His face tensed, and his nervous eyes flicked between the two of us. "What's the problem?"
"No problem. We just need to ask you a few questions.”
"I don't talk to cops.”
He started to shut the sliding door, but I put my foot in the track.
He clenched his jaw and glared at me. It was a bullshit move, but I wanted to talk to the guy.
"Look, you’re not in any trouble. But you might be able to help us."
"Help you?" he said with a wrinkled brow and eyes full of disbelief.
"I don't know if you're aware, but Eden Saint is dead.”
Ethan frowned. "I know.”
"I bet you’re pretty bummed about that."
"Why do you say that?”
"You were her biggest fan."
Confusion wrinkled his brow. "How do you know that?"
His nervous eyes darted between us again.
"We talked to some of Eden's friends.”
"So?”
"You spent a lot of money with her.”
"What can I say? She just did it for me.”
"For that kind of money, I’d want her to do a lot for me."
"Yeah, well, she didn't feel that way.”
"How did that make you feel?”
"Made me feel like I didn’t want to give her any more money.”
"Yet you still gave her more," I said.
"A sucker’s born every minute."
"Speaking of, where does all that money come from?”
His brow knitted again. "What business is that of yours?”
I shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a lot of money to spend. What do you do for a living?"
"None of your goddamn business."
"Can you tell me where you were at the time of Eden’s murder?”
He glared at me. "I don't know. When was she murdered?"
