Kelsi put a, hopefully, dazzling smile on her face, giving the rude receptionist her full wattage. “Hi! We’re the Woodses. My husband and I”—she clutched Dylan’s bicep, curling into him—“were hoping to get a meeting with Scarlett Frazier today, to get her expertise on PR for a charity we’re starting. Is she available now? I thought about calling ahead, but the two of us had a rare moment to come in together, so we took advantage of it. He’s very busy with his Fortune 500 company, you see.”
The receptionist’s gaze grew rounder as she suddenly eyed them with new interest, clearly seeing dollar signs. “She has a busy itinerary today, but she’s in her office right now. Let me see if she has time to meet with you at such late notice. Please, have a seat and I’ll be right back with you.”
She stood and walked to the door behind her desk, and Kelsi caught sight of her precarious five-inch heels before the door closed behind her. They sat down in one chair, her on his lap and with Dylan’s arms around her.For the ploy, she reminded herself, but couldn’t help leaning into his body.
He dipped his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “If we’re the Woodses, am I Elle or are you?”
She shivered at the feel of his lips brushing her earlobe, and his arm tightened around her.
“I am. You’re Bruiser.” Her voice was breathy to her own ears, and she pulled back from him slightly to try to clear her head as he chuckled. He wasjusther friend. She had to remind herself she couldn’t fall back into his trap again. His touchy behavior was only an act, but it was confusing her. It felt all too real, and it was too easy to slip into her old delusions.
Luckily, the door swung open and the receptionist strode back in, smiling now. “Ms. Frazier said she’s willing to fit you both in for an impromptu meeting now, although she only has fifteen minutes until her next consultation. If you’ll follow me.” She held the door until they reached her, then released it. Dylan had to lunge to catch the swinging mass before it shut on Kelsi.
They followed the receptionist through the door and down the hallway to the second office on their right, which was made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows to separate the office from the hallways. She gave a perfunctory knock on the door before ushering them inside. “Ms. Frazier, this is Mr. and Mrs. Woods.”
Kelsi recognized the woman behind the desk from the images she’d seen from the case file. She had impeccably curled and dyed honey-blonde hair that fell above her shoulders, a tall slim figure, and soft brown eyes that spoke of an unexpected gentle demeanor. She’d expected her to be cold and calculating, since she’d been friends with Charles McGuinness for so many years.
Scarlett stood from her desk and made her way to meet Kelsi and Dylan halfway into the room, giving them both a firm handshake. “Thank you, Lauren.” She effectively dismissed the receptionist, who tossed her head and spun on a stiletto, closing the door behind her. “It’s so lovely to meet you both. Please”—she gestured to the office chairs in front of her desk—“sit.”
Kelsi complied, sitting on the surprisingly comfortable chair. Dylan sat next to her, placing a hand on her knee, touching the bare skin her pencil skirt didn’t cover. Scarlett walked around her desk and relaxed into her large wingback chair.
“So,” Scarlett began, smiling at them both easily, “Lauren told me that you’re here for a consultation regarding a new philanthropy you’re hoping to establish?”
Kelsi took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Dylan’s hand squeezed her knee in support.
“Actually, Ms. Frazier, we aren’t here for your PR counseling.”
Scarlett’s brow furrowed. “Speak plainly, Mrs. Woods. Whatareyou here for?”
Kelsi leaned forward, placing a hand over Dylan’s on her knee to steady herself. “We’re both prosecutors for the Jefferson County Commonwealth’s Attorney’s Office.”
Scarlett’s eyes widened in panic, and her hands turned white as she gripped the edge of her desk tightly.
“We were hoping to talk to you about some inconsistencies with your statements to the police after Tripp Daniels’s death.”
CHAPTER 25
Dylan
8 Days to Trial
Dylan watched asScarlett’s hands began to shake, and she looked at the door, obviously frightened.
“You have to go,” she pleaded. “If Charlie finds out I talked to you, he ...” Her voice trailed off, and she took several deep breaths with her eyes shut tightly.
Kelsi kept her voice gentle. “What, Ms. Frazier? What will Mr. McGuinness do?”
“I—I don’t know, but it wouldn’t be anything good.” Her face was wan, reflecting the fluorescent light overhead. The sky outside was overcast now, a far cry from the sunny morning, and the weather shadowed their surroundings as sufficiently as the mood in the room.
Dylan chimed in. “Ms. Frazier, if you saw something that night, something that could help us get justice for Tripp, we would like for you to testify. And we wouldn’t leave you unprotected. You’d have a police detail, around the clock, until the trial’s over.”
She shook her head, eyes unfocused. “No, you don’t understand. He’s not—he’s not well. He’s notnormal.”
“Okay,” Kelsi said, voice still soft, “then help us to.”
She stood from her desk and walked to the window. Scarlett stared out for a minute, arms clasped tightly around herself, before she spoke. “When we were kids, it was more obvious. McGuinness would hurt animals. Mainly stray cats that came too close, looking for food. He would taunt them with scraps then kick them when they came close enough. I always cried when he did it, which only made him laugh. He said ‘they’re a drain on society’ and not worth the resources it took to care for them.
“But he’d learned there were some things he could get away with more easily than others. He didn’t hurt animals anymore where others could see, at least, but he was unnecessarily cruel sometimes. He would act like the perfect gentleman, but his eyes—they were always dead. That always scared me more than anything else. Looking into his eyes is like looking into the devil’s. He grew up an only child, his parents were never around, and when they were, he could do no wrong. They gave him anything and everything he asked for, and he never faced any consequences. The school swept incidents of bullying under the rug thanks to the money his parents shoved at them. If he didn’t get his way, which was rare, he would lose it. Raging about everyone and everything.”
