Breaking Free. Лорет Энн Уайт

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СКАЧАТЬ hall. “He must have some reason to hold you here, Louisa,” she said in a whisper.

      “Impossible!”

      “Then why do you think he brought you in?” she said calmly. “I mean, they already questioned you after the Lochlain fire, and cleared you, didn’t they?”

      Louisa went silent, her eyes suddenly uncertain, and without the habitual steel they were startlingly reminiscent of grandmother Betty’s eyes. And of Megan’s mother’s eyes. An acute sense of love and loss rustled so sharply through Megan that it put a catch of emotion in her throat.

      This irascible grande dame really was her family.

      And a sense of family was something Megan yearned for.

      “I didn’t kill him, Megan.”

      “I know that, Louisa.” “Do you?”

      Conflict twisted through Megan. She wanted to say yes. But in all honesty she knew very little about Louisa.

      For a moment she couldn’t answer.

      “I did not shoot Sam, Megan,” Louisa insisted, eyes narrowing. “I did not set fire to that place. I had nothing to do with the old bugger’s death.” She smoothed back a stray wisp of hair that had escaped her chignon as she spoke, and Megan noticed that her hands were shaking. Louisa’s face also had a strange sheen to it, her skin unusually pale save for two little hot spots forming high along her cheekbones. In spite of her stiff spine and the defiant tilt of her chin, her aunt was unraveling.

      Megan needed to get her out of here soon.

      “Would you like me to get you some water?”

      “Just get me Robert, for mercy’s sake. What are we waiting for?” Her breaths were coming too fast, too shallow. She was perspiring.

      “I’m getting you some water,” Megan insisted, standing up.

      She marched along the passage to where Detective Sergeant Hastings stood talking on his phone, and her whole body instinctively braced, adrenaline beginning to hum in her chest as she approached him.

      But he angled away from her slightly as she neared, lowering his voice as he spoke into his mobile so she wouldn’t hear. “Listen, chook,” he said softly. “I’ll explain when I get home. I’m really busy right now—”

      “My aunt needs water,” Megan demanded, standing square in front of him.

      He glanced up, a flash of irritation in his eyes that shifted quickly into something quite different as he took in the faint damp patches her wet bikini had formed on her dress. He pointed to the water cooler next to a desk on his right, his eyes dark.

      Megan swallowed, cursing the effect his look had on her as she went to get water.

      “We’ll talk when we get home, okay, kiddo?” he said almost inaudibly, the gentleness in his voice catching Megan by surprise. She stilled as she bent over to fill a cup at the cooler, unable to stop herself from listening in on his phone conversation.

      “There’ll be other parties—no, listen—” He hesitated. “Sweetheart, wait—”

      He swore suddenly, and flipped his phone shut, eyes narrowing as he saw Megan watching him.

      “Your daughter?” she asked, standing up, cup of water in hand.

      He shoved his mobile back into his gun belt, his eyes flat, inscrutable. “Shall we proceed with the interview now?”

      But Megan held her ground. “You’re a dad, aren’t you? A family man. Can you not find it within yourself to show my aunt some compassion? She’s eighty, for goodness’ sakes.”

      “She’s also rich. Is that why you’re here out of the blue, Ms. Stafford? Because she’s pushing the wrong side of eighty and has amassed a small fortune?”

      Her eyes narrowed sharply. “Damn you,” she whispered. “I’m worried about my aunt’s welfare, not her money, and if you don’t charge her immediately, I insist you let her go.”

      He held out his hand, showing her the way. “Let’s get this over then.”

      But as they entered the room, Louisa stood up shakily, pressing her hand against her sternum as she tried to brace herself against the table. Her face was ashen, her skin damp.

      “This…this is ridiculous,” she said, her voice coming out in a rasp. “This cannot be happening. I need…to leave—” She tried to walk, wobbled, and gripped the back of her chair to steady herself.

      Megan rushed forward, taking her by the arm. “Louisa, please sit—”

      “Where’s Robert?” she said hoarsely, panic straining her features. “I…I won’t go through this. I will not be subjected to this. I…refuse to do this without Robert. He wouldn’t let this happen. He would not let it get this far.”

      Hot tension whipped through Megan. She shot a look at Hastings as she helped Louisa back down into the chair. “I’m not sure counsel of her choice is going to make it here in time. Could…could you do this tomorrow? Louisa needs air. This room is too hot.”

      “You said you were her lawyer.”

      “A lawyer. Not her lawyer. Besides, I’m not a criminal one.”

      That sandy brow of his crooked up again.

      It fuelled her anger. “I’m a corporate lawyer for an art gallery cooperative in Sydney,” Megan snapped. She was furious she was even explaining herself to this stubborn hunk of a policeman. “And I find your attitude disrespectful. My aunt is an esteemed member of this community. She deserves better treatment than this—”

      “She deserves equal treatment, Ms. Stafford.”

      Megan wavered slightly at the veiled menace in his tone. “She does have a right to counsel of her choice before you question her. And she’s not well—”

      “She has no such right, Ms. Stafford.”

      “But you do allow it—”

      “We’re running out of time.” He depressed a button to start recording the interview. “Now if you’ll please calm down and take a seat, I’d like to advise Miss Fairchild that she is entitled to refrain from answering my questions, and that anything she does say can be used in a court of law. Miss Fairchild.” His eyes focused on Louisa, a muscle pulsing along his jaw. “Can you explain how your Smith & Wesson .38 came to be found in a melted fertilizer drum near the body of Sam Whittleson?”

      “What?” Megan slowly took a seat, staring at the cop. “That’s not possible,” she whispered.

      His laser-blue eyes turned on her. “It’s a fact.”

      Megan shot an inquiring look at her great-aunt. “Louisa?”

      “Someone…must have stolen it,” Louisa said, pressing her hand harder against her upper abdomen, her breathing shallow.

      Desperation СКАЧАТЬ