The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

Elliot’s eyebrows tugged together, and he struggled with how to respond. “Actually, I believe they’re interested in questioning the younger Mr. Hale.”

What? My heart skittered as I processed what he’d said, but my body moved instinctively. As I stood, I kept my gaze locked on Elliot, and felt my father’s attention snap toward me. It burned with unease and perhaps . . . protectiveness? His curiosity wanted to know what I’d done to bring police to our doorstep, but I didn’t have an answer for that.

I kept my nose clean, both figuratively and literally. A lot of the people in my social circle did drugs, and everyone knew Richard Shaunessy was a cokehead, but me? I’d never strayed into the hard stuff.

And certainly not anything to put me on anyone’s radar.

“All right,” I said. “Can you show them in, please?”

There was a tightness in my chest when the two men were ushered into the room. Their gazes briefly wandered over the lavish furnishings and snagged for a moment on my father, before settling on me.

“Mr. Hale,” the taller of the two men said, taking a step my direction, “I’m Detective Hawkins, and this is my partner, Detective Lewis.” They both wore suits with their gold department badges hanging from their breast pockets. “We have some questions for you.”

My father’s tone was brusque. “Don’t say anything without a lawyer.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, likely looking for his attorney’s number.

My whole life, I’d done what he wanted. The path of least resistance was usually the fastest, and when you fell in line, you often got overlooked. It meant I could get away with things and gave me freedoms Royce never had.

No one looked too closely at the younger Hale boy.

And, yes, it was smart for my father to be cautious, but had he forgotten I was an attorney? Not that I was stupid enough to represent myself, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. I could listen and always lawyer up if I didn’t like the line their questioning took.

Detective Lewis, the older, rougher-looking cop, rested a hand on his hip and studied me critically. “Do you feel like you need a lawyer?”

His partner scowled. “We’re not here to charge you. We just want to have a conversation.” He tacked it on to the end as a threat. “For now.”

A challenge rose in Lewis’s small eyes. “If you’d rather we do this at the precinct, we can make that happen, but let’s save us all the time, yeah?”

I swallowed dryly. “What’s this about?”

Hawkins nodded, satisfied. “When was the last time you were in contact with Jillian Lambert?”

Concern welled inside me. “Why? What’s happened?”

“Please answer the question, sir.”

“A few days ago.” I searched my mind for the specifics. “Friday. We spoke on the phone.” Which was odd, now that I thought about it. I was twenty-seven. Like everyone else my age, I was phone adverse, and all my conversations were done via text.

“What did you talk about?”

I paused. “Stuff.”

Irritation heated Hawkins’s face. “What kind of stuff?”

“Personal stuff,” I answered with a clipped voice. “What’s this about?”

When my question went ignored, it made worry spike further in me. Had Jillian done something?

“What is the nature of your relationship with Ms. Lambert?”

My gaze darted to my father. “It’s complicated.”

The detectives exchanged a knowing look before Lewis’s attention swung back to me. “I bet two smart guys like us can figure it out, plus we’ve got the time for you to explain it.”

I took in a breath, causing my chest to lift. “We’re friends.”

He didn’t believe me. “Like the kind of friends who sleep with each other?”

“No.” Not that it was any of their business. “Not anymore.”

“Was that what you talked about? Did she end things with you?”

“No, we stopped dating a while ago, and it was mutual.” Abruptly, my pulse jumped, and my concern grew exponentially larger. I didn’t bother to disguise the worry in my voice. “Has something happened to Jillian?”

Years ago, it was decided it would be advantageous to align our family with the Lamberts. Wayne Lambert was an enormous asshole, but he was also tight with the president, and my father had political aspirations. I’d been instructed to seduce the oldest daughter, and like the dutiful son I was, I’d done it.

I’d been forced into a relationship, only to discover the same was true for Jillian. Her father wanted to see her married off to a Hale. So, I wasn’t lying when I said we were friends. The pressure we both felt gave us a kinship I’d never had with anyone before. Plus, she was attractive, easy to hang out with, and the sex was solid. We dated to appease our families, and if Alice hadn’t gone over the balcony railing and died, it was likely Jillian would have become my wife.