I rub my forehead. “Yes, I do. But I need someone who’s done this before.”
The nervous laughter on the other end of the phone calms me for some reason. As if her discomfort justifies mine. “Uh, okay, ma’am. I can set you up a consultation appointment within the next few days if that works? We can discuss that further.”
Glancing around the room, my gaze stops on the mirror that everyone knows isn’t actually a mirror, my battered face staring back at me. The bruises are already getting darker. “That might be a little difficult, Bethany. I’m pretty sure I’m about to be arrested for my husband’s murder, and I might not be able to make it in for that appointment.”
“Oh.” The clicking of a keyboard is all I can hear for a moment before Bethany continues. “Mr. Fuller can be there in an hour. Do you know which police station you’re at?”
I recite to her what I remember reading on the sign as we walked up to the door of the building. “Is he good?”
“Got it. I just let Mr. Fuller know. And yes, he’s the best and most experienced attorney in our firm. We can get the retainer taken care of after you speak with him.”
“How much is the retainer?”
Bethany hesitates for a moment. “For a charge like this, $35,000.”
I have no idea how much money Blake has. Or had. But since I started working right after we moved to Nashville, I’ve kept a separate bank account. Blake never questioned where my paychecks went since he paid all the bills, and I never asked him for money. It worked out well for both of us. So, I have plenty of money to cover the attorney’s fee. “Okay, thank you.”
She asks me a few more demographic questions and tells me again that Mr. Fuller will get down to the station as soon as he can. I thank her again and disconnect the call.
After slipping my phone into my purse, the tendrils of restless, anxious energy dip into my stomach and twist. I’m not often scared, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling exactly that right now.
Blake is dead.
I found him.
I don’t know a lot about evidence, but it seems like what they have to prove I did it is shaky at best. Unless…I shake my head, hoping the action clears my thoughts. I’ve watched enough true crime shows to know that cases have been tried and people have been found guilty with little evidence, though. At the end of the day, it’s what can be spun into a convincing tale to get the jury on the prosecutor’s side.
The chair screeches across the floor when I push it back to stand. I need to move around or I will lose it. I start to pace, my mind a jumbled mess of every emotion, every thought, making me dizzy as I try to make sense of it all.
To tamp down feelings I don’t have time to deal with right now, I pull out my phone to make another call. I tap my fingers on the side of my thigh as I wait for her to answer.
Finally, my assistant picks up. “Lily? Is everything okay?”
I rub my forehead and let my eyes close as I do my best to compartmentalize what occurred. “Hi, Anna. It’s a little complicated. But not exactly. Can you cancel my meetings for today and tomorrow? I won’t be in.”
Even if I’m not arrested today, I figure I should take a few days to adjust to whatever this new life is going to be.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure, I can do that. Will you be in on Wednesday?”
Looking up, I find my own face in the two-way mirror once more. I touch my fingertips to my cheek gingerly, where my split skin is starting to scab over. This is embarrassing. But hopefully I can cover it with enough makeup to disguise it. It’s not the first time I’ve had to do it.
I turn away from the mirror, no longer wanting to see the evidence of how awful my life was, even before today. “I should be. But I’ll keep you posted.”
“Okay.” She hesitates. “Lily, I know you’re my boss, but I also consider you a friend. Do you need anything?”
My shoulders sag slightly. Anna really is one of my only friends. Mostly because I’ve been too busy to put in the effort. Also, my life felt like such a mess that I figured no one would want to get close to me.
I let out a slow exhale. “I really appreciate you asking, Anna. I think I’m okay right now, but there’s a possibility that I might need something. If you get a call from a number you don’t know, can you answer it? I might not have my phone.”
Her voice is a mix of sadness, confusion, and concern. “Of course. I’ll be waiting by my phone. I’m not kidding, Lily. I’ll help in any way I can.”
“I know, thank you.” I resume my pacing. “I’m going to let you go. But I’ll call you later.”
Hanging up the phone, I cross my arms over my chest. I rarely allow myself the luxury, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to crawl into my bed and spend the rest of the day curled up there, maybe with a good book or just watching mindless television and forgetting about all of this shit.
I’m midway across the room in my attempt to dispel some of this anxious energy, when the door creaks open behind me. I spin around and see Detective Martinez and the younger detective from earlier, who I learned is Detective Barrington, entering the room. The door clicks closed behind them, and Barrington gestures at the table, letting me know I should sit down.
Right now, I don’t trust anyone in this entire building, but there’s a small part of me that’s consoled now that Martinez is in the room with me. There’s just an air about him that makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, all hope isn’t lost quite yet.
