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“Okay,” Conrad says, already engrossed in the show, the excitement of the police officer now forgotten.
I made the mistake of leaving my computer open when I went to answer the door. And I’m more than a little irritated to find Rourke seated in my abandoned chair, scrolling through my document.
“That’s none of your business.” I snap the laptop shut and snatch it away from him.
“That’s some pretty steamy stuff. Are you a writer?” he asks, with a note of sarcasm in his tone.
“Something like that.” I don’t tell him my romance is clean compared to a lot of other authors. Hugging my computer to my chest, I sit down in the chair between the two men. “I’m in the middle of something. Can we just get this over with?”
“Fine. As I mentioned, we’re here about Will Darby. What can you tell us about your relationship?”
I shrug. “There’s not much to tell.”
Rourke narrows his dark eyes. “We can sit here all night while I ask you a litany of questions. But you’ll get rid of us a lot sooner by telling us what we want to know.”
“How can I do that when I have no idea what you want to know?” I’m intentionally being difficult. But he’s right. I do want to get rid of them.
Rourke falls back in his chair. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? When did you meet Will Darby?”
I set the laptop on the table and fold my hands on top. “At Coastal Hardware a few days after Labor Day.”
Rourke exchanges a look with Officer Porter. “According to our sources, you and Will were seeing each other at the time of his wife’s death.”
“Well, your sources are wrong,” I say in a defiant tone. “I know when I met Will.”
“Let’s assume for a minute that our information is incorrect. What happened at this meet-cute in the hardware store?”
I stand abruptly. “I resent your innuendo, Detective. I’ve done nothing wrong. And neither has Will. Our children are in the same class at school. They became friends. When I went to pick up my son from a playdate with Will’s daughter one Friday afternoon, Will and his sister asked me to go on a boat ride. I ended up staying for dinner. Will invited my son and me for a cookout the following weekend, and Will asked me on a date a couple of Saturdays after that. Because the restaurant was crowded, we picked up a few items at Fancy Pantry and had a picnic on the beach. We’ve kissed a few times, but we haven’t had sex. And now we’ve broken up. End of story.”
Rourke stands to face me, and following his lead, Porter scrambles to his feet. “When did you break up?”
“Yesterday.” My throat thickens, and I wait for my tears to pass before continuing. “We were never really together, so breakup is not the right word. Will just lost his wife, and I just got divorced. We were friends, comforting each other through difficult times. I don’t want to be a distraction for Will with all he has going on right now.”
Rourke appears unmoved by my sentiment. “Where did you move here from, Miss Becker? And why Water’s Edge? It’s not exactly a hot spot.”
“You’re not the first person to say that to me, Detective. I moved here from Denver. After an unpleasant divorce, I needed a fresh start. I was looking for a quiet place on the coast. Water’s Edge seemed to fit the bill. It appears I was wrong.”
Rourke looks from me through the window at Conrad who has fallen asleep on the sofa. “I assume you don’t share custody with the kid’s father?”
I hold my chin high. “I don’t see how my marriage relates to this situation.”
“I’m interested in the timing of your divorce. If you and Will were having an affair when his wife died, and the two of you conspired to kill her, you’re an accessory to murder.”
The bottom falls out of my stomach as I realize I’m being framed. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Not according to our sources,” Rourke says.
“And who are these sources, Detective?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Whoever these people are, they are lying to you. When you figure that out, I’ll expect an apology.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” He extends his hand to me. “I need to see your driver’s license.”
“What for?” I ask in a defiant tone.
His beady eyes pin me against the side of the house. “So I can run a background check, to verify your story.”
