Nash
As the door on the left opens with a loud clang, a man in a dark suit enters the room.
Behind him, the deputy sheriff who booked me in and showed me to my cell retreats and closes the door behind him
“Uncle,” I say, only because I know he hates it.
The old Nash would have sat quietly on the too-thin, too-hard camp-style cell bed and used my silence as a shield against a man who hates me. After years of having Makhi and Vonn watch my back, silence is no longer a shield I hide behind.
Sometimes it’s fun to prod someone knowing they can’t do a thing in return to get back at you. Makhi taught me that.
His lips flatten. “Are you ready to admit your crimes?”
I arch my brow. “Mycrimes?”
“Murder,” he says louder than he needs to.
I don’t glance at the door behind him, but I have a feeling the deputy—or even the sheriff—is lingering close enough to listen, probably with a recorder to capture me admitting to murder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He steps up to the bars of my cell, his eyes cold and flinty. “The murder of your uncle. My brother.”
Getting up from the hard bed, I walk over to stand inches from him. “I never killed him, and I told you as much the last time you had the sheriff fling me in here.”
“I know you did,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
“Then you’ll have no trouble finding evidence to prove that I did what you’re accusing me of.”
His nostrils flare, and his eyes burn.
“You won’t get away with this,” he grinds out.
I walk back to my bed and sit down. “Let me know when my attorney arrives.”
He leaves with a loud slam of the door, and I release a quiet sigh of relief as I tilt my head back and rest it on the wall.
Ten minutes.
That’s the time it took for my uncle to lose everything and resent my dad for having what he believed should have been his.
They’re fraternal twins. Born on the same day, but not identical. If he’d been born ten minutes earlier, the house and the Gabriel fortune would have been his. Once my dad married and had me, I became heir, and he knew he was never getting the fortune or the house.
The Gabriel fortune has always passed down to the eldest son. Once the eldest has a son, then the fortune goes to him. It’s how it’s always been for generations.
At the will reading, he learned he wasn’t getting anything but a token amount. For most people, $100,000 is a life-changing amount. It wasn’t enough for him. He wants it all.
“Ready to talk?” a male voice calls out.
I lift my head, meeting the sheriff’s gaze as he stands in the open doorway on my left.
That door is loud enough for me to have heard it open, and I didn’t. It’s not a good idea to let my mind wander in enemy territory. I need to keep my mind focused, at least until my attorney arrives.
“About?” I ask.
His wide, amiable smile is false, though it’s the best attempt he’s made so far. My uncle must have promised him a bigger bonus if he gets me to incriminate myself.
“The crime. Fess up now and it’ll go easier for you.”
