UP IN FLAMES

“We’re only holding him for the Feds,” he said, his expression pained. “He’s facing a multitude of charges, from racketeering and money laundering to attempted murder.”

Alaric spoke up for the first time. “If that’s the case, then why is Vanessa here?”

“Good question.” The sheriff nodded his approval.

“I asked Mrs. Spencer here for two reasons. One, because Mr. Wuncler here assured me that he wanted to apologize.” He shot Chris a hard look of reproach. “And second, I’m guessing the FBI will need to ask you a few questions.”

“Not without her attorney present,” Alaric quickly responded.

“He’s right,” Vanessa added, “While Christopher never involved me in his business dealings, now that I’ve been made aware he committed several crimes, it’s probably best that I obtain legal counsel.”

Chris burst into laughter, surprising them. He began an insulting slow clap, eyeing her with what appeared to be begrudging approval. “Look at you,” he chortled. “Pretending to be a saint. Why did you get married to Christopher, if not for his money?”

She stared at him as if he’d spoken another language. “Believe what you want, but I didn’t marry Christopher for his money.”

“Right. I’m sure you were madly in love with him. Is that why you married him, huh?”

Alaric pushed to his feet so quickly, he knocked his chair to the floor with a clatter. “You’re a fool. You haven’t got the faintest idea what you’re talking about. You better shut the fvck up. When was the last time you saw Christopher?”

“You’re not FBI, are you?” Chris sneered. “I think I’ll wait for their questions, thank you very much.”

Shaking his head, Alaric turned to the sheriff. “In addition to all the other charges, he needs to be investigated in Christopher’s murder.”

Chris gasped out loud. “I would never!” he exclaimed, his tone indignant. “I adored Christopher. I would never harm a hair on that man’s head. Why would you even think I would kill him?”

“I can think of three million reasons,” Alaric drawled.

“It wasn’t me, I can assure you.” Chris cocked his head and thought for a moment, his expression darkening. “I’ll bet it was that bitch. Christopher was going to cut her out and she didn’t like it.”

Vanessa glanced at Alaric, who shrugged.

“I’m talking about Chloe Davis, you fools.” Chris pointed at the sheriff. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s halfway to Mexico right now. When was the last time anyone checked on her?”

“Why should we believe anything you have to say?” the sheriff drawled.

But as a chill raced up Vanessa’s spine, she knew. What Chris said made sense. Another look at Alaric and she realized he’d reached a similar conclusion.

“Sheriff, would you mind sending a couple of guys to round up Chloe? There’s definitely merit to what Chris here has to say.”

Arms folded, the Sheriff stared. “On what merit? I haven’t seen a single reason why we would suspect Ms. Davis of anything.”

“Can’t you just bring her in for questioning?” Vanessa asked. “I definitely think it’s worth checking out.”

“We’ve already talked to her once.” Clearly hesitant, the Sheriff frowned. “But I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try again.”

“If you can find her,” Chris interjected. “I’m pretty sure she’s in the wind by now.”

Stomach churning, Vanessa wondered if he was right. She remembered Chloe’s weirdly fluctuating attitude, her reluctance to let Vanessa in Christopher’s office and her strange comments regarding Christopher’s will. Add to that the salacious details that had been anonymously leaked to the press…This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

——–

As soon as they got back to the house, Alaric excused himself and started making phone calls. He left a voicemail for Bobby Brown, seriously annoyed that his boss wasn’t immediately reachable. Next, he called the FBI office, asking for the special agent in charge. When the receptionist tried to put him off and take a message, he dug up a name from memory, which got him put through to Mary Pena. Luckily, she remembered him.

Once they got the obligatory chitchat out of the way, he got down to business with his questions. While she wasn’t actively involved in this particular operation, she was able to point him in the right direction. However, he ended up getting the runaround. Frustrated, he called Bobby once more. Again, his call went to voicemail. He left yet another message and debated making the trip to the office himself. Since it was still early afternoon, if he was lucky, he might make it to the FBI offices shortly before closing time.

In the end, he decided to exercise some patience.

Sure enough, the sheriff called Vanessa a couple of hours later with bad news. Chloe had disappeared. When the sheriff’s deputies had gone by to round her up, they’d found an empty apartment and no trace she’d ever worked in Christopher’s downtown office.

After relaying the news to Alaric, Vanessa withdrew, saying she needed time to think. He nodded, keeping his distance, but staying close just in case. She seemed beside herself. Pacing the hallway from the front door to the kitchen, she kept shaking her head and muttering that she should have seen this coming.

Finally, Alaric stopped her. “Even if you’d known, what could you have done?”

“I don’t know.” But she finally stopped moving.

“It’s just that she was in my house and I shared meals with her. To think she might have done something like this…”

He risked touching her shoulder, a quick, gentle squeeze. “They’ll find her. My understanding is that there are multiple agencies involved now. Not just us now, but the FBI too.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Come on.” Taking her arm, he steered her toward the kitchen. “Let me get you something to drink and we can sit down and brainstorm.”

She slowly nodded. “I’d like that.”

Once she’d taken a seat at the table, he poured them both a cup of coffee and fixed hers the way she liked it-one cream and two sugars. “I just can’t believe Christopher trusted her. I did too. Heck, even his parents did.

If what Chris said is true and she actually did this, it will be a betrayal of the worst kind.”

“Agreed.” Pulling out the chair across from her, he took a sip of his coffee. He allowed himself to feel a moment of contentment before focusing back on the reality of his situation. “However, we don’t have any proof. Only his word. To be honest, I don’t really trust him.”