Page 29 of The Wedding Party

“I never said I was above the law.”

“Are you?”

“Of course not.”

“And Oliver?”

“Are you questioning my dead brother’s character?”

“I’m just trying to understand who I’m dealing with.”

Her eyes cut as they meet mine. “I don’t like the tone of this conversation.”

“I’m simply trying to give you what you want: closure. That is what you want, correct?”

“I think you’re a bully like your father.”

Usually, I reject any comparison to my father. I don’t today. “He’s not a bully,” I say instead. “He’s more a convincing negotiator.” I leave out the part that usually involves my father’s fist or his big-ass Smith & Wesson—officially named “the Governor,” though some might think it better named “the Intimidator.” Or maybe that is just my father.

“I don’t know what that means.” She hugs herself in a defensive move.

“Don’t you?” I challenge.

“I don’t like games, Agent Castle.” She drops her arms and waves me forward. “Charge her and stop harassing me.”

“Conducting an investigation is not harassment,” I state, not even a little intimidated. After all, she’s not holding the Governor, and piles of cash have never really struck fear in my heart. “It’s, in fact,” I continue, “the only way I can charge Carrie. I have to show the DA that I’ve done a complete and thorough investigation.”

“Fine,” she says tightly, leaning on the windowsill, hands pressed to either side of her. “What do you need from me?”

“Hypothetically,” I say, “you could have reacted to the impossibility of Carrie being the killer.” She starts to open her mouth and I hold up a hand. “But instead,” I continue when she bites back her reply, “you responded to the certainty of her as the killer. Why? And don’t tell me she was covered in blood. Go beyond that, to your core feelings about Carrie.”

“There were things about her that bothered me.”

“Okay,” I accept, “so let’s explore that, but start from the beginning. When did you meet Carrie?”

“Two years ago, but supposedly they’d been dating a year at that point.” Her voice lifts again. “Why would my brother hide his girlfriend of a year from me or our parents?”

“Did he introduce prior girlfriends?” I ask.

“No,” she concedes, “but no one ever lasted with Oliver before her. And she was the woman he proposed to.”

“Why do you think he did that?”

“Why did he pick her to propose to or why didn’t anyone last?”

“Both,” I say.

“I don’t know in either case, but neither of them talked about her family. They’re in Houston. That’s all we know.”

Natalie’s shoulders have relaxed slightly, as if talking about Carrie rather than herself is a more comfortable place.

“That’s it?” I press. “Nothing more?”

“Her father is some sort of medical administrator for hospitals, and her mother’s a nurse.”

“She followed in their steps, then.”

“It would appear,” she agrees, because we’re all about assumptions right now, it seems.