Thyme and Trouble by Carly Winter

Author:Carly Winter [Winter, Carly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Westward Publishing

* * *

The porkie-pies are on their way up

* * *

“Here we go,” I sighed.

Detective Gunter and Smith appeared in the doorway. Smith frowned as he glanced from Jordan to Colin. “I thought this was going to be a private conversation,” he said.

Colin stood and stuck out his hand. “Colin Breckshire, the third. It’s lovely to meet you, sir. I’ll be Sam’s legal representation today.”

Smith shot me a glare before taking the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Who’s that?” He pointed at Jordan.

“He’s my assistant,” Colin said.

Arching an eyebrow, I glanced over to Jordan. His face remained passive as he waved.

“Okay.” Smith’s mouth pursed into a fine line. “Let’s get this done. We need to get back to Los Angeles.”

Thank goodness.

“Do you mind if we record the interview?” Gunter asked.

I glanced over to Colin for a final answer. I had nothing to hide, but maybe he wanted me to decline.

“If it’s okay with Sam, then I’m fine with it,” he said.

I nodded as Gunter pulled out his phone. He set it down on the coffee table and said, “For the record, Sam, you’ve given us permission to record.”

The little blinking red dot suddenly made me even more nervous. My hands began to sweat and my heartbeat picked up. “Yes,” I said softly. “It’s fine.”

Was the furnace on the fritz again? The temperature had read seventy-five, but it seemed awfully hot.

Smith smiled and began the interrogation. Or interview. To me, it felt as if I were in front of a firing squad. “As we stated in our first conversation yesterday, we greatly appreciate the thumb drive containing all the information of your husband’s business dealings.”

“You’re welcome,” I mumbled.

“However, you claimed time and time again that you knew nothing about them. So, I must ask: where did you get all the account information and data you sent us if you were in the dark?”

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. I was going to admit to a crime, yet one that not only caught my husband’s murderer, but also provided the information I’d given to the police.

“You had told me to stay out of my husband’s office because it was a crime scene,” I said. “But I didn’t.”

Gunter swore under his breath.

“It doesn’t matter now,” I said. “The house is gone.”

“Please continue,” Smith murmured.

“I wasn’t looking for the files on who my husband stole from. I was looking for information on who killed him, but I had a hunch they went hand-in-hand.”

One of Hollywood’s most important men—namely, my boss—had been the murderer. However, there simply wasn’t any proof.

“But I think it’s best if I start at the beginning,” I said.

“Please do,” Smith urged.

I took a deep breath, hoping my words emerged coherently instead of a jumbled mess. I equated the situation to a final act in this soap opera, the one where I would convince everyone of my innocence and make them all realize I’d done nothing wrong.

Well, nothing I should serve a life sentence for, anyway. Leaving the way I had probably wasn’t the smartest move and may fall on the side of slightly illegal.

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