“They’re not going to ask about you.This is about Mr.Grant and his wife.So, tell them what you can,” he explained.“You aren’t the one on trial.There’s no judge here.Relax.”
Not yet, but if she said the wrong thing, they might start looking at her again.Which would destroy all the happiness she’d recently discovered.Fink couldn’t stick around if they were investigating her, even if he wanted to, or if she got convicted.That was too risky for him.She’d never ask him to.If she were in that position, Fink sticking around put him in far too much danger.
Shaking that idea from her brain, she decided not to find out.There was no point in worrying about stuff that wouldn’t happen.The police and the prosecutor thought she had done nothing wrong.Her job was to reassure them they were on the right trail with Mrs.Grant.
Chloe.
A nice enough woman.
Sydney hadn’t met her in person.They’d spoken on the phone a few times.Sydney had lied to her when Mitchell was with his girlfriends or didn’t want to go home.He wasn’t big on family.Surprising, since he was knocking women up left and right.
Internally, she rolled her eyes.The world was a better place without Mitchell Grant.His children would be spared his misogyny.His murder was the right thing to do.
The door to the conference room opened, and Sydney’s head snapped toward it.
A woman with her hair slicked back into a bun wearing a dark pantsuit entered with a balding fella behind her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she took a seat opposite her.“I’m Joyce Dunning from Samuel Milford’s office.We only want to go over some details and get a better understanding of what you know about Mitchell Grant and his untimely death.”
Everything.
Sydney inhaled.This was it.Showtime.
Fink
Fink shouldn’t be here.His presence would only make their situation more complicated.No one knew, or even suspected, his involvement.He was free and clear.
Yet here he was, hacking into the security system.
He’d done this several times over the past week to establish a pattern of glitchy cameras.That way, when he showed up, people wouldn’t suspect anything.It was hard to play a long game when there wasn’t much lead-up.
Mentally, he patted himself on the back.Somehow, he managed.
Wearing navy coveralls, a matching hat, and his signature makeup, he approached the door with no one the wiser.Sure, if peoplereallylooked at him, they’d be perplexed by his white face and blue clown makeup, but by keeping his chin tucked and his head down, no one seemed to care.
After he pressed the bell, he clasped his hands together and waited while a small dog barked from within.It had to be one of those designer teacup ones based on the sound of the yapping.One that had more bravado than brains.
Soon the door opened.
A woman wearing a flowy, slightly floral dress with a deep V neckline stood with her hand resting on her protruding belly.Her blond hair was pulled up in a purposefully messy bun, and her makeup was a bit overdone for a lady hanging out at home in the middle of the week.
She gave off the vibe of someone expecting a visitor.
In theory, yes.Fink.He was there to repair her security cameras.Or so she thought.He’d fix something for sure.
“Hello?”she greeted as her gaze swept him up and down.
“Mrs.Grant, I’m here from Montanaro Security Systems.We hear you’re having issues with the feeds?”he said with a tip of his hat.
She eyed him suspiciously.
“I’m due at the children’s hospital down the road in, like, an hour.”Fink thumbed behind him.“I perform for the kids.”
She furrowed her brow before nodding.
The story was weak at best, but most accepted it.Especially when there were hospitals nearby.He hadn’t a clue if anyone still volunteered and dressed as clowns, but people thought they did, so he rolled with it.
“I need to access your servers,” he said.
