Page 88 of Surrender
Bishop scoffed at the cheery introduction. “And how can we help you, Detective?”
“Well, we’re investigating the murder of a young woman,” he said, smacking his gum.
My stomach sank.
I was doing the math in my head.
How long had Darcy been gone?
An hour or so, maybe.
Surely, there wouldn’t—
“Roxanna Newcombe,” he announced, making me breathe a little easier, but that relief was short-lived.
Bishop shook his head. “We don’t—”
“She worked at a business your club handles security for, if I’m not mistaken.”
Maison Vesey.
Roxanna.
My heart stopped, I swear it did, because her name hit me like a bullet.
“No. Hell fucking no,” I spat, shaking my head. “Are you talking about Roxie?”
The detective raised his brows. “Yeah, you know her?”
It was a simple question, but it was like live bait on the end of a rod. He wanted something. An admission. A flicker of guilt. A wrong move.
“Of course I knew her,” I said, rolling my shoulders back and trying to steady myself again. “Like you said, we did security for the place.”
The detective didn’t answer right away. He just stared at me, his eyebrows raised as if he was trying to encourage me to keep talking. He wanted me to dig my own grave before he threw me in it.
Thankfully, I knew better.
“You are Nathaniel Brooks, right?” I kept my mouth shut tight as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Mr. Brooks, you are under arrest for the murder of Roxanna Newcombe—”
“What!” Bishop barked, his voice like a gunshot.
I made eye contact with him, giving him a slight shake of my head and ensuring we were on the same page.
Let it play out.
Don’t make a fuss.
Don’t give them a reason.
He wouldn’t be happy about it, and neither were any of the boys who came rushing out of the clubhouse to help, but if this was the way things needed to go, then this was how they needed to go.
It wasn’t the time to fight.
It was the time to stay smart.
“Anything you say or do can and will be used against you…”
Everything moved slowly around me, the words echoing in my head as the detective read me my rights, raising his voice soit could be heard over the protests around me.
