Detective Hastings shook his head. “So, you were with Logan Gibbs from the time you got home from your parents’ house until this morning when we showed up at your door?”
“Yes,” I answered.Chapter 15Sometimes I wake up and realize that I’d rather stab myself in the thigh with a rattlesnake than get up and go to work.
-Logan’s secret thoughts
Logan
“You can go into interrogation room one,” Bridges murmured, jerking his chin in the direction of the interrogation room.
“Is that really necessary?” I asked. “And can you just ask me right now? I have to be on shift in about twenty minutes. How about we do this in the locker room where I can get ready for work?” I paused. “Because you know how Captain Morgan is. If I’m late, I’m going to hear about it. And by ‘hear about it’ I mean he’s going to rip me a new asshole.”
Bridges sighed.
“I would, if the chief hadn’t specifically said that I needed to treat this case like I would any other case,” he answered. “Roberts told me this morning that though he wanted to be apprised of what was going on from beginning to end, that I needed to be extremely careful about cutting corners. I also needed to make sure that we did this in the interrogation rooms where it could be recorded. That there would be no biased police work seeing as the prime suspect is his daughter.”
I let that sink in for a moment.
“What? What are you talking about?”
He gestured to the interrogation room with his chin.
“Go inside,” he ordered again.
I sighed. “Can I at least tell Captain Morgan that I’m going to be late?”
“Already done, Gibbs,” I heard Captain Morgan growl from behind me. “Just get in there.”
I looked at him over my back and nodded, heading in without another word.
I just didn’t want to have my ass kicked. Or lose my job.
Both meant a lot to me.
My ass for obvious reasons, and my job because I had to have it to pay for shit—like food, water, and lawyers.
Lawyers that I had no doubt were about to be on my plate once again.
“What are you doing?” I heard from behind me as I took a seat at the table.
I sure hoped that they’d cleaned it from the last time I’d looked in the room.
There’d been a rather large man with only underwear on sweating up a storm on the table.
I glanced at said table and decided that I wouldn’t be touching it, because I had no doubt that it hadn’t been cleaned.
“I’m attending the questioning. You got a problem with that?” Captain Morgan asked briskly.
My mouth kicked up at the corner.
“Stop smiling. I don’t know what you’ve done, but it is a pain in my ass,” Captain Morgan grunted.
I hid the smile but knew deep down that he loved me. Or he wouldn’t be here.
That smile dropped off my face when Detective Bridges began.
“Where were you last night in between one and three in the morning?” Bridges asked without preamble.
I sighed, knowing that I was about to lose my job.
“I was in bed with Katy Roberts,” I answered truthfully.
Detective Bridges looked relieved.
Captain Morgan looked at me like I’d just done the stupidest thing on the planet.
And I might have…or I might’ve thought I had yesterday.
After spending the night with Katy, though, I knew that it wasn’t a mistake.
Also, I knew that I’d be doing the same thing tonight. And the night after that. And the night after that.
As long as she let me, that was.
“And what were y’all doing?” Bridges continued.
I felt my stomach tense.
“Sleeping for the first part of the night,” I answered.
“The first part of the night,” Bridges said. “What about the last part?”
I felt red tinge my cheeks and then heard something rather large bang against the two-way mirror to my right.
“He’s in there, isn’t he?” I said to Bridges.
Bridges made eye contact with me, and we both admitted, albeit silently, that I was about to die.
“Yes,” he answered without lying.
“Answer the question,” Captain Morgan barked.
“I was having sexual relations with Katy,” I answered without thought.
I swallowed, thinking that all my hard work and dreams had just gone up in a cloud of smoke.
“Are you sure that she was with you for the entire night?” he asked.
I frowned. “Positive.”
“How positive?” Bridges pushed.
I held up my previously-handcuffed arm and showed him the bruising that was starting to form.
“We were handcuffed together. So, unless she could drag me out of the apartment while I was sleeping, do whatever you seem to think she’s done, and then get me back into bed, then she was with me. You can see the marks on her own arm to prove it,” I explained.
“Why the handcuffs at all?” Bridges asked, eyes eying the marks on my wrist.
“She sleepwalks. I caught her a couple of days ago in the middle of a muddy field with deer. She found out some traumatic news, which you know about. Apparently, the traumatic news and stress makes her sleepwalking worse. Hence the reason she was sleepwalking. So yesterday, she asked me to stay with her, and I agreed. But I sleep like the dead when I sleep, which I informed her of, and I suggested the cuffs,” I answered, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. “How about you tell me what the hell is going on? I’d like to know what I’m fucking my life up for.”