R oyce pushed the Matisses’ doorbell and rocked back on his heels. “I’ve never had a big dénouement in a mansion before. It makes me feel like a fictional detective, like Hercule Poirot.” He ran his fingers over the smooth skin above his upper lip. “Do you think I’d look good with a mustache?”
“Ew. No,” Diego said with an offensive cringe.
“Okay. You don’t have to be cruel. A simple no would suffice.”
Diego shook his head. “And what’s a dénouement?”
Had Royce butchered the French pronunciation as poorly as Diego? “You’re so uncouth.” He repeated it the way Sawyer said, or at least tried.
“And you think you say that any better? What the fuck ever, Masterpiece Theater,” Diego quipped. “Is the dénouement the big reveal at the end of murder mystery movies and books?”
“Yep.” Royce jammed his finger against the doorbell button again and scowled. Had Yvonne said something that tipped off Julia and Alyssa? Nah. The security guard said neither woman had left the premises. They could’ve hired a helicopter to pick them up, but that would’ve likely gotten back to the security team. He rang the doorbell again for good measure. They would regret keeping him waiting.
“I say it was Miss Julia, in the kitchen, with the tainted smoothie,” Diego said.
The large wooden double doors flew open before Royce could respond. Yvonne stared at them with wide eyes. “C-c-can I help you?”
“We have arrest warrants for Alyssa and Julia Matisse,” Royce told her. “Can you please take us to them?”
Yvonne’s mouth dropped open, and she blinked several times before she pulled herself together and stepped aside for them to enter.
“This is the first time we’ve met,” Royce whispered to her as he stepped inside the house. He turned and gave a thumbs-up to the patrol car that waited in front of the house to provide additional transportation.
“They’re in the salon,” Yvonne said. “Do you know the way?”
“We do. Thank you.”
They entered the sitting room as quietly as they could, more to observe what was going on than to catch them admitting something they wouldn’t want the police to hear. Richard Todd and Alyssa sat close together on the velvet settee. Some might say too close for a grieving widow, but he knew people dealt with loss in various and sometimes mysterious ways. Alyssa’s hand rested just above Richard’s knee, and he covered it with his own. There was nothing enigmatic about the expression on the man’s face. He was deeply in love with the woman sitting beside him.
Julia sat motionless across from them in the chair Royce had used during their first interview. Her wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she wore a frilly black dress that made her skin look sickly pale. She’d put on a vibrant shade of lipstick and dotted pink blush on her fair cheeks in nearly perfect circles. Julia looked like a life-sized Victorian porcelain doll that had been cast aside and forgotten while the others conversed quietly in the room.
Royce cleared his throat to announce their presence. Julia was the first to react, leaping to her bare feet so fast that her long skirt swished around her ankles. Anger flushed her skin until the rest of her face matched her blush. “What are you doing here?” Julia’s voice crackled with the same rage flashing in her eyes. She was very much alive now.
“It’s nine o’clock on Tuesday morning,” Royce replied. “We had an appointment. Did you forget?” He held up his phone, pressed a button, and added, “I’m going to record this conversation.” He rattled off the date, time, and attendees.
Richard and Alyssa rose to their feet, albeit much slower and without an outward show of any emotion.
“Sergeant,” Richard said, “I believe Alyssa and Julia explicitly said they would not speak to you without a warrant.”
“Yes, sir, they did,” Royce said, pulling the warrants from his back pocket and holding them up for him to see.
Julia jerked her head in Richard’s direction and took two aggressive steps toward him before pulling herself together. She stopped suddenly, placed a palm against her sternum, and inhaled a deep breath, which she held for several seconds before releasing it. Julia lowered her hand to her side and addressed Richard in a modulated tone. “You said everything would be okay. You promised us.”
The attorney bounced a nervous glance between the Matisse women, Royce, and Diego. “There must be a mistake.”
“No, sir. We’re here to arrest Alyssa Matisse and Julia Matisse for involuntary manslaughter, though DA Babineaux could bring additional charges as the investigation continues.”
“Manslaughter!” Alyssa cried.
“What additional charges?” Julia asked.
“Murder in the first degree,” Diego said. “Right now, we’re going to assume that neither you nor your mother planned to kill Dr. Matisse and acted independently of one another when you put the benzodiazepine in his smoothie and your mother gave him alcohol. If the evidence shows that you acted together, then the district attorney reserves the right to recharge you.”
“What evidence do you even have?” Richard asked. “You mentioned something about fingerprints on glasses. Who cares? Anyone in this house could’ve handled the dishes at any time.”
“We have proof that Julia ground up her mother’s prescription benzodiazepine pills in the spice grinder and mixed them into Dr. Matisse’s green smoothie,” Diego replied. “There was a residue in the grinder cup, the smoothie blender, and the cup Dr. Matisse drank from. The evidence is irrefutable.”
Richard scoffed. “We’ll just see about that.”
“Why is there a warrant for my arrest?” Alyssa asked.
“The pills alone weren’t enough to kill him,” Royce replied. “But they could account for the extreme irritability and agitation you described. Those are just two negative side effects some people experience while taking benzodiazepine. Mixing the pills with the alcohol is what triggered the respiratory and cardiac failure.”
“I didn’t know she drugged him,” Alyssa said. “I thought the scotch would calm him down.”
“Mother!” Julia cried out. “How could you turn on me?”
“You’ll need to convince the DA of that and possibly a jury,” Royce told her.
“Jury?” Alyssa turned to Richard. “I can’t go to jail.”
Richard took both her hands in his. “You won’t, dear. I’ll see to it.”
“What about me?” Julia asked. “Or do I need to get down on my knees and blow you too?”
Alyssa marched across the short distance and slapped her daughter’s face hard enough to rattle her teeth. “Shut your mouth, you ungrateful brat.”
Julia covered her face, and the room hung in suspense for all of five seconds before she launched herself at her mother, fisting both hands in Alyssa’s hair.
“Oh shit,” Diego said, jumping into the melee to pull the women apart. He cuffed Julia and set her in the club chair. Royce tossed his cuffs at Diego, and he secured Alyssa before placing her on the settee. The two women glared at one another, breathing heavily but not speaking. Diego remained between them in case they went for each other again.
“I also have an arrest warrant for obstruction of justice and tampering with evidence for Richard Todd.”
“What?” Richard shouted. “Why me?”
Diego removed his phone, pulled up the audio recording, and pushed Play. The sound of a ringback tone came through the speaker, followed by Julia’s voice.
“Just breathe,” she whispered. “Do what Richard said, and this will work out.” She took one calming breath. “You can do this.” Julia’s breathing suddenly became very choppy, and she started to wail, so when the 911 operator answered, it sounded like Julia was in a genuine panic. They listened as a distraught daughter sniffled and cried her way through the phone call, getting into the pool to check her father for a pulse when the operator instructed her to. She kept up the act until the first responders arrived and the dispatcher disconnected. Silence washed over the room as Richard and Alyssa stared daggers at Julia.
“People don’t realize that the 911 recordings begin as soon as your phone connects, and not just when an operator answers,” Diego said. “Imagine our surprise when we pulled the recording this morning.”
“I can explain,” Richard said.
“Don’t you say a damn word,” Julia snarled.
“Richard, please don’t,” Alyssa implored.
A shocked hush blanketed the room as Royce read everyone their rights, but the pandemonium resumed when he asked if they understood them. The fur wasn’t flying, but accusations were.
“I wish I’d worn a tactical vest with a body cam,” Diego called out.
“Ditto.” The audio recording would have to be sufficient. Royce stuck two fingers in his mouth and released a sharp whistle that brought the fighting to an immediate halt. “Thank you,” he said. “Now, I’m going to start all over again because I need you to verbally acknowledge I’ve read your rights and that you understand them.”
“I want a lawyer!” Alyssa yelled.
“I want a lawyer too, but a different one than hers!” Julia stabbed a finger in her mother’s direction.
“It would be a great conflict of interest otherwise.” Royce pulled a second pair of cuffs from his back pocket and approached the attorney.
“This isn’t a great big conspiracy, Sergeant. You have to believe me,” Richard pleaded.
“I’m not the one you need to convince, sir. Let’s make this as easy as possible. We’ll take the three of you down to the station, book you in, and then you’ll be able to phone your attorneys.”
The older man’s shoulders slumped forward as he accepted his fate. He docilely placed his hands behind his back so Royce could secure them. Diego gently guided Alyssa forward by her upper arms and collected Richard on the way.
“It’s going to be okay,” the attorney whispered to her.
“I believed you the first time, but I can’t anymore.” An icy expression formed on Alyssa’s features, and she froze out his further attempts to speak to her.
Royce approached Julia and noticed her light eyes darting around the room as if judging her chances for escape. “Don’t,” he said tersely as his hand hovered near his Taser. “You’ll only make your situation worse.” Julia narrowed her eyes and studied him intently, as if she could divine his thoughts or willingness to zap her. So he rested his hand on the Taser to prove that he wouldn’t hesitate.
“Fine. I’ll be out in a matter of hours. You’re going to lose your job over this.”
Royce let Julia vent her rage and tuned it out, knowing his phone would record every word.
Two hours later, Royce dusted his hands of the entire ordeal. He stopped by the break room to make a bag of popcorn in the microwave and headed downstairs to Sawyer’s office. His husband sat at his desk with a pair of readers perched on his nose, sipping from the Hot for Teacher mug Royce had bought him after he agreed to instruct the Explorer cadets. Sawyer glanced up, and an enormous smile spread across his face.
“Is that reaction for me or the popcorn?” Royce asked.
“Both.”
Royce stepped into the office and closed the door. He set the treat on the desk and leaned across it to kiss Sawyer firmly on the mouth. His husband chuckled when he pulled back. “What?”
Dark eyes danced with mirth. “Pretty sure our chief was doing a little of that in his office with Beecham before our meeting this morning.”
“No way,” Royce said. “Tell me.”
He munched on popcorn while Sawyer told him about the vibe he’d picked up on before the conversation they had about Alec Bishop. Groaning, Royce said, “I kinda hoped there wouldn’t be any cases that matched so the guy would move on to another city and someone else’s husband.”
Sawyer tilted his head to the side. “You’re not remotely concerned about this guy getting between us, are you?”
Royce considered it for a few seconds too long because Sawyer bounced a popcorn kernel off his head. “I trust you with every fiber of my being. But there’s something about this guy that rubs me the wrong way.”
Sawyer widened his eyes. “Maybe I should be the one who’s worried if he’s rubbing on you in any way.”
“Hardy har har. You know what I mean. It’s that instinct that makes us good cops. I’m not saying the guy doesn’t have good intentions, but there are more than a few ways this ordeal could go sideways.”
Sawyer nodded. “I have reservations too. I trust Mendoza and Rigby to have all our best interests at heart, and I won’t hesitate to step away if necessary.” He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on an upturned palm. “Tell me about your day. Did you make a big arrest?”
“Three of them?”
Sawyer pretended to swoon. “Check you out. What happened?”
“Julia clammed up, but Alyssa and Richard Todd sang like canaries.”
“So what happened?” Sawyer asked.
“According to them, Julia had overheard enough of the conversation between Jean Claude and Richard to know her father was accused of fathering hundreds of kids through his fertility clinic. She didn’t say anything to him about it but quietly seethed with rage. I think she snapped when her father went off on a rampage Saturday morning. She claimed she only wanted to calm him down. She’d seen her mother’s benzodiazepine prescription while snooping in her medicine cabinet and decided they’d do the trick. But he kept bitching, so she kept adding pills, losing track of how many she ground up. The smoothie didn’t help and, in fact, made him more irritable. She gave up and just left the house while her mother was getting ready for the mayor’s party. When Alyssa finished, she suggested Jean Claude drink some scotch and take a swim. She poured him the first drink and left the house without him. Roughly five hours go by, and Jean Claude doesn’t join them, so Julia went home to check on him.
“She freaked out when she found her father in the pool and saw the empty liquor decanter. She called Richard before dialing 911. He left the gathering he’d attended, drove to the mayor’s house, and discreetly pulled Alyssa aside without anyone seeing him. Together, they called Julia back, and they quickly realized what had happened. Richard then instructed her to retrieve the prescription bottle from her mother’s medicine cabinet to make it look like Jean Claude had intentionally overdosed. It would be an easy leap for law enforcement to make, considering the situation. That’s when Richard told us about the conversation he’d had with Jean Claude on Friday afternoon. The doctor denied the allegations, but it was going to be damning to his reputation. A prideful man like him would’ve hated the scrutiny and negative press, making the overdose more believable.” Royce cocked his head to the side. “Richard admitted that he thought their close relationship with the mayor would come in handy, but Barclay supported Rigby’s decision to investigate further. If she’d backed down and taken the evidence at face value, we would’ve probably classified the death as an overdose.”
“Do you believe him?” Sawyer asked.
“I believe he’s telling the truth as far as he knows it. Did Julia intentionally try to kill her father? I can’t say. That will be for DA Babineaux to determine, but I suspect she’ll go with the involuntary manslaughter because that’s the charge she can prove.”
“You did a good job,” Sawyer said.
“Sloppy criminals help.”
Sawyer shook his head. “So humble.”
Royce snorted. “Hardly. I’ll swagger around when the situation merits it.” He helped himself to another handful of popcorn. “Anything exciting happen around here?”
Sawyer’s brown eyes softened, and a serene expression came over his face. Royce only encountered that look when Sawyer slept peacefully or was blissed-out from sex.
“What did you do?”
Sawyer fidgeted with his tie as his lips curved into a sheepish grin. “I called the clinic and talked to Dr. Flores. I just needed…assurances.”
Royce arched a brow. “And did you get them?”
“I did. I haven’t stopped thinking about what our future is going to look like with our daughter.”
“You’re so sure we’re having a girl.”
The smile that lit up Sawyer’s face was like nothing Royce had ever seen before. “I am.”
“I want to hear all the things you imagined.”
Sawyer lowered his hand and waggled his brows. “Let’s try to sneak out of here early so I can show you.”