“I’m not implying you won’t be safe here,” Remi said. “I’m just saying that’s an option if it would make you feel more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” Cressida said. “I appreciate the offer.” Why were these people so nice? She wasn’t accustomed to suchkindness. She sat forward and rested her elbows on her thighs. “Listen, I know this is kind of morbid for me to ask in the middle of everything that’s happened. But I really need to talk to Evelyn Monroe. Talking to her is going to give me some big answers. Tonight Braden took me out to talk to the so-called pirate king, Captain Diggins. He won’t answer my questions unless I get something from her.”
Remi narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean ‘get’?”
“I don’t meantake—of course not. No, no. I plan to talk to her. But now that Madeline has tried to cause her harm, me requesting an interview sounds so insensitive. I’m sorry.”
“Cressida, what exactly did Diggins ask you to get? What does he want from Evelyn?”
“I don’t know what it means. He simply said that he wanted the truth from her.”
20
On his motorcycle, Braden raced to Driftwood Manor. He hadn’t wanted to leave Cressida behind, especially after what she’d learned from Diggins. The man had a lot to answer for, but one thing at a time.
Braden had left Cressida in good hands.
Since taking on the position in the county offices as detective a few months ago, Braden had worked with Hawk and Cole on an investigation surrounding Jo, and he could trust them to watch out for Cressida. He’d had the bright idea a couple of months ago to enlist them as reserve deputies, so they essentially worked for the county sheriff’s department when needed, holding full arrest powers.
The beautiful night had turned stormy, fitting for his mood. He put all his focus on the slick, curvy two-lane road that wound through a black forest, finally steering up to Evelyn Monroe’s mansion on the cliff. An ambulance along with two county sheriff’s department vehicles were parked on the circular drive at the front of the house.
Braden arrived just in time and bounded up the steps. Nocrime-scene tape to secure the area or official log-in system to slow his entry, but this wasn’t exactly a busy intersection. He stepped inside and took in the immaculate foyer, and beyond that, a sweeping staircase. He was curious to know more about someone who would choose to live alone in this gothic fortress overlooking the ocean.
The voice of an older woman speaking in both an authoritative and strained tone drifted to him as he continued into the living room to the left, where a stone fireplace made a grand statement. The silver-haired woman sat in a deep-blue velvet chair. And his gut clenched. Evelyn Monroe. Had to be. He’d never met her, but this was her home. And now part of it was a crime scene.
Braden hung back at the edge of the Persian rug, surprised as Trent spoke with her. Trent? Thatcher approached from behind and touched his shoulder, then motioned for him to follow him back into the foyer.
“Where are we?” Braden asked.
“Waiting on the coroner to give me the time of death to make sure everything works in the timeline.”
“What happened?” Braden leaned in to say the words under his breath. He’d withheld from Cressida that someone had died tonight.
“Monroe returned from her trip earlier than expected and overheard Madeline arguing with a stranger in a room Monroe told her was off-limits. When Madeline exited the room, Monroe was standing at the top of the stairs and confronted her. Madeline pushed her, but Monroe was able to catch herself and didn’t topple down the stairwell, which could have killed her. Madeline had wanted her dead, based on the conversation she overheard.”
“And what was the conversation?”
“She hasn’t told us yet,” Thatcher said. “That’s foryouto find out.”
“Then why is Trent talking to her?”
“He was already taking her statement when I arrived.”
“So what happened next, after Madeline pushed her?”
“Madeline ran past Monroe and exited the premises. Monroe grabbed a shotgun from the gun closet and opened the door to the room where Madeline had been arguing to find a man standing there.Hethen lifted a handgun, aimed it at her, but she shot first.”
“She killed him?”
Sheriff Thatcher nodded. “She’s an eighty-one-year-old dynamo, and it goes without saying that she’s upset.”
Anguish weighed on Braden that Evelyn Monroe had been put through this.
“An APB has been put out on Madeline Chase.”
“Do we know who the man was?”
“I think we do. Follow me upstairs.”
