Page 2 of The Devil’s Lair

“I said, do you understand?”

I’m too afraid to ask them to repeat whatever it is I’m supposed to understand, so I nod. No matter what I do my hands will not stop shaking.

“For the tape, please.”

I flick my gaze to the tape recorder, the solid red light an indication it’s capturing everything I say. “Yes, I understand.”

Blakeley leans forward, his fingers threaded together and forearms braced on the table. “Where did the gun come from, Mrs. La Salle?”

My chin trembles. I wrap my arms around myself. I’m so cold. So cold. “It’s Marcus’s gun,” I whisper.

“How did it end up at the club?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“You do know,” Chadwick snaps. “Mrs. La Salle, the handgun involved in tonight’s shooting is illegal, and I want to know where it came from.”

“It’s Marcus’s gun,” I repeat. “I don’t know where he got it from. You’ll have to ask him.”

Blakeley glances at Chadwick, who gives a brief nod, before he returns his attention to me. “Mrs. La Salle, did you not hear me when I said the shooting at the club was fatal?”

“Yes, I heard. I’m so sorry. That poor man. Marcus was going to shoot me, and he jumped in front of me. He saved my life.” My voice breaks, and I cover my face with my hands. “He saved me, and now he’s dead. It’s my fault.”

“Mrs. La Salle.” Blakeley’s tone is gentle, coaxing. Slowly, I drop my hands back to the table. “Mr. De Vil, the man who you say took the bullet meant for you, is alive.”

“What?”

“I said he’s alive.”

The torrent of relief that rushes through me leaves me lightheaded. I squeeze my eyes closed, waiting for the spinning to stop. “Thank God,” I mutter.

“He’s in surgery, so not out of the woods yet. As of now, though, he isn’t dead.” Blakeley falls silent. Only when I open my eyes and look at him does he continue. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. La Salle. It’s your husband who was fatally shot.”

I blink, my lips parting. Did he say…? Did he…? Marcus is dead?

“Are you sure?” I whisper.

“Positive,” Blakeley says. “I’m sorry. I assumed you knew. You were there.”

He’s right, I was, but after Marcus fired the gun, everything is hazy. Chaotic. I remember commotion, shouting, someone wrapping a robe around me. Sirens. Police. Then being brought in here.

“There are gaps. I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the shock.” Blakeley’s kind smile is meant to reassure me. Unfortunately, Chadwick’s sour scowl cancels the other man’s empathy. “Would you like us to call a doctor?”

“No. I’m okay. I just want to go home.”

“How did the gun end up at The Lair, Mrs. La Salle?” Chadwick asks.

“Please, my daughter. Her babysitter will be wondering where we are.”

He sighs, drumming his fingers against the table. “The sooner you answer our questions, the sooner this is over with.” Chadwick’s eyes bore into me. For a second, I consider lying, even though it’s pointless. They already know the truth.

Marcus is dead.

My years of torment are over.

“I took the gun to the club.” Whatever trouble I’m in, at least it’s not as bad as it would have been if I’d gone through with my plan to shoot Marcus.