Page 155 of Noel Secrets
Rushton glanced at his attorney, who gave him the go-ahead to respond. “I did ask for his help in negotiating with his ex-wife in the hopes of resolving this out of court. He agreed to act as a mediator.”
Satisfaction flowed through Clay. If Rushton knew Brent was dead, he would never have admitted their connection. Without Brent to verify it, they had no way to prove it.
Dean continued. “And the money you paid him?”
“A loan,” he said, dismissing it. “He said he needed it. He seemed desperate and he is family.”
“Family you’d never met before.”
He shrugged. “I was trying to mend fences.”
“Why not just go straight to Darby and speak with her?”
He waved off that query. “There’s been friction between us over this. I thought approaching her husband was a better idea.”
“Did you know they were divorced?”
“Not until I spoke with him, but he assured me he still had some influence over her.”
“I see. And how long have you been in Sheraton, Mr. Rushton?”
“I arrived in town two days ago. My hotel and credit cards will confirm that.”
Clay nodded. At least that was the truth.
“And you met with Brent Foster when?”
“Yesterday. I went by his car dealership and had a conversation with him.”
“So then you gave him this money?—”
“It was a loan,” Rushton insisted. “If he says differently, he’s lying.”
“So you deny trying to hire someone to kill Darby Foster?”
“Absolutely, he denies it,” the lawyer said before Rushton could answer. “And if you had any proof of his involvement, you would arrest him. Are you?”
Dean glanced up at the viewing-room screen. For a moment, Clay thought he might confer with him about other issues. But he shook his head. “No, not today. However, our investigation is continuing. We may need to ask further questions as evidence reveals itself.”
“My client is willing to help in any way he can,” the lawyer stated. He stood and handed Chief Dean a business card. “Feel free to contact me if you need anything further from my client.” Rushton pushed to his feet and they headed for the door.
Clay and Darby remained in the viewing room, out of sight, until the two men had left the station.
Dean approached Clay. “He doesn’t know Foster is dead.”
“I picked up on that.”
“I couldn’t hold him. We don’t have enough to support charges. I’m having the shooter placed back in the interrogation room. Now that my team has had time to collect more evidence against him, I’m hoping we can lean on him a little more, and he’ll give us Rushton.”
It seemed their only hope at the moment of tying Rushton to the hits. Unless Cooper had uncovered something. Clay checked his cell. No message from Cooper.
He rubbed his face. “I’m taking Darby back to the hotel. We’ll change rooms but not hotels. Call me if something breaks.”
“I will,” Dean stated.
Clay didn’t have to give the news to Darby that the interview hadn’t given them anything. She’d been there and heard Rushton’s side of the story.
They retrieved Hercules then Clay carried the kennel to his truck before they headed back to the hotel. Her room was still cordoned off, but Dean had given them permission to gather afew things without disturbing the scene. The body was now gone to the morgue, but blood still stained the carpet, something the hotel manager was none too pleased about.
