It was at that moment the crowd parted, and I caught sight of Nick’s decapitated head floating around the fountain like an apple bobbing game at a Halloween carnival. Shocked, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I watched in horror as one of the crime scene techs pulled his head from the water and bagged it.
“Excuse me,” I said, and then I calmly leaned over the side of the bench and vomited into a bed of pansies.
Pretending not to notice me emptying my guts, the officer fiddled with the notepad and pen he’d pulled from his pocket. Iappreciated his consideration. There’s nothing worse than somebody watching you puke, even if it’s justified.
Once my stomach was empty, I sat up and wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. The officer discreetly offered me a stick of gum, which made me feel better. Prepared as he was, I mustn’t have been the only one who’d ever lost their dinner in front of him.
He then proceeded to ask me standard questions.
What was my connection to Nick?
Why had we picked the shopping center as a meeting place?
What time had we planned on meeting?
I answered all his questions, though I faltered on the last one out of guilt. Ultimately, I confessed to my lateness, figuring I had no reason to hide it. Officer Dodds seemed satisfied with my answers. He was being gentle with me, too, probably gathering that I wasn’t a diabolical murderer based on the pasta I’d just upchucked into the flowers.
His next question gave me pause.
Did I know anybody who’d want to harm Nick?
Sure, about a dozen members of the VGO, my current boyfriend, my best friend and her husband, plus the slew of women he’d potentially knocked up and then ghosted while we were dating. Oh, and then there was me.
Of course, I said none of that.
I sat back on the bench and pretended to reflect. When I felt I’d paused sufficiently, I said, “In all honesty, I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt Nick. I can’t believe anyone would be angry enough to dothatto him.”
“Why did the two of you break up?”
Because he’s an asshole, I didn’t say.
“We’d been together a long time,” I said, shrugging. “Our relationship had run its course. We were going in different directions.”
Sounded reasonable enough to my own ears. What I’d said technically wasn’t a lie. Still, I hadn’t exactly made my animosity toward Nick a secret. I cringed at the thought of police gaining access to his emails. I’d sent him some doozies.
Without thinking, I added, “I’m with someone else now.”
The officer clicked his pen and poised it over his notepad. “And who would that be?”
Shit.
“You don’t think?—”
“I have to ask,” he said, almost sounding apologetic.
I sighed. “His name is Robert Bramson.”
Officer Dodds, once again taking in my ragged appearance, seemed dubious. “You don’t mean the billionaire.”
I raised my chin. “That’s right.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He might as well have snorted. He scrawled a note in his pad, probably something like:Witness Olivia Taylor is delusional. Take statements with a grain of salt.
Fine, let him think I’m crazy and pathetic, I thought. Better than him thinking I’m a coldblooded killer.
He closed his notepad and stuffed it back into his breast pocket. “You sure you can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt your ex?”
