Page 85 of Unchained

“May I?”

He gestured to the chair closest to the door. She smiled stiffly and sat on the edge of the cheap plastic, a notebook and pen in hand. “I’m comparing notes with your statement from last night. You mentioned you were held against your will for . . . how long?”

Memories of his journalism days slipped into his mind. This was what he hated about cops. Using anything they could to get you to trip up. In case they tried to tie him to Conrad’s death, it would be best to be vague about any details surrounding his imprisonment. “Dr. Leonetti had me for over a month, and before that I don’t remember.”

“Hmm. But your friend”—she shifted her gaze to Cam—“mentioned you were held for almost a year.”

“That’s correct. But the drug fucks with my memory. I only remember being knocked out the night my parents’ house went up in flames, and flashes of moments from before being taken to Leonetti.” The memory struck him again, making his aching head throb more.

“Ah, I see.” Detective Aldridge clicked her pen, and the constant sound tapped against his last nerve. “Who took you in the first place?”

He forced a mouthful of saliva down his throat. Pointing the finger at his enslaver, Conrad, would only give Brooks a motive for Conrad’s death. “Like I said, I don’t remember. I never saw the guy who hit me.” Playing with the truth the best he could, he kept his focus on the detective’s face.

“I’m sure that must be very difficult for you.” Her tone lacked sympathy. She flicked through the notebook. “A few more questions if you’re up for it?”

“Shoot.”

She settled the pad on her lap, her thumb stuck in the pages. Her gaze zeroed in on his face, searching every contour and waiting for a reaction. “Does the name Conrad Hornick mean anything to you?”

Brooks’s hand twitched on his lap, but he kept the muscles in his face passive. Pulling his lips into a frown, he gave one shake of his head. “Nope.”

She tapped her fingernail on her knee. “You’re sure about that? Even an old family friend or acquaintance . . .”

Ah, shit. She’d know Conrad was friends with his dad. Surely she would have done her background work before questioning him and would know he’d worked for Lionsgate too. “Look, with all due respect, I didn’t remember my own sister until the other day. I can’t even picture my parents.”

Her puckered face smoothed. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put any pressure on you. If something comes to mind, please give me a call.” She slid her card onto the table near the bed, but he didn’t reach for it. As soon as she left, it was going in the trash.

The detective rose, nodded, and turned on her stilettoed heel. Then she froze and spun back around. “One more thing.” She swung her gaze to Cam then back to his face. “How many people were with you last night?”

He lifted a shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Nash was with you, right? Camryn as well.” She gestured to Cam, who was imprinting his palm with her fingernails. Cam’s nervousness made him want to reassure her, but he had to hold his poker face until the detective left.

“That’s correct.”

“And Nash’s brothers?”

“One brother. Dare.”

Her eyes darkened. “The wounded guard and Linda, Camryn’s mother, noted another gentleman with your clan.” She flipped open the notepad to the spot her thumb had marked. It was clear she’d been waiting for this moment the entire time.

Conniving.

Or just smart as a whip.

He cocked his head to the side. “Sorry. I don’t remember there being anyone else. There were a few guards. Perhaps Linda is confused.”

Detective Aldridge chewed the corner of her lip. Her thick lashes concealed her irises as she lowered her focus to the floor. “You know, Brooks.” She stepped closer. Her leg brushed the side of the bed. “The Holmes family has a lot of skeletons in their closet. While I’m grateful for your sake that the brothers were there, we have a lot of legalities to go over. Several of Leonetti’s men were murdered, and while that was clearly in Linda’s, Camryn’s, and your defense, we’re running into dead ends.” The detective’s tone carried a hint of warning.

“Such as?” Brooks adjusted himself in the hospital bed. No doubt the detective found him easier to manipulate when he was lower than she was.

“No one is owning up to the killings—”

He bore his gaze into hers, challenging her to do her worst. “I killed Leonetti.”

“We know that. You included that in your statement, and considering you were under the influence of drugs against your will and likely would have been murdered, that’s clearly self-defense.”

“I probably killed the rest of the men and blacked out. That happens. Sorry.” He worked his jaw. He’d rather get nailed for every guard’s death than have Nash, Dare, and Cole under the spotlight. After all, they’d been there to aid him.

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