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)
I shake my head, knowing my answer doesn’t matter anyway.
He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “It’s really starting to come down out there,” he comments, his gaze flicking to the window.
“Yeah, I hear that.”
He flashes me a polite smile, then asks, “Can I get your name, for the record?”
I watch as he opens a notebook and poises the nub of his pen over the pad. “Um, yeah. It’s Cassie—well, Cassandra Pritchard. People call me Cassie.”
“All right, Cassie.” He regards me, then continues, “First things first, are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.” His pen moves across the paper. “I spoke with Torrance Walters downstairs. That’s your boyfriend?”
Instantly, my skin warms. “He—I wouldn’t call him that, but we know each other, yes.”
He watches me but doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for an uncomfortable beat, then he asks, “What brings you to the Walters house tonight, Miss Pritchard?”
“I was visiting Tor.”
“Visiting.” He jots something down in his notebook. “What did you two do tonight?”
I sigh softly, deeply embarrassed, but knowing what he’s getting at. “We had sex.”
“I see.” Another notation. “Is that a regular occurrence?”
“Not regular, but it’s happened before.”
“But he’s not your boyfriend.”
“Correct.”
He nods and takes more notes. “And can you tell me what happened here tonight?”
I swallow. “I really don’t know what happened. Tor and I were upstairs. Here, in his bedroom.” I gesture to the bed. “I guess we fell asleep after, but something woke us up. A loud noise. He told me to stay here, and he went downstairs to check it out.”
“About what time was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“And you were up here the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear any loud noises after he left the room?”
My brow furrows slightly. “No?”
“You don’t sound sure.”
“I—” I open my mouth, then wonder if this is when I should cut off the questioning. “I didn’t hear any gunshots or anything like that, if that’s what you’re asking. I heard Tor close the front door. He said it was open when he went downstairs, so he closed it in case the guy was still out there.”
The cop’s eyebrows rise. “The guy? Did you see a man?”
“No. I didn’t see anything. I was in bed.”
“Did Torrance say he saw a man?”
“No. But he saw his brother… bleeding, and the front door was open. He could see that he had been shot or something. He shut the front door so that whoever was out there—if they were still out there—didn’t come in and hurt us, too.”
“Did anybody want to hurt all of you?”
“I don’t think so.”
He waits to see if I offer more, and when I don’t, he jots something down and then continues with his questions. “To your knowledge, was anything stolen from the house?”
“Not to my knowledge, but I wouldn’t have any knowledge of that. It’s not my house, and I’m not here often.”
“Do you think somebody was here tonight to hurt Timothy specifically?”
“I have no idea.”
“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt him?”
That’s my cue. Sighing softly, I say, “Unfortunately, I can’t answer any more questions without a lawyer present.”
His lips press into a thin, knowing line, and he nods. It’s the first indication I get that he might recognize me. “That’s your right.” He jots one final note down in his notebook. “I’ll need you to sit tight right here for now, all right?”
I nod.
“Do you have your phone?” he asks me.
I glance at my purse. “Yeah, it’s in there.”
“Okay. Well, make sure you don’t use it to communicate with the surviving Mr. Walters, all right? We’re required to keep you two separated until we’ve had a chance to get all the information we need from both of you.”
“Okay.”
“And make sure you don’t delete anything off it,” he adds, with his fake-ass congenial smile as he prepares to leave the room. “We’ll need to look at that later.”
My phone.
I hadn’t even thought about my phone. I haven’t touched it once since I’ve been at the lake house—I even left it in my car. I didn’t need my phone or purse to commit a murder, and that was all I came here to do.
But could something incriminating be on it? I feel insane even thinking it, but at this point, I would feel terrible if I got Tor in trouble. I don’t know why he’s helping me when it’s his brother I killed, but he is, and he’s putting his own neck out to give me an alibi. What if I messed it up by opening an app at the wrong time or something?
I try to think back to before I left the house. Truly, I wasn’t on it then either. With what I was planning to do, I was in a solemn mood. I was very much present, processing what I believed to be my last hours of freedom.
I didn’t use the GPS to get here. I came by memory.