Page 27 of Evil Eyed
Warwick stayed close on my left, ready to whisk me away at a moment’s notice. I heard the deep rumble of Doran’s voice through the door and felt Aidan and Ivarr with him. Keane opened the front door and they all stepped inside.
The two cops were dressed in suits, not uniforms. I didn’t recognize either of them, and they both looked like normal men—humans—to me. One was slightly heavier and closer to forty. The other guy was younger than me. He immediately gave Vivi a wide smile of appreciation. “Mrs. Blake?”
My stomach rolled. I hadn’t been called that since I’d filed for divorce. “I’m Riann Blake, used to be, at least. I changed my name back to Newkirk after the divorce.”
The detective glanced my way, a sheepish look on his face, but Vivi flipped her long, red hair back over her shoulder. She tipped her head slightly and gave him the barest hint of a smile, and the poor guy was done for. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.
The older detective wasn’t so easy to distract. He held his hand out to me. “Sorry about that, Ms. Newkirk. I’m Detective Beasley, and this is my partner, Detective Short.”
Nobody moved but in my head, I heard guns cocking and swords drawn at the thought of me touching one of these men. Not that I needed any kind of warning. If Jonathan had managed to bespell me with a touch, then the last thing I wanted to do was shake this cop’s hand. Instead, I gave him a polite nod. “What do you want?”
His cheeks flushed and he pulled his hand back, covering up the gesture by reaching inside his suit coat to pull out a small notebook. “We just have a few questions for you. Speaking of your ex-husband, have you seen Mr. Blake recently?”
Uh… yeah. After he threatened to take me away from everything I loved, I’d sent him to die a miserable death in a frog swamp where he’d be slowly digested for millennia. Not that I could say that.
“Not recently,” I replied.
“You were married for…” The cop scanned his notebook. “Five years? And you worked for him.”
“I worked at Solobrex until our separation.” Such a polite way to say that I’d fled the house in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on my back.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Detective Beasley looked up from his notes, his eyes hard and piercing. “Solobrex was his company.”
I hadn’t known that Jonathan owned it at the time. I hadn’t known anything about our finances. Though I didn’t know if the cop would believe me or not. He kept staring at me, his eyebrows raised slightly with expectation, but I didn’t say anything else. Listening to Vivi rant about some of their clients, I knew the best thing I could do was keep my mouth shut as much as possible.
“Mr. Danielson at Solobrex reported your ex-husband as missing last Monday. Mr. Blake hasn’t been seen since.”
“Oh?”
“Do you know Mr. Danielson?”
The years I worked at Solobrex were thankfully gray and hazy. A miserable little cubicle. Soul-sucking monotony—though I couldn’t remember exactly what I’d done every day. “I don’t think so.”
“He wasn’t your former boss?”
I resisted the urge to look over at Vivi for help. I shrugged and gave the officer a hopefully sheepish smile. “I hated the place. I don’t really remember much. I guess I blocked it from my mind.”
“Hmm. That’s strange. If you hated the place so much, why did Mr. Blake leave Solobrex to you?”
My eyes flared. “What? That’s not right. He kept all of the property in our divorce. I didn’t want any of it, not even a percentage.”
Detective Beasley gave the younger cop a sharp poke with his elbow and the man finally dragged his gaze away from Vivi. “Show Ms. Newkirk the paperwork.”
He held out a manilla folder toward me, but Vivi quickly snatched it from him. She gave him a smile and started to flip through the papers, moving away from the older detective when he tried to take it back.
“It’s Jonathan’s will,” Vivi said. “He lists you as his sole beneficiary.”
I couldn’t help but shudder. “I don’t want his money. I don’t want any of it, especially that horrible place.”
“You didn’t know about any of this?” Detective Beasley asked. “And you have no idea where he might be or what has happened to him?”
“She already said she didn’t,” Aidan barked out.
“But you’re not surprised that Mr. Blake is missing, are you?”
“Get out.” Doran didn’t raise his voice but the deep timber rattled the cops. Detective Short even dropped a hand to his gun.
“I don’t want any of it,” I said again, firmly and loudly to try and diffuse the situation. “I don’t want anything from my ex-husband except my freedom. That’s what I told the judge, even when he said I was owed fifty percent of everything. I don’t want a dime from Jonathan Blake.”
