Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
He cocks his head, holding eye contact. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. And I would have heard it,” I point out, realizing I shouldn’t even be humoring this line of questioning. “I would have heard a gunshot from his bedroom. I didn’t. Instead, I heard Tor and Tim exchange words while Tor was coming up the hallway. I think Tim was ribbing him or something about having me over. I don’t know, I didn’t hear much, then Tor shut the bedroom door. But Timothy Walters was still very much alive.”
“Then what happened?”
“Tor and I had sex. In his bed. We fell asleep after, and then we woke up when we heard a loud noise downstairs.”
“Did you hear any other noises? Anything that sounded like a struggle? Voices?”
“No. If any of that happened, it must have been before we woke up.”
“What time was it when you heard the loud noise?”
“I’m not sure. Like I said, we were asleep.”
“You didn’t grab your phone and check?”
I shake my head. “It was in my purse. Tor threw back the covers and told me to stay put. He went downstairs to check out the noise, and that’s when he found Tim bleeding on the floor. The front door was open; he closed it—because if there was an intruder still out there, he obviously didn’t want them coming in and hurting either of us—and then he called for help.”
“Did he lock the door?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t downstairs.”
“Did you go downstairs at all?"
“Not after I went up to his bedroom. Not until the police brought me down to take me to the station.”
“And what did you say to the police?”
“I didn’t say much of anything. I told them briefly what happened, just the basics—we were asleep and woke up because of a loud noise. I told them I didn’t want to talk to them without a lawyer. I’m aware that my motive makes me a potential suspect.”
The lawyer nods, his watchful gaze on me. “Let’s talk about that. How did you feel about Timothy Walters?”
“I hated him,” I answer honestly.
He nods once. “Did you ever tell anyone you wished him dead?”
“No.”
“Did you ever threaten him?”
I scoff, shaking my head. “He wasn’t afraid of me.”
“Wasn’t what I asked,” he reminds me.
“No, I never threatened him. Not with anything beyond legal action, anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I didn’t want to face him, so I stayed away from him.”
“Did you ever imagine killing him?”
My eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
I hesitate, and I know it’s a mistake, but I can’t help it. “No.”
I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Is there any evidence that would prove otherwise?”
My stomach sinks, remembering the journal.
The journal Tor hasn’t returned to me.
I completely forgot until this moment, but the knowledge that someone—and I don’t even know who—does have evidence against me makes my blood run cold. “Even if I did imagine it, it’s not illegal to imagine things,” I point out.
“No, but it doesn’t look good.”
“There’s no evidence that I ever thought about killing him,” I say carefully, the words like ash in my mouth.
He jots down a note on his legal pad, then continues. “Before speaking to the police last night, did you and Torrance Walters discuss what happened?”
“I mean, of course. He told me what happened. He told me he had called the police and they were on their way.”
“If I go over Torrance’s version of events and yours, will they match?”
“They should.”
“Because you coordinated your stories?”
“Because I’m telling the truth,” I lie. “And Tor has no reason to lie to you, either.”
He nods. “If I take on your case, there will be conditions. First, you don’t speak to the police without me present. You may not even speak to them with me present. Second, you do not discuss the facts of this case with anyone, including Torrance Walters.”
I frown. “That seems… how would we not talk about it?”
“You can’t,” he tells me. “You don’t want your story to feel coordinated. Stories need to match, but they can’t sound rehearsed. It’s a delicate balance, and if you and Torrance discuss it and get on the precise same line of the same exact page, it will hurt you more than help you. You have motive and opportunity to have committed this murder, and if they find a murder weapon they can also tie to you, then there’s very little chance I can get you off. But Torrance knowingly agreeing to be your alibi would make him an accomplice, even if he knew nothing of your plan before the murder—even if he had no real part in it. He could spend the rest of his life in prison.”
My heart leaps to my throat.
Life in prison.
He gives me a few seconds for that to sink in, then he goes on.
“I don’t know if you care what happens to Torrance Walters, but if you do, and you think there’s a decent chance that evidence could be found that would lead to a conviction for you, then you need to separate yourself from him. And now is the time to make that decision—not later.”