“What’s happened?”
I’ve seen enough law enforcement faces to recognize when they’re about to deliver life-changing news. I know it’s their job. But fuck, in the moment all you want to do is hit something. Hard.
“We have some news that might be upsetting,” the detective says with a morbid finality. “A woman has been found deceased in one of your residences.”
“Tate,” I choke under my breath, unable to think of anything other than her face before I walked away from her yesterday.
At the way she looked at me…. Sodisappointed.
“Jesus.” I drag a hand over my jaw, my throat unbearably tight like it’s got a chain being pulled tight around it. “I don’t… Wait. You said residence?”
“A suite registered to you at The Lanceford Hotel,” he confirms. “The staff advised that you gave them permission to allow a guest to stay there last night?”
“Yes, I did.”
The air that’s expelled from my lungs makes my head light and I almost laugh.
Natasha.
But the relief that it’s not Tate they’re talking about is destroyed in an instant as the rest of his words sink in.
“Natasha’s dead?”
“We’d like you to formally identify her. Her driver’s license lists her as a resident of Miami,” the detective says. “A family member will be required to complete the identification if you’re unable?—”
“I’ll do it.”
I blow out a breath, standing with my hands on my hips. My father was the one who was going to identify my mother and brother. But they were too badly burned. As horrific as it was hearing that, it was a small mercy to me thatmy father didn’t have to see them like that. It was done using dental records instead. I’d never wish to put a family member through seeing their loved one in that way.
“The only family Natasha’s ever mentioned is an uncle. I don’t think he’s in good health. I’ll do it.”
“Very well.” The detective nods. “We’ll get that arranged, Mr. Beaufort.”
“How did she…? What happened?”
“It appears to be an accidental overdose. The autopsy will confirm it. But there were narcotics and methods to administer them found by the body.”
I step back, slumping onto one of the kitchen stools.
“Drugs?” I whisper, pushing my finger and thumb into my stinging eye sockets.
Fucking drugs.
I knew she was probably using, and it wasn’t just the alcohol. But I did nothing. I gave her two million dollars to go out and score whatever she wanted.
I handed her the means to acquire whatever she wanted on a golden fucking platter.
I might as well have killed her myself.
Small footsteps pad toward me, making my eyes snap open.
“Molly?” I breathe, standing from my chair and reaching down to pull her into my arms as she rushes over to me in her pajamas, eyeing the cops with an unsure expression.
“It’s okay, Sweetheart. The police came to talk to Daddy about something.”
Molly’s eyes drop to the gun in the officer’s holster and my jaw tightens at the parting of her lips as she stares at it in wonder. She’s never seen Denver’s in all of the times he’s been here. He’s either kept it discreetly hidden, or it’s been placed inside my safe.
My daughter hasn’t turned three yet, and I’m alreadyfailing at protecting her innocence. Failing to keep the ugly side of the world away from her. The side that results in uniformed officers showing up at your home before breakfast.
