of Detective Reed, who stood watch over me as he pored over my phone. He shook his head and snickered more times than I could count, sometimes even peering over at me with judgment burning in his eyes. Merely an intimidation tactic, no doubt, but there was no need to torture me that way. He’d already copied every text. Yet Reed treated this like some sort of game.
Stirred Page 20
