Page 104 of Angels & Whiskey
We followedthe detectives to the police station. It was a request on their part, but I didn’t want to add running from the law on my list of shit I was stressing about. When we arrived, I went with Detective King and Gabe went with Detective Evans to small offices.
I’d always pictured people being interrogated in a large room with a steel or wood table in the center, a two-way mirror that watched the interview from and being asked if I wanted something to drink so they can run my prints. I’d seen it enough on TV to think that was how the system worked. In reality, I was led to a tiny room with a small rectangle wood table that barely fit in the room. There were only two chairs next to it and a video camera hung in the corner that pointed down on the table.
“Can I get you a bottle of water?” Detective King asked.
I looked up into his grey eyes as I sat nervously in the uncomfortable metal chair placed in the corner at the end of the table. “I’m good for now. Thank you.”
“All right.” He nodded and shrugged off his black suit jacket, hung it on the back of the chair and then sat down diagonal from me. “Let’s get started. I have a few questions.”
“Okay,” I replied, nervously fidgeting with my hands in my lap.
“Where were you last night?”
“With Gabe at his house.”
“The entire night?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“And what time did you arrive at his house?”
I thought for a few moments. “I’m not exactly sure. Sometime in the afternoon.”
“And where were you in the morning?”
“You want every detail of where I was yesterday?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
I tilted me head a little as if to question what he was getting at. “I woke up at Gabe’s house, we went to visit my parents and then I went to my house.”
“What kind of relationship do you and Mr. Hastings have?”
I blinked at him. “Why does it matter? What is this all about?”
“Mrs. Jones, just answer the questions.”
“We’re friends.”
He leaned back in his chair, setting his hands in his lap. “You’re not romantically involved?”
“What does it matter?” I questioned with irritation in my voice.
“It just helps with our investigation.”
“Investigation with what?” I was trying to stay calm. I didn’t want to upset the detective, but I also hated not knowing what I was doing there.
“I’ll get to that after you answer my questions.”
“Yes, Gabe—I mean, Mr. Hastings and I are romantically involved.”
“And you’re married?”
I sucked in a breath. “Yes. Technically I’m married, but the last time I checked it wasn’t illegal to have an affair.” The words slipped from my mouth before I could process what I was saying. Maybe Rich had hired these detectives to find out how long Gabe and I were seeing each other. I didn’t know what good that would do, but it was the only thing I could think of.
“It’s not. When was the last time you saw your husband?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back in my chair to match Detective King. Of course, this was about Rich. “Yesterday afternoon.”
