Our Wicked Lies by Gledé Kabongo (books for new readers TXT) 📕

“The dinner didn’t go well. I wanted to check in on her. Besides, it was a tough day for her.”

“Why was that?” McBride probed.

Eliot rubbed his wrists. The back of his throat tightened as though an ever- expanding lump had lodged itself there, causing infinite agony.

“She had a difficult relationship with her son. He embarrassed her in front of everyone. It upset her. The next day was the anniversary of her brother’s death.”

He hoped the detectives didn’t pick up on his distress. Alicia hadn’t looked at him once since the interview started, but with every word he spoke, he could feel the weight of her presence. The heaviness of the truth that he couldn’t reveal.

McBride asked, “Who was present at this dinner?”

Eliot explained what transpired the night Katalina announced her feature on the cover of Tigress Magazine and how Maxim had lost it. He glanced at Alicia, hoping she would back him up, since she had taken Katalina out to the patio afterward. But his wife just kept her gaze straight ahead.

McBride forged forward with the interview. He asked how long they had known the DeLucases, who their friends were, family, associates, and of any known enemies. Eliot easily sailed through those questions.

There wasn’t much to tell. Katalina’s parents still lived in Miami. She had spent most of her adult life in New York, until she met Richard and they moved to the neighborhood. Eliot told them that Kat spent most of her time building her agency and its reputation, so besides his family, he wasn’t aware of any other friends with whom she might have had a close friendship. Richard’s family was still in New York, both parents still alive, and his brother was a chef at a downtown Los Angeles restaurant.

“Where were you between the hours of ten fifteen and eleven thirty on Tuesday morning?” Sears lobbed the question at Eliot, before countering. “It’s a standard question, Mr. Gray.”

“I went jogging around the neighborhood.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“I suppose so. I wasn’t paying attention to others around me.”

“You jog regularly?”

“Three to four times a week when I can squeeze it in. If not, I use the office gym.”

“How well do you know Richard DeLuca?” McBride asked.

“He’s a family man, good guy. Successful hedge-fund manager. Well-respected. Somewhat reserved. Why? You don’t think he had anything to do with her death?”

“We’re just trying to form an accurate picture of the DeLucases. Personal information often provides the best insights or clues.”

“Have you spoken to Richard, yet?”

“Yes, we have.”

By his tone, Eliot inferred that McBride wasn’t in the mood to share information. But Eliot would find out what the police knew. He had access to investigators at Tillerson Brenner. The firm was Katalina’s client, and Arnie wouldn’t mind using company resources to help find the facts about the case, details the police wouldn’t necessarily share with Eliot.

Katalina had been responsible for helping to build their brand image, and Arnie was all about image. If the investigation threatened the firm’s reputation, Arnie would insist on getting ahead of potential damage. Eliot would simply neglect to mention that he had a personal stake in staying apprised of the investigation, too.

Eliot had avoided Alicia’s questions in the past few days, questions about the affair he wasn’t ready to answer. He had cared deeply for Katalina, though her vicious attacks on Alicia had diminished the woman in his eyes. Then there was the forged signature on the purchase and sales agreement for a house he knew nothing about.

It pained him to admit that he’d blown his life apart for a selfish, obsessed, cruel woman who hadn’t cared who got in her way, as long as she got what she wanted. He didn’t have time to think about how her death would affect his life. Right now, he was worried that if the police found out that he and Katalina had been having an affair that his wife recently uncovered, both Alicia and he would become number-one suspects. Suspects with strong motives for murder.

Prior to the detectives coming over, he’d coached Alicia. “Keep answers short and factual. If they enter dangerous territory, I’ll jump in and end the interview. We’re both in a tight spot, Alicia. We have to be careful.”

It was only a matter of time before McBride would question Katalina’s employees, who would tell him about Alicia’s visit, and how it didn’t end well. Alicia had listened to his advice without saying a word and then shook her head once to indicate that she had heard him and would follow his instructions.

Eliot speculated that the next obvious question would be centered around the cause of the fight, especially since Alicia and Katalina were close. Then the truth of the affair would come out. There was no avoiding that. But he had already thought of ways they could spin it. Having an affair was not a crime, although it was still a strong motive for murder. He had to determine what information to provide and what to hold back without impeding the investigation or breaking the law.

But Katalina had died on Richard’s watch.

They always looked at the husband first. It didn’t mean he and Alicia were safe, however. It just meant they had options—someone else on whom investigators could cast suspicion.

CHAPTER 41

Watching Eliot in action both infuriated and reassured Alicia. He was in lawyer mode. But what was going on inside his head? Was he grieving for Kat? Did he regret the affair? Did her death devastate him?

Alicia was caught up in her own sea of grief and confusion since she’d stood in Kat’s driveway and saw her taken away in a body bag. When was it? Forty-eight hours ago? Yes. Alicia hardly knew what day it was. She had eaten little, and sleep had fled. She’d been breaking down in tears at odd times. Her insides were a muddled boiling pot of nervous knots, a sore throat, a shattered heart, and a strange fog