“Brendan Haggerty?” Detective Tran laughed, making me feel as if I’d been left out of some inside joke.
“Brendan left his grandmother at my place on Thursday night,” I explained. “He was supposed to pick her up before the end of the weekend, but no one has heard from him since. He’s not answering his phone, and his car is parked in the economy lot at Dulles. Given that he was supposed to pick up his grandmother yesterday and he didn’t tell anyone he was leaving town, don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? I mean,Icertainly have questions.”
“I have a few questions, too. But mine are for you.” Tran’s expression sobered as he uncapped his pen and turned the page of his notebook. My name was written inside it. “It’s lucky for me you came in tonight. I was planning to stop by your house tomorrow, but it seems you’ve saved me the trip.”
My palms began to sweat. “What kind of questions?”
“Mrs. Donovan—”
“Ms.,” I corrected him.
“Right,” he said, his mouth twitching around a smirk. “Ms. Donovan. The address where you currently live… Did you live in that same home with your ex-husband during the period when you were married?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s a simple question.”
“Yes, we lived together while we were married. Why is that important?” I insisted, growing impatient.
“And at the time you were living together, were you aware that your husband had signed a contract to complete a landscaping project for Mr. and Mrs. Owen Haggerty?”
“It was a long time ago,” I said, flustered. “I don’t remember. I was pregnant and trying to finish writing a book before my due date. And, frankly, I don’t see what any of this has to do with—”
“That book you were writing…” Detective Tran flipped a page in his notebook. “Sinister Regrets?” He glanced up at me without bothering to wait for confirmation before continuing. “That was an interesting story. I’m not much into readingthosekinds of books—I’m more of a Tom Clancy man myself—but when Mrs. Haggerty told me you were a romance novelist, I couldn’t help but be a little bit curious about them. You can tell a lot about a person by their taste in books.” He leaned back in his chair, studying me as he stroked his chin. “Turns out, there’s quite a bit of action in those novels—and not just in the sheets. Before I knew it, I’d spent my whole weekend reading. I managed to get through quite a few of your books, and I noticed some intriguing parallels.”
My spine tingled as if someone had blown an icy breath down the back of my neck.
I shot to my feet. “It’s getting late. Thank you for your time, but if you’re not going to let me talk to Steven, then I’m going to—”
“Sit down, Ms. Donovan. We’re not finished.” When I didn’t sit, he hooked a foot around the leg of my chair and gave it a sharp tug, dropping me into it as it swung into the back of my knees. “See, there’s a particularly interesting scene in one of your books—the one you must have been working on around the same time Gilford Dupree disappeared—about a woman whose lover accidentally kills a man in defense of her honor, and she—loving him as deeply as shedoes—comes up with a plan to hide the body. I’m just curious what might have inspired that idea.”
“It’s a common trope.”
“Seems awfully coincidental under the circumstances, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know. At the time, I had no idea what was happening at Mrs. Haggerty’s house.”
“Did you know what was happening in yours?” My stomach soured. Detective Tran raised an eyebrow when I didn’t answer. “Did you know your husband was having an affair, Ms. Donovan?”
Voices argued in the hall, growing louder until they culminated in shouts. I started as the door to the interrogation room flew open and Nick barged inside, flushed and breathless. “Don’t answer that,” he said to me as Detective Tran rose from his seat.
“Pretty sure you’re in the wrong office, Officer Anthony… Oh, wait,” Tran said, getting a look at the badge on Nick’s belt. “Make that the wrongcounty.”
Joey leaned on the open doorframe, rolling a toothpick in his mouth. “Give it a rest, Mike.”
Nick pulled out my chair for me and handed me my purse. “Come on, Finlay. It’s time to go.”
Detective Tran stepped in my path as Nick steered me toward the door. “This is my case. She’ll go when I say so.”
“Are you charging her with something?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
Nick pressed forward until he and Tran were toe to toe. “Unless you have a reason to hold her, she’s leaving.”
Tran lifted his chin. “Aren’t you the same detective who found all those bodies on Steven Donovan’s farm?” He gestured between Nick and me, his tone dry as tinder. “Is that how the two of you met? Or were you sleeping with each other before?”
“Ask me that one more time,” Nick said through his teeth. There was a dare in his eyes as he stared Tran down.
