“Hah!” I snorted. “In your dreams.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Now
The detectives returned a few days later, after arranging the meeting through Nasser.
“Where’s Cujo?” Nasser asked while we waited for the police to arrive.
“Her name isBintiand she’s a sweetie. Don’t worry, she’s behind a closed door upstairs.” I’d locked her up in my bedroom where she could sleep to her heart’s content in her favorite ray of sunshine. “Why are you so dressed up?”
Nasser straightened the cuff of his expensive-looking navy suit. “It’s part of the game. Detectives dress well. I dress well.”
“What is this? A clothes-off?” I pulled open the refrigerator to pour Nasser a glass of water. “Are you trying to intimidate them?”
“Something like that.”
“I’d be intimidated if I were going up against you.”
He chuckled. “I doubt that.”
We were settling back into a more comfortable rapport. We were friends and family, but nothing more. I handed him the water. “Why didn’t they just call me directly?”
“When I walked them out the other day, I told them that I’m your attorney, which means any contact they want to make with you goes through me.”
“Why?” I bristled a little. “I don’t need to be taken care of.” I’d let Ali call the shots most of the time, and look where that got me. I vowed never again to be so oblivious and trusting that my husband could buy an entire house from our joint account without my having a clue.
“I know that. But I’m a defense attorney. This is what I do. And it’s what Ali would expect of me.”
“Why are you being so protective?” I eyed him. “Are you worried the police think I’ve done something wrong?”
“I’m just being extra careful. I automatically tell all of my clients to speak to the police as little as possible.”
“They can’t really believe I did something to Ali, can they?” Maybe I was in denial because I hadn’t taken this possibility seriously. Mostly because I didn’t have the capacity to add another potential problem to my already-overflowing plate of troubles.
“If the detectives ask you any questions, answer calmly and succinctly. Try not to get emotional, and don’t add anything extra. Just answer the direct question.”
“I shouldn’t be emotional that my husband’s dead?”
The doorbell rang. Upstairs,Binti’s barking erupted.
“My dog is right on cue.”
I went to let the police in, eager to hear what they had to say. Maybe they’d learned how the Xanax got into Ali’s bloodstream.
The two detectives stood on my doorstep looking as polished and well dressed as last time. There were polite greetings all around before I showed them into the living room.
Once we were all settled, Detective Lloyd pulled out his phone. “I’m going to record this. For my notes.”
“I’ve no objection to that if Amira doesn’t.” Nasser retrieved his phone and started recording as well.
I stared at the dueling phone recorders. All of this felt completely surreal. “It’s fine with me.”
Detective Lloyd dipped his chin. “Great, let’s get started, then.”
“Before we do,” Nasser interjected, “I’d like to request a copy of your recording of this interview.”
“Noted, Counselor.” The detective turned his attention to me. “Mrs. Abadi, do you know a woman named Samantha Price?”
