Now
“Some coffee would be nice. For our guests?” I give Taylor a stern look, then wait for her to take the hint.
Annoyingly, she doesn’t move, but I still feel like I should give her a pass: that earsplitting scream she let out diverted the attention from my reaction. Or lack thereof. Still, we don’t want to be rude or give a bad first impression.
“Taylor, please?”
“We really don’t mean to be a bother,” the woman says. She introduced herself as Detective Jackson and she’s all smiles now, but I bet that won’t last long. “Maybe we could sit down?”
“Of course,” I say, leading them toward the couch, my mind spinning.
I expected this. I prepared myself for it. Everything will be fine.
As soon as the four of us are seated, I launch into it. “I was just with him. I can’t imagine… That’s… I can’t even think of the words. Oh god, tell me. What happened?”
Detective Jackson and her colleague, Detective Collins, look at each other with a mix of pain and confusion. Am I not doing this right? Fuck. There should be a how-to guide for the perfectly distressed widow.
Detective Collins clears his throat. “The cleaning staff at the hotel found him. The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign was on, but they have a policy of checking in with guests if they haven’t cleaned the room in more than forty-eight hours. Fancy hotel, and all that.”
“Hmm,” I say, nodding repeatedly as I press my lips together.
“But of course you’d know that. You were there,” Detective Jackson says.
I force a smile. “Can you tell me what happened? Olivier was fine when I left Paris. We had a really good, peaceful conversation, and we haven’t spoken since. What… How did he—”
I shouldn’t finish that sentence. A distraught wife would react like that. She would be confused. Hurt. Freaking out.
“We’re still waiting for more information, but the cause of death was most likely an overdose of sleeping pills,” Detective Jackson says.
Taylor gasps before I can.
“Your husband also seems to have suffered a concussion on his head,” Detective Jackson adds. “So that’s giving the detectives pause.”
“Aren’tyouthe detectives?”
Detective Jackson sighs. “TheFrenchdetectives. Since it happened over there, they’re in charge of finding out exactly what went down. Our job is to assist them in any way we can.”
“That’s so kind of you.”
I glance at Taylor, who’s nodding almost imperceptibly, her fingers twisted together on her lap.
“Really the reason we’re involved is you. A French man dies in France; it’s their case. But a French man who lives in the States with his American wife, who was with him hours before he died… That’s where we come in. Do you know anything about that concussion, Ms. Quinn?”
“Please call me Cassie. Ms. Quinn was my mother. And I’m Ms. Laurent, actually.” I pause, but she’s clearly waiting for me to continue. “Yes, Olivier hit his head. A day or two before I left, maybe? I can’t remember. Between the time difference and the jet lag, I’m not sure. So, um, he gotup in the middle of the night and tripped on the ironing board. We’d left it out from the night before. Olivier fell and the iron landed on his head. I slept right through it; I don’t really remember the details.”
Before I can take in the detectives’ reactions, Taylor turns to me with eyes wide open, her mouth slightly agape. What’s her problem?
“None of that woke you up?” It’s Detective Jackson. Her smile is kind, but that doesn’t mean anything.
Shit, I’m not thinking clearly enough. “I was still jet-lagged. Olivier bought these sleeping pills for the trip, and I guess they worked a little too well.”
“Didn’tyoubuy the sleeping pills?” Taylor says.
“What does it matter?” I say, too sharply.
“It does matter,” Detective Jackson cuts in, with a half smile. “Soyoupurchased the sleeping pills?”
I look down, stopping myself from shooting daggers at Taylor. I wish we’d get off this topic already. I didn’t exactly get these pills legally, and I’m in enough trouble as it is, but it looks like I have to answer so I face the detectives again. “Olivier, myhusband, suggested the sleeping pills. He came with me to get them. I paid for them so I guess,technically, I bought them. I never thought Olivier would…” I pause, like I’m about to cry, my chin quivering.
