Page 27 of Creole Kingpin
My shoulders go back, and I lift my chin. “I have nothing further to say to you, sir.”
His gaze cuts to my door. “I need to search your condo.”
“AndIneed a spa day, but we don’t always get what we need.”
Cavender bristles. “You’re refusing to cooperate with an ongoing murder investigation now.”
At this, I throw back my head and let out a burst of laughter that evaporates just as quickly as I stare daggers at him. “You know as well as I do that you don’t have probable cause, and no judge is going to give you a warrant. Yes, I live in this building. No, I wasn’t here last night. I don’t have any idea what the hell you’re investigating, nor do I want to know. Now, unless you magically produce a warrant in the next fifteen seconds, I’d like you to leave me alone before I have to report you for police harassment. Actually, if you could show me your badge again, I’d like to write that number down for my records.”
He ignores my request for the badge number and continues his questioning. “Where were you last night?”
My smile is as big as my aversion to nosy, meddling law enforcement. “None of your damn business.”
“So you don’t have an alibi.”
I tilt my head to the side and stare at him. “You think you know everything about me already. DoyouthinkI was alone last night?”
“All you have to do is give me a name, and I’ll leave you alone.”
When I perch my hand on my hip reflexively, forgetting about my wound and stitches, it takes everything I have not to wince. “I’m afraid that’s too damn bad. I pride myself on having excellent discretion, and that means I don’t share the names of mycompanions.”
His whistling nostrils flare again, and I don’t even want to know what the pervert is probably thinking right now. Perhaps he’s trying to imagine what it would be like to be one of those companions.
Ew. Fucking gross. Not even if I were broke and starving.
“I’ll be watching you, Ms. Maison. If there’s a single shred of evidence that connects you to this crime, then you’re going down. Mark my words.”
I release a long breath and shake my head. “If only cops would investigate crimes and figure out who did it before they go around accusing people of committing them.”
He backs away, his gaze steely. “That only applies toinnocentpeople, madam.”
With that dig, he backs away and returns to hammering on my neighbor’s door.
Well, fuck.That didn’t exactly go well.
* * *
Two hours later, I poke my head out of the condo and check the hallway. Detective Douchebag is gone, thankfully, but I have a feeling I haven’t seen the last of him.
After a quick scan of the hall, I roll two giant suitcases through the doorway and lock up. The girls will be coming over later to take the rest of the boxes, and the furniture will be moved to Desiree’s house to replace some of her old stuff.
I’m starting fresh in my new place, and I’m not coming back here again. Not fucking ever.
This building has bad juju, and my new life doesn’t have room for any of that.
Thankfully, I don’t see a soul as I wheel out my suitcases, and those fabulously malfunctioning cameras won’t catch me leaving this time either.
I can’t believe I didn’t think about cameras last night.God.What a fucking nightmare that could have been.
Although, at least then I would have had a clear-cut case of self-defense. No way anyone could argue that the man charging into the elevator to stab me could have beenmyfault. Then again, given the attitude of Detective Cavender, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. I probably would have been in cuffs for not calling the cops myself and reporting the incident.
Well, old habits die hard, and the day I call the cops to report I stabbed someone is the day I leave this town and never look back. I load the suitcases into the back seat of the Honda and drive away, with part of me wishing I could just point my car toward the highway and do exactly that—drive away and leave it all behind.
But I love my new place. It’s going to be a fresh start. No, really, it will be.
After all the time and money I’ve spent on the house in the Quarter, I don’t have any left to skip town and live a lavish lifestyle on the beach. Not in a hurry, anyway. I’d have to liquidate, and that would take at least a month or longer.
But what if the attack really wasn’t random?Ho-It-All asks, chiming in.
