“What would have been the point? If he’d found out that I’d ratted on him to the landlord, it would have made the situation worse.” My increasing frustration had the benefit of raising my body temperature to a more comfortable level. “Do you really think I might have killed Freddie over that incident?”
He remained as cool and impassive as ever. “Did you?”
“No!”
“It must have made you angry,” Callahan said. “A lowlife like him threatening to toss you and your niece out on the street.”
I rested my forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Detective, if I killed every male who’s ever sexually harassed me in any way, I’d have a whole trail of bodies behind me, starting with Troy Nestor in sixth grade.”
The detective seemed unmoved by that statement.
But of course he was unmoved. He was a man, after all, and therefore had no clue what it was like to be a girl or woman in this world.
“Ms. Gray, can you please tell me where you were at the time of Freddie Hanover’s death?”
The question made my stomach churn in a worrisome way.
“Out buying groceries.”
“Where?”
I rattled off the name and location of the store. Surely, they’d have surveillance footage that would back up my claim. Although I’d stopped at the park for a while to enjoy the sunshine. Callahan might think there was plenty of time unaccounted for before I arrived at the grocery store.
“Do I need a lawyer?” I asked with an edge to my voice.
“That’s entirely up to you.”
“Am I free to leave?”
The detective leaned back in his chair and set his pen next to his notebook. “Any time you like.”
I stood up so abruptly that my chair almost toppled over backward. “You know, if you want innocent citizens to feel comfortable enough to come forward with potentially relevant information, treating them like criminals isn’t a great strategy.”
With those parting words, I stormed out of the interview room and down the hallway to the right.
I stopped short after a few paces. I didn’t know if I was going the right way. Had I turned right or left to get into the interview room?
I couldn’t bear the thought of turning back and having Detective Callahan see me pass by him, so I continued onward. Maybe it should have come as a relief when I realized I’d gone the correct way, but all I felt was queasiness in my stomach and a lightheaded sensation that had me worried I might faint.
Chapter
Thirty
I’d never been so happy to come home to the Deco Mirage. For a while there, I thought I’d be spending the night—or maybe the rest of my life—behind bars, wearing an orange jumpsuit. So to be in my own apartment, even if it did have crumbling plaster and cracks in the walls, was as good as staying at the Ritz-Carlton.
Yet despite my relief at being home and away from Callahan’s piercing gaze, I wasn’t free of worries. The detective hadn’t arrested me, but I had no doubt that I was on his suspect list. I wished I could, in retaliation, put his name onmysuspect list, but of course that was ridiculous. I had absolutely no foundation for suspecting him of killing Freddie. Just of barking up the wrong tree.
At least I didn’t have to put Wyatt’s name on Theo’s murder board. Just my own instead. I probably should have set up the board and decided what to do next investigation-wise now that I seemed to be in hot water right along with Mr. Nagy.
Mr. Nagy!
My brain finally made a connection that it might have identified earlier if I weren’t so frazzled and distracted by all the things going on in my life.
The cops had arrested my neighbor, so why would they look at me as a suspect?
I dashed out into the hall, knocking on the door to the next apartment. Mrs. Nagy answered, her face breaking into a smile when she saw me.
“Emersyn, dear, come in.” She ushered me into the apartment.
