Jayce Paxton
October – Prior to the Events in King’s Undercover Fed
Fear was like a knife to the chest, twisting into my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I’d lived with this maddening panic for the last three days while staring at my phone, waiting for news. I called Alex’s number constantly, hitting his name on my phone’s screen and hoping he’d answer.
He never did.
I’d guessed it was coming, but when I saw the detectives walk into the bullpen, backs straight and determination on their faces, I knew what they were going to say. I’d been on the other side of this situation during work hours, telling a family that their loved one was dead.
Their words barely penetrated through the fog in my mind.
Deceased.
Drowned.
Lake Ontario.
“That’s not possible.” My hands shook where I had them resting on my work desk. I sat in my uniform, the two detectives towering over me. I didn’t know them well. They were from the Downtown Station. “He was a marine combat diver.Drowning’s not possible.”
Someone touched my shoulder, and I grabbed their hand for the extra support.
One of the detectives—I couldn’t remember his name, but he was a short fellow with balding gray hair and a nose most likely hooked by a punch—clasped his hands in front of him and nodded gravely. “We are aware of his former career, Mr. Paxton, which is why we’d like to ask you to escort us to an interview room.”
I glanced up frowning, heart twisted in a way that made it hard to breathe. “What?”
The detective cleared his throat and winced, and I knew what that look meant.Iwas a suspect in my husband’s death. It made sense, I supposed. The spouse was always, and I meanalwayslooked at, but being thought of as a killer still hurt. No, it didn’thurt, it made me furious. Grinding my teeth together, I stood, aware of the eyes of my friends and coworkers on me.
When Slater had given me the business card to the law firm hisperson—Madden Polunin—works for, I’d smiled thankfully, never really thinking that I’d need it, but now the small piece of cardboard sat heavy in the pocket of my pants. Somewhere in the back of my mind, as the hours ticked by without Alex walking through the front door of our home, I’d realized that I would need the help eventually.
Most murders were perpetrated by people the victim knew. Of course I was always going to be a suspect, especially with my background as a marine, and my mental health record—PTSD. Having a mental illness didn’t mean I was a killer, but to guys like this detective staring down his nose at me, it was a clue to solving a crime.
“If you’re going to interrogate me, I reserve the right to call a lawyer.”
He huffed as though my move was a suspicious one. As far as I was concerned, getting a man in on my side was smart, and even the innocent people should call backup. Nodding, he grunted out, “I’ll meet you in interview room one,” before he and his partner, a young redhead I thought was named Pitts, headed in the direction of the interview rooms.
I tugged out the card, flipping it over between my fingers. The gold gleam of the text on it reflected under the lights of the bullpen.Demchenko, Weston, and Polunin.Lawyers—I’d never needed one of those before and I wasn’t quite sure how to handle them. Bloody hell, I didn’t know if I could afford one.
I glanced around the room crowded with desks, noticing the straying gazes of my coworkers on me, and I could see it in their eyes, the blatant curiosity.Did this man kill his husband?
The card shook. No, not the card. My fingers wouldn’t hold steady. I reached over to grab the handset of the landline phone sitting on my desk and dialed the number. A jovial voice answered, female, and I didn’t know what to say.
“Hi, um, my name is Jayce Paxton. I’m about to be interviewed by the police. I’d like to hire a lawyer, please.”
“Of course, sir. Are you aware of the firm’s starting rates, Mr. Paxton?” Her voice was too bubbly, and I wanted to snap at her, tell her my husband wasdead, but I clamped my lips together hard. This wasn’t her fault. She was only doing her job.
“Um, can I talk to Madden Polunin? He’s a friend.” I wasn’t quite sure if I could call him a friend, but I thought that might be the quickest way to get to the man himself.
She hummed. “Please hold for a moment, sir.”
A bouncy waiting chime started, and my entire hand shook. I gripped the receiver tightly and clenched my eyes closed as Alex’s happy smile flashed across my mind. What was he doing in the damned lake? It wasn’t that warm out at this time of the year, so he had to be in a heavy wetsuit. He loved swimming, but he never went without me.Never.
We’d been arguing more than usual lately, mostly because I’d been working more than I had in Miami, but we needed the overtime. Alex had been without work for over six months after he was put off as a security guard at a warehouse facility. Part of it was down to him just not trying to find anything, so we’d rowed a lot. We were struggling, so I did what I had to do. Was it my fault that he went swimming and drowned?
I shook my head. No.No, I refused to believe it.
“Jayce?” Madden’s sharp voice broke me from my thoughts, and I blinked around the room. I’d forgotten where I was for a moment and it took a few seconds for my mind to catch up. “Becky says you’ve been arrested?”
“Uh, no, not arrested. I’m being interviewed. They bloody think I killed him, Madden. I can see it on their faces. I need help.” I glanced at Vasquez and her big brown puppy eyes that seemed to blink sadly at me more often than not, and I hated it. Anger and fear made my chest constrict, and I spun the chair around so my back was to her.
