Wicked Series Complete Box Set: An Erotic Thriller

by Parker, M. S.

  “I didn't lose my job,” I said tersely. “I was suspended pending the conclusion of this investigation.”

  “Were you suspended because your employer believes that you might've had something to do with your husband's death?” Rheingard asked.

  “No.” I put my hands on my lap so the detectives couldn't see me digging my nails into my palms. I had no doubt they'd think it was guilt rather than annoyance.

  “Then what was it, Mrs. Lockwood?” Rheingard pressed. “If you don't have anything to hide...”

  “The principal is concerned the students might be confused since news of my arrest and the charges were made public.” I kept it simple.

  “Isn't it true, Mrs. Lockwood, that the real reason you were suspended is because Principal Sanders is afraid for the safety of his students? That he considers you dangerous.”

  “No,” I said, nearly shouting. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I mean...” Shit. “Yes, he's worried about their safety, but not because he thinks I'd hurt them. When Aime Vargas came after me, she came into my classroom. He just doesn't want to risk anything happening to the kids.” I lifted my chin. “And neither do I.”

  “So you agree that you should be kept away from your students.” Rheingard made it a statement.

  “I'm not contesting the suspension,” I said. “Doing that would cause more harm than good, and I care about my kids.”

  “You didn't answer my question,” Rheingard said.

  “No.” I met his gaze and held it. “I don't think I need to be kept away from my students. I don't believe I'm putting them in danger. But I do believe that everything that's going on could be confusing for them.”

  There was a moment of silence where Rheingard jotted something down in his notebook. I didn't see the point of writing something down when there was a recording of the exact same thing here, but I wasn't a cop. Maybe he was writing down something about my body language. Or maybe it was his lunch order. Who knew.

  “Are you aware, Mrs. Lockwood, that your in-laws believe you had something to do with your husband's death?” Detective Rheingard asked.

  No shit, Sherlock. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I'd been the one who'd told them that the Lockwoods were coming after me.

  I kept my answer brief. “Yes, I'm aware.”

  “They've brought some rather interesting things to our attention,” Detective Reed said.

  “I'm sure they did.” My voice was dry. I couldn't wait to hear this.

  Reed leaned across the table towards me and paused a long minute before asking, “How long ago did you and your lover start conspiring to murder your husband?”

  Chapter 11

  Jasper.

  They thought Jasper and I had planned to kill Allen.

  The very idea was ludicrous.

  Until I remembered that the file and the documents I'd brought to them incriminated Jasper in Allen's death. And since Jasper and I were living together...

  Shit.

  “Jasper and I didn't kill Allen.” I kept my voice as steady and calm as I could make it.

  “Right.” Reed leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Your husband just happened to die, and a few months later, his best friend moved into your house.”

  I set my jaw and lifted my chin. I wasn't going to rise to take the bait. Jasper and I had done nothing wrong.

  “Let's talk about that insurance money, Mrs. Lockwood,” Rheingard spoke. “According to our sources, you claim you didn't know about the insurance until you received a call from them, is that right?”

  I nodded. I wasn't even going to ask who their source was. It didn't matter.

  “Allen and I had taken out small policies on each other, just enough to cover funeral expenses no matter what our finances would be like at the time of our deaths. That was the only insurance I knew of until I got a call that Allen had taken out a million dollar insurance policy on himself.”

  “You had your attorney, Mr. Henley, hold the check for you?” Rheingard continued.

  “Yes. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the money, so I asked Mr. Henley to hold it for me until I did.”

  “But you've since decided that you wanted the money,” Reed put in. “Or rather, you wanted to give it to your lover.”

  My mouth tightened and my nails dug so deeply into my palms that I knew I was going to have marks. “I decided that I was going to give the money to a charity or something like that. I wanted my former in-laws to see that I didn't care about the money.”

  “But you didn't give the money to a charity. You gave it to the man you were sleeping with.”

  I had a feeling Reed would've used a much less genteel term if the recorder hadn't been sitting in front of me.

  “Allen left Jasper a million dollars from his trust to start a clinic, something that Allen and I both knew Jasper wanted. With Allen's family contesting the will regarding the distribution of the trust, I didn't know how long that money would be tied up. So, yes, I gave Jasper the insurance money so he could start his clinic.”

  Rheingard made another one of those notes on his notepad. “Your attorney will confirm the dispensation of the insurance policy?”

  “Yes. I'll make sure he knows to give you anything you need.” I glanced at Reed and saw the skeptical look the detective was giving me. “He can also let you know what's going on with the Lockwoods in regards to Allen's estate. If they haven't already told you everything.”

  “Speaking of your in-laws,” Rheingard said.

  I swallowed a sigh. I didn't want to talk about Allen's family, but I wasn't going to protest. I'd answer whatever questions they wanted to ask. I wouldn't give them any reason to think I was holding back.

  “We understand that you spoke with your in-laws regarding a DNA sample for a paternity test.” Rheingard looked up from his notes.

  “I did.” I wasn't entirely sure what this had to do with their accusations, but I was willing to go along with it.

  As long as they didn't ask where I'd eventually gotten the sample. That wouldn't end well for either Jasper or myself. I was starting to think maybe I should have asked Mr. Henley to come with me.

  “Why didn't you have anything in your house with your husband's DNA?” Reed asked. “Toothbrush. Hair brushes.” He paused and smirked suggestively. “Sheets.”

  I ignored the not-so-subtle innuendo. “By the time the paternity suit came around, I'd already cleaned out anything of Allen's that would've had his DNA.”

  “Right,” Reed said. “Because you had to make room for your new lover.”

  I got the impression he liked using that word. My voice was tight. “Because I'm trying to move on with my life. Like my husband would have wanted.”

  Reed sneered. “I'm sure he would've been ecstatic about you...living with his friend.”

  I had to bite my tongue from snapping at him. Defending my relationship with Jasper wasn't what was needed at the moment.

  “You'd gotten rid of all of Allen's things?” Rheingard asked.

  “No,” I clarified. “I'd thrown away things like his toothbrush and hairbrush. His razor. Things that couldn't be donated or that I wasn't going to keep. So, no, I haven't thrown away everything that belonged to my husband. I just didn't have anything I could use for the test.”

  Rheingard raised an eyebrow. “And what does Dr. Whitehall think about the fact that you still have some of your husband's things at the house?”

  “Allen was Jasper's best friend.” I met his eyes and worked to keep my voice steady. “He misses my late husband as much as I do. There's no competition between them.”

  Reed didn't even try to hide his skepticism. “Seems to me you'd have to be a pretty cold-hearted bit–,” he cleared his throat, “person to sleep with your husband's best friend.”

  “Did you know Allen? Either of you?” I asked suddenly. “Do you know Jasper? I mean, beyond a professional capacity or rumors?”

  The men exchanged glances befo
re Rheingard answered, “No. We never met Mr. Lockwood, and our encounters with Dr. Whitehall have been brief.”

  “Then I don't really think either of you are qualified to tell me what my late husband or my current lover,” I looked at Reed when I used the word, “would think about me or this situation.” I gave them both a humorless smile. “So why don't we stick to the relevant questions? That's what I'm here to answer, after all.”

  A moment of silence followed my little speech, and then Detective Reed heaved out a sigh and pushed his chair back.

  “I need coffee.”

  He disappeared through the door, leaving me with Detective Rheingard.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  I shook my head. “I just want to get this over with, Detective.”

  He nodded. “All right. Why don't you tell me again about what happened that day?” He gestured towards the recorder. “We'll get it on tape this time.”

  I doubted that had anything to do with why he was asking me to repeat the same things I'd already told him a dozen times in a dozen ways. But I did it one more time. I barely even had to think about what I was saying as I went through it all again.

  By the time I finished, Detective Reed had returned with his coffee. I didn't even pause when he slumped down in his chair and glared at me, sipping at his drink.

  When I finished, Rheingard did his little note-taking thing, and then looked over at Detective Reed.

  I could almost hear them saying tag, you're it.

  “When did you choke your husband?” Reed asked.

  I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “When did I what?”

  “Choke him,” Reed repeated. He straightened and leaned forward. “Or did you hit him? The medical examiner couldn't get a clear picture of what happened before you managed to get your husband's body removed.”

  “What are you talking about?” I wasn't even annoyed with the question because I had no clue what he was talking about. “Allen died because his parachute didn't open.”

  “Right,” Reed agreed. His eyes were gleaming. “But the medical examiner made a note of a suspicious-looking bruise on Allen's neck.”

  “How could they...I mean, he was...” The words stuck in my throat. I might've been moving on and putting my life together again, but that didn't make it any easier to think about what happened that day. Especially not about how Allen had died.

  “Detective.” Rheingard's voice was sharp. He looked over at his partner and then turned back to me. “The medical examiner didn't report a bruise.”

  I glared at Detective Reed. It figured the asshole was lying to me again to try to get me to say I'd done something I hadn't done. He'd been trying to get me worked up over the brutality of Allen's death so I'd say something incriminating. I'd known he was a heartless bastard, but that was beyond cold.

  Rheingard continued, “We do, however, have a statement from one of the men who worked at the airfield that says Mr. Lockwood had a strange-looking bruise on his neck.”

  I gave him a confused look. “I don't understand.”

  “Is it possible that something may have happened before you got on the plane? Something that may have caused Mr. Lockwood to pass out?”

  I was thoroughly confused now. Were both detectives lying to me about the bruise? Were they trying to trick me into saying that Allen and I'd had some sort of fight before he died? Like that would've given some sort of reason to kill him? Was Rheingard giving me a different sort of lie after calling Reed out because what he did was supposed to make me think he was telling the truth?

  “You and Mr. Lockwood didn't have any sort of altercation? An argument that maybe got a little out of hand?” Rheingard pressed.

  “No!” I snapped. “If you must know, Allen and I had spent the night before and the morning of the accident having sex. We weren't fighting. We were fucking.”

  Rheingard at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed by my blunt wording, but Reed just sat there with that stupid smirk on his face.

  And then it hit me and my face flushed.

  Shit.

  I knew what he was talking about.

  “The, um, bruise,” I started. “Was it here?” I pointed to a place on my own neck.

  “Yes.” Rheingard nodded.

  “Yeah, um...” My ears were burning. “I did do that.”

  “So you're admitting that you put a bruise on your husband's throat before you got into the airplane?” Rheingard glanced at his partner. “If it somehow caused Mr. Lockwood to pass out and forget to open his parachute, it wasn't intentional...”

  “It wasn't a bruise,” I interrupted. “It was a hickey.”

  If I'd known that such a statement would effectively shut them both up for nearly a full minute, I might've said it sooner.

  Then Detective Reed opened his mouth and I knew whatever he was going to say would be rude.

  “Yes, Detective Reed,” I spoke before he could. “I gave my husband a hickey when we were making love on our anniversary. He gave me one too. I doubt either of them caused my husband's parachute to not open, but I do know my sex life isn't any of your business.”

  Another moment of uncomfortable silence followed before Detective Rheingard spoke, “The thing is, your sex life is our business. Especially when it comes to this investigation.”

  “What the hell does my sex life have to do with this, other than the fact that it explains the mark on Allen's neck?”

  Detective Reed put his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together. “You didn't answer our original question, Mrs. Lockwood. How long had you and Dr. Whitehall been having an affair before the two of you decided to kill your husband?”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “You know what? I've had enough of this. I came in to answer legitimate questions, but all you keep doing is going over the same stuff I've already answered, and being rude to me.” I stood up. “I'm done here. If you want to speak to me again, call my lawyer. He'll come in with me because I'm tired of this. Good day, detectives.”

  Chapter 12

  I called Mr. Henley as soon as I came out of the police station. I knew the detectives were furious, and Henley wasn't going to like it either, so I figured it was better that he hear it from me.

  I explained things to him as quickly as I could, not wanting to give him a chance to comment until I was done. When I did finally fall silent, his reaction was exactly what I expected.

  “Shae.” He gave a heavy sigh. “That was probably not the best thing you could've done.”

  “I know,” I admitted. “But I just couldn't take any more of it. All they have is a bunch of suspicions without any proof and they're wasting all their time on questioning me when they should be accepting that Allen did it to himself. There's proof of that right in the letter I gave them.”

  “You do know if they rule it a suicide, the insurance company is going to want their money back,” Henley said. “In fact, I'm surprised they released it at all. They usually wait for a ruling, but what's done is done. Even if someone jumped the gun in sending you the check, you won't be allowed to keep it if the detectives officially rule it suicide.”

  “I know,” I said. “And I don't care. I just want this to be done so that I can try to have a normal life again.”

  “Well, I'll do whatever I can to make that possible.” There was a pause, and then he spoke again, “Are you heading into work now?”

  Right. He didn't know.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Can you come by my office? There are a couple new developments I'd like to discuss.”

  That was probably a good thing since I had to explain my suspension. I just hoped what he had to say made up for my plethora of bad news.

  By the time I was on my way home, I was ready to chalk up the day as a complete loss.

  The events at the police station had been awful, making me re-live seeing Allen die, hearing the accusations about Jasper and myself. They made what Jasper and I had into somethin
g sordid, the sort of thing the people of St. Helena had been gossiping about. That hurt me almost as much as the rest.

  My meeting with Mr. Henley hadn't been much better, and the information he'd given me continued to circle in my mind. It was heading towards late afternoon by the time I pulled into the driveway and I already felt like my brain was going to explode.

  I didn't even register that Jasper's car was in the driveway until I opened the door and smelled something wonderful. He was home.

  “Jas?” I called his name as I stepped inside.

  “Hey, babe.” He stepped out of the kitchen, a smile lighting up his face when he saw me.

  “Why aren't you at work?” I asked as he came towards me.

  “Left early,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. He bent his head and gave me a brief, but intense kiss. “I thought you might have a rough day, and since I wasn't here last night when you needed me because I was at work, I figured work could take the back seat today.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say that it hadn't been work that needed him last night, but rather Georgia. I didn't though. It would've sounded petty because it would've been petty. I didn't like the woman or how she behaved with Jasper, but he was mine, so she wasn't even close to the top of my problems list.

  “I'm glad you're here.” I pressed my face against his chest, closing my eyes as I breathed in his scent. “Saying it was a rough day is an understatement.”

  “What happened, love?” He ran his hand over my hair.

  I shook my head. “What smells so good?” I smiled. “Besides you.”

  He chuckled, the rumble a gentle sound in my ear. “I'm making dinner. Roasted chicken with cooked carrots. Fresh Asiago bread from Augustine's Bakery and a blueberry pie ready to go in the oven when the chicken comes out.”

  I groaned, mouth watering at the thought of all that wonderful food. “You are amazing.”

  “I like to think so.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and used his other hand to take my purse. “We still have some time before the chicken's done. Why don't you go sit on the couch, and I'll bring you something to drink. You want beer or wine?”