Page 49 of Keeping Knight

Micah squeezes even closer to me.

“You must have been very upset,” the Nice Cop says.

Sylvia blinks. Then she scowls at him. “My husband died. How do you think I felt?”

“Then you found out about the will,” the other officer interjects. He hasn’t spoken much yet, but his features have been set in the same dour expression since the interview started. “Were you upset about that, too?”

She flicks a quick look at her attorney, and he gives her a small nod. “I wasn’t happy about it,” Sylvia replies, “if that’s what you’re asking.”

The dour officer—who I’m guessing is the Bad Cop of the duo—leans forward. “You were unhappy enough to consult ‌an attorney about the will. Isn’t that correct?”

“That’s confidential,” her attorney says with a frown. “Client attorney privilege. You know that.”

“What was discussed during the meetings is confidential,” Bad Cop retorts. “But what Mrs. Ashe told her friends about the meetings isn’t. Neither is the number of times she went to the attorney’s office. Or the large retainer she paid.”

“So what if I talked to an attorney?” Sylvia asks. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“It doesn’t,” Bad Cop agrees. “Not on its own.”

“But combined with the other evidence,” he continues, “it makes you a suspect in our investigation. Which is why you’re here.” He levels a steady glare at her. “By your own admission, you were unhappy with the will. Why?”

Sylvia flicks a look at her attorney. He leans close to her and whispers something. She frowns before turning back to the officers. “I’d rather not answer that.”

“Come on,” Nice Cop urges. “Look, just explain it to us. If you were just upset, grieving… we understand that. But we need to know the specifics. It’s the quickest way for us to clear you.”

Or throw her in jail, I silently add. But I’m not surprised Nice Cop didn’t include that part.

After several seconds of silence, Sylvia sighs heavily. “I was grieving. My husband had just died. Of course, I was upset. But that has nothing to do with the will.”

“Why were you upset about the will, then?”

“I had concerns about its legitimacy.”

Bad Cop’s eyebrows jump up. “Its legitimacy? How so?”

Anger clouds Sylvia’s face. “Because David gave everything to Ruby.”

“His only child?” Bad Cop asks. “How is that unfair?”

“I was his wife,” she shoots back. “His wife. He should have left more to me.”

“But he left you money in his will, didn’t he?” Nice Cop presses. “Right?”

“An old house,” Sylvia replies with a scowl. “Some cars. A few savings accounts. But it didn’t come close to all of David’s assets. He had millions in the bank. Not to mention the camp in the Adirondacks, and the house on the Cape… What he left me was a pittance compared to that.”

The longer I listen to Sylvia, the sicker I feel. I always thought she was materialistic, but I never realized just how much she cared about my dad’s money. I thought she married him because she loved him. And now I’m not sure.

“Why did you think you could contest the will?” Bad Cop asks. “There have to be grounds. What did you think they were?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” her attorney interrupts.

Sylvia turns to the officer. Her face flushes with anger. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I went to an attorney because I think Ruby tricked David into leaving everything to her.”

“What?” I gasp. My heart slams hard. How could she say that?

“Tricked him?” Nice Cop cocks his head questioningly. “You think Ruby Ashe manipulated your husband into changing his will?”

“Yes,” Sylvia replies. “I think it’s very possible.”