Page 23 of Unhallowed Murder
She relaxed in Nathan’s arms and remembered Joseph’s question about feeling safe while someone watched over her. Why hadn’t she thought of the times the Amakhosi had held her since that awful night she’d watched her mother’s body be torn apart.
Had some part of her brain been protecting her psyche from the vampire? Or did she merely view Nathan and Josef differently? Protective monarch versus potential lover? Could she ever have a true lover? She wasn’t sure, but she was beginning tothink she had to try.
“Sleep, Ronnie.”
Nathan’s voice was kind, but it was an order, and her mind obeyed.
Chapter Thirteen
Ronnie walked into her office in heels and a pantsuit, with her hair in a bun. “Is Flores’ girlfriend ready for me?”
“She’s all yours,” Myers said. “Been stewing in the box about twenty minutes.”
“Any problems bringing her in?”
“No. She’s pissed, but you said not to cuff her unless we had to for safety reasons, so we didn’t.”
“You have a printout of her boyfriend’s confession for me?”
Corey looked up from his monitor. “On your desk, along with everything else you asked for, plus the initial report on her SUV. She was killed in the back. Bastard put the seat down, stretched her out.”
So she had part of the crime scene, they just didn’t know where it’d been parked during themurder. She’d have to look through the report later — she didn’t want the girlfriend waiting too much longer. Corey had put the confession printout into a plastic protector, and then sealed the protector inside a heavy-duty resealable zippered storage bag. Through the layers of plastic, it looked like the original.
She walked into the room with a large purse, kept on hand specifically as a prop. Ronnie found it made her entrance feel more casual, like a girlfriend coming into the restaurant and taking her seat.
“Mariah? I’m sorry we had to bring you in like this, but I need your help. I’m Veronica Woods, and I need to ask you some questions about your boyfriend. Do you call him Jorge or Calacas?” Ronnie had verified with Ramirez that Flores’ first name was pronouncedhor-hey, and notGeorge.
“He’s my Jorge — myeverything— and I ain’t talkin’ to no smurfs.”
“So, the two of you have a monogamous relationship? Or is it okay for you to get some strange on the side?”
“Strange? Damn, how old are you?”
Ronnie laughed. “But it’s okay, right? You can fuck who you want, when you want?”
“No, and I’d stick a bitch if I found out she fucked my Jorge.”
Ah. Progress, except this likely meant she hadn’t killed Wendy. It’s possible Mariah just wasn’t very bright, but most people don’t go around making those kinds of statements if they’ve recently shotsomeone in the head.
Ronnie didn’t scent a lie, but Mariah’s emotions were all over the place, so she needed to keep going. Not that this next piece of news would calm her down.
“I believe you, which is why I have to wonder… well, I’ll just let you read it for yourself. I assume you recognize Jorge’s handwriting? Or is it all texts these days, and no writing?”
Mariah took five minutes to read through it, and Ronnie was certain she read the first half and then started over again. At Ronnie’s prodding, the asshole had detailed how he’d raped Wendy vaginally and anally, and had used a condom to keep from leaving DNA evidence. He’d also worn gloves so there’d be no prints, a hat to keep his hair from shedding, and he’d shaved his pubes beforehand, which went to show premeditation.
“He told me he shaved for me, as a surprise, so I wouldn’t get hair in my teeth!”
“Did you kill Wendy Abrams?”
“She’s dead? The bitch is dead!? That’s what this is about?!”
All Ronnie could scent was Mariah’s hurt and anger, and it wasn’t possible to be certain of whether she was telling the truth or not. However, it was clear she hadn’t known her boyfriend had raped Wendy, which meant she probably hadn’t killed her.
“Yes, someone killed her. We thought Jorge did, but now we aren’t sure. He says she was alive when he was finished with her. We know she was killed the same night, likely sometime before daylight.”
Her eyes narrowed. “If I could help you put him away, I would.”
“I believe you. Are you okay? Do you need me to call someone for you?”
