Page 41 of One Dark Kiss (Grimm Bargains #2)

THIRTY-SIX

Alexei

I sit at Rosalie s dining table first thing in the morning with a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.

We immediately returned to California after exchanging our vows, and I had all night with her.

There s no doubt we consummated the marriage—four times.

I like that my girl is a screamer, and she deserves an exotic honeymoon. After I get my business in order.

Right now, I flank one side of her while Joseph Cage quite unfortunately flanks the other side.

We face Detective Battlement and his partner, a young woman by the name of Shelly Jones.

She is husky with pretty green eyes, long curly dark hair, and light-brown skin.

She dutifully takes notes as Battlement questions Rosalie.

Battlement crosses his arms. Mr. Sokolov, you re not needed here. You should leave.

Actually, he can stay, Rosalie says. This is an informal interview that I have agreed to, and I set the parameters, Detective.

Pride fills me. She sounds tough even though she looks rather delicate in a pink suit.

This one has another pencil skirt, and I m finding myself rather addicted to them.

Her blouse is a flowery one with all sorts of different colors, and the suit jacket is buttoned even though she s sitting.

Her hair is up, her eyes are clear, and if anything, she looks a little pissed off.

I, on the other hand, am feeling quite relaxed. I m not going anywhere, Detective.

His gaze flicks to me. He s a beefy man and could probably take several punches before he falls.

Although I m relaxed and present, since Hendrix is dead, I need to go and consolidate power.

My phone keeps vibrating silently in my pocket, and I m spending time here that I don t have.

No doubt Lillian is making a move to consolidate without Hendrix, and I won t be surprised if a couple of the higher up lieutenants decide to try for a takeover.

Most of them don t know that the power really lies in the ability to physically charge the amethyst crystals that run the servers and just think that the company is a normal Bratva-run organization.

I need to disabuse them of the idea that they could prosper without me.

Yet I won t leave until the detective does.

Movement sounds from the kitchen, and I have no doubt that one, if not several, of Rosalie s boarders are listening, unapologetically, at the door.

Garik is covering the front of the house.

There really is no privacy around here, and I find that is something I ll probably change.

Oh, I ll let her keep her boarders, but there s going to have to be some sort of distance to keep them safe, if for nothing else.

Battlement reaches for an old, battered notebook that he tosses on the table and flips open. Where were you Sunday night?

I was still in the infirmary, I note.

I m not talking to you, Battlement says. You re not a suspect. We know exactly where you were. You, however, are a suspect. He s facing Rosalie now. I find it interesting that you start dating Mr. Sokolov here and then all of a sudden, both his brother and his ex-lover end up dead.

She blinks. I find it rather inconvenient, Detective.

He stares at her, and now both of the detectives are taking notes. Where were you Sunday night?

I was here at home, she says. I stayed Saturday night in the infirmary with Mr. Sokolov, and then I came home Sunday, worked around the house, and stayed the night here before attending the hearing yesterday morning.

Was anyone else in your bedroom? he asks.

Irritation clacks through me. Considering I was in the infirmary, I would have to answer no to that question.

This time, he doesn t look at me. Again, I m not talking to you, Sokolov. Miss Mooncrest.

No, Detective, she says. Nobody was in my bedroom but me.

The door opens from the kitchen, and Percy pokes his head in. I was here. I can vouch for her.

Me too, come a chorus of voices from behind him.

Detective Battlement rolls his eyes. Shut the door and leave us be.

I can t help it. Amusement dances through me. Rosalie has seven alibis if she needs them. Hell, I can create more. I do wonder who killed Blythe, though.

Have you met Blythe Fairfax? the detective asks.

Yes, Rosalie says. She and Jaqueline Lion, my boss, met with me in my office last week.

His bushy eyebrows rise. What about?

That s privileged, she says instantly.

His stare intensifies. Do you represent Mrs. Fairfax?

That also is privileged, Rosalie says.

This is a crime, Miss Mooncrest. First-degree murder. You might want to work with me.

Joseph Cage sits forward finally and remembers he s a lawyer, apparently. My client is not going to violate attorney-client privilege, Detective. But I will tell you that Miss Mooncrest personally does not, and has never, represented Mrs. Fairfax.

Then why was Mrs. Fairfax in your office? he asks me.

Rosalie shakes her head. Privilege.

I concur, Joseph Cage says.

So far, the guy is useless. I don t know why he s here, although it s probably smart to have a lawyer, but Rosalie is more intelligent than Cage.

Plus, he patted her on the knee when he sat down, and I almost took off his hand.

Only the presence of the detective kept me from shredding him.

Of course, there s always later in the day.

Cage leans forward. How did Mrs. Fairfax die? The news media has reported her death, but that s about it.

Blunt force trauma to the head, the detective says quietly, still staring at Rosalie. Have you been in contact with Mrs. Fairfax other than the time she was in your office for a reason you will not discuss?

Now he sounds sarcastic. I focus on him. I need to consolidate the organization and get our two computer experts under my command. Now that Hendrix is dead, it might be a war of power between Lillian and me. She doesn t stand a chance, however. I ll have to do a deeper dive on this detective.

He looks around. You ever beat anybody to death, Rosalie?

I stiffen. I preferred it when he called her Miss Mooncrest.

No, she says. Of course not. Now, I ve told you where I was, established that I have an alibi— she looks over her shoulder at the closed doorway— and that s pretty much it. I do not know anything about Mrs. Fairfax s death.

Battlement shifts his muscled bulk It s my understanding that your boy here was pretty hot and heavy with Mrs. Fairfax. In fact, there s a rumor he killed for her. You ve heard the gossip, right?

I believe that lie was debunked when the video of his half brother planting evidence flew across the internet, she says calmly.

Ah, Detective Battlement says. You mean the half brother that is now dead after being stabbed with your letter opener?

Rosalie closes her lips. Good.

Cage leans forward. Do you have any other questions, Detective? Because this is getting tiresome. My client did not kill Blythe Fairfax. Any alleged relationship between Mr. Sokolov and Mrs. Fairfax happened seven years ago, and they haven t been in contact since.

That s not necessarily true, is it? The detective winks at me.

To her credit, Rosalie doesn t move, although I can feel uncertainty from her. It s interesting how in tune I am to her moods.

I sigh. My first day out when I went to the Amethyst, Mrs. Fairfax came in.

What did she want? Battlement asks.

I keep my tone level. She wanted to know if we could rekindle our romance. Also, she asked if I killed her husband. I said no on both accounts. I put an arm around Rosalie because I m done with not touching her. It s been too long since I have.

Battlement watches my movements. I see. Any other times?

No, I say. I haven t seen the woman since. Which is the truth.

Hmm, he says, looking down at his notebook. We do have her on camera at the Amethyst that day. Do you think Miss Mooncrest would kill for you?

I hope I never have to find out, I say honestly.

The detective stares at my arm stretched around her shoulders. When did you two start to date?

My client s not answering any personal questions, Joseph Cage interjects immediately.

Battlement dismisses him with a flick of his eyes. Get out in front of this now, Rosalie. You seem like a decent person who got caught up in a world you don t understand. Let me help you.

She tilts her head. You want to help me, Detective? How sweet.

If she used that tone with me, I d spank her ass. But right now, I love the sassy side of her. I don t hide my smile. The detective flips open a file folder and pulls out a photograph to place on the table. It shows Rosalie s damaged car from the other day.

Apparently, Mrs. Fairfax beat up your vehicle, Rosalie, Battlement says. She had several pictures taken while she damaged your car. I find it odd that you didn t notify the police about the vandalism. Perhaps you wanted to take care of matters yourself?

My client is not answering that question, Cage says.

Good. I don t like this at all.

Battlement pulls out another picture. This one is of a harshly beaten Blythe Fairfax, her face a bloody mess. She kind of looks like your car.

This is not necessary. Cage pushes it back.

I think it is, Detective Battlement says. This is what you did. You may have been in a rage. You may be able to plead some sort of temporary insanity. I don t know. But you do need to get out in front of this right now, Rosalie. Trust me.

Warning ticks through me, and I don t know why. The detective is holding something back.

Rosalie s eyes widen as she stares at the picture. The murder was brutal. Blythe is beaten, and blood splatters across what looks like a white dress. She s lying on a sidewalk. Broken.

I don t care about her but wouldn t wish a beating like that on any woman. The fact that somebody killed her to frame Rosie or me keeps me cold and centered. Where did Blythe die?

I m not answering your questions, the detective says. Rosalie, let me help you.

I didn t kill Mrs. Fairfax, Rosalie bursts out.

The detective sighs and pulls out another picture. Do you recognize this paperweight?

Holy fuck, I do. It s the silver one of an apple that is usually on Rosalie s desk.

Joseph Cage must recognize it as well because he slaps the table. We re finished with this interview, Detective. Either arrest my client or leave this house.

The detective slowly tucks everything back into his file folder and pushes away from the table, standing.

His partner does as well. I m not ready to make an arrest. Still have a couple avenues to pursue.

He looks deadly serious at Rosalie. However, I m going to do so very soon.

I suggest you and your attorney come up with a good plan for you to voluntarily surrender at the police department.

He walks away and pauses by the doorway.

I do like you, Rosalie. I think you re smart, and I think you still have a future.

Maybe not in law. But you re caught up in a world you just don t understand.

Let me help you. He finally cuts a look at me.

Mr. Sokolov, I would like to interview you at your earliest convenience.

I flash him a smile that I hope reads as a warning. Gee, that d be fun, Detective, but the last person in the world I want to discuss with you is my wife.