“Was anyone else in your bedroom?” he asks.
Irritation clacks through me. “Considering I was in the infirmary, I would have to answer no to that question.”
This time, he doesn’t look at me. “Again, I’m not talking to you, Sokolov. Miss Mooncrest.”
“No, Detective,” she says. “Nobody was in my bedroom but me.”
The door opens from the kitchen, and Percy pokes his head in. “I was here. I can vouch for her.”
“Me too,” come a chorus of voices from behind him.
Detective Battlement rolls his eyes. “Shut the door and leave us be.”
I can’t help it. Amusement dances through me. Rosalie has seven alibis if she needs them. Hell, I can create more. I do wonder who killed Blythe, though.
“Have you met Blythe Fairfax?” the detective asks.
“Yes,” Rosalie says. “She and Jaqueline Lion, my boss, met with me in my office last week.”
His bushy eyebrows rise. “What about?”
“That’s privileged,” she says instantly.
His stare intensifies. “Do you represent Mrs. Fairfax?”
“That also is privileged,” Rosalie says.
“This is a crime, Miss Mooncrest. First-degree murder. You might want to work with me.”
Joseph Cage sits forward finally and remembers he’s a lawyer, apparently. “My client is not going to violate attorney-client privilege, Detective. But I will tell you that Miss Mooncrest personally does not, and has never, represented Mrs. Fairfax.”
“Then why was Mrs. Fairfax in your office?” he asks me.
Rosalie shakes her head. “Privilege.”
“I concur,” Joseph Cage says.
So far, the guy is useless. I don’t know why he’s here, although it’s probably smart to have a lawyer, but Rosalie is more intelligent than Cage. Plus, he patted her on the knee when he sat down, and I almost took off his hand. Only the presence of the detective kept me from shredding him. Of course, there’s always later in the day.
Cage leans forward. “How did Mrs. Fairfax die? The news media has reported her death, but that’s about it.”
“Blunt force trauma to the head,” the detective says quietly, still staring at Rosalie. “Have you been in contact with Mrs. Fairfax other than the time she was in your office for a reason you will not discuss?”
Now he sounds sarcastic. I focus on him. I need to consolidate the organization and get our two computer experts under my command. Now that Hendrix is dead, it might be a war of power between Lillian and me. She doesn’t stand a chance, however. I’ll have to do a deeper dive on this detective.
He looks around. “You ever beat anybody to death, Rosalie?”
I stiffen. I preferred it when he called her Miss Mooncrest.
“No,” she says. “Of course not. Now, I’ve told you where I was, established that I have an alibi—” she looks over her shoulder at the closed doorway—“and that’s pretty much it. I do not know anything about Mrs. Fairfax’s death.”
Battlement shifts his muscled bulk “It’s my understanding that your boy here was pretty hot and heavy with Mrs. Fairfax. In fact, there’s a rumor he killed for her. You’ve heard the gossip, right?”
“I believe that lie was debunked when the video of his half brother planting evidence flew across the internet,” she says calmly.
“Ah,” Detective Battlement says. “You mean the half brother that is now dead after being stabbed with your letter opener?”
Rosalie closes her lips. Good.
