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The door to the room opened and a plainclothes detective strolled in. He held back rolling his eyes as the man slapped a folder down in front of him. “Well, well, we meet again.”
Grant heaved a sigh and shook his head. “I’m not talking without my attorney.”
“Of course, you aren’t.” The detective plopped into the chair across from him with a grin. “I’m getting used to hearing that out of you.”
“Then why do you keep coming in here when my attorney isn’t present?”
“Figured we could just talk. Shoot the breeze. You’re here so much, I’d like to get to know you better.”
Grant offered him an unimpressed glance. He really detested how cops tried to get anything they could use against him. He clasped one hand over his closed fist and rested his forehead against them. “I don’t really need any more friends, thanks.”
“Really? That’s surprising. Because it doesn’t seem like you have too many friends at all. The people around you keep dropping off or getting into trouble.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“How about the truth? Why do bad things keep happening in your vicinity?”
Grant flexed his jaw, refusing to let the man goad him into an answer. He hoped Mitchell would arrive soon and put an end to this charade. He wanted to share the information with Julia and check on Sierra.
He hadn’t learned much, but the death of Christopher Metcalfe, who had led Julia straight to Lydia had to mean something. Maybe once they talked about it, they could figure out a way to pin this on Lydia and take down at least one member of DG Industries.
“I have nothing to say,” he answered.
“Well, shucks, there goes that topic. Let’s try another. How’s that pretty wife of yours doing? Julia, was it?”
Heat rose as the comment triggered a wave of anger in him. The detective knew bringing up Julia would frustrate him based off of their previous encounters. But he wasn’t willing to give in to the man this time. “She’s doing fine.”
“Really? You know, I’m surprised she’s still with you. With all this turmoil around you all the time, you’d think a sweet girl like that would have run for the hills by now.”
Grant tried to smirk, though the fact that he wondered the exact same thing made it difficult. He would have loved to slap the man down by telling him they were in love, but he feared that was one-sided.
“Maybe it’s because she’s afraid to leave. You don’t have a very nice reputation. Maybe you like to slap her around a little.”
He gritted his teeth as he forced himself to stay seated rather than lunge across the table and strangle the man. “I have never laid a hand on Julia.”
“Hmm, that’s surprising. You seem to have a temper.”
“Only when people accuse me of things I don’t do.”
“Has Julia ever accused you of things you haven’t done?”
“No,” Grant countered, “my wife believes in me.”
“Oh, right.” The cop bobbed his head up and down. “I remember now. She said that at one of those press conferences you held when you were running for Senate. The ones where all your terrible behavior was put on display. That couldn’t have been easy for her. Or you.”
“It wasn’t. But I can admit when I’m wrong. And I was wrong then.”
“But little Julia stood by you. That’s sweet. I wonder when it’ll finally get to be too much. Maybe after your second murder charge?”
Grant’s nostrils flared as he sighed. The door opened again before he had to formulate a response and Mitchell strode inside. “I’d like a moment with my client.”
“Sure thing,” the cop said as he grabbed the folder and rose. “We’ll be back.”
“Can’t wait,” Grant said as he headed for the door. He spun when he reached it, winking and clicking his tongue.
“We really, really need to stop meeting like this, Grant.” Mitchell set his polished briefcase down on the table and sank into the chair across from him.
“I know, Mitchell, but this time, I have proof that I didn’t do this.”
