The detective’s smile was devoid of humor. “Well, Mr. Kirk is lucky to have a woman like you standing by him at a time like this.”
I stiffened. I could tell by his tone that he was already convinced of Blane’s guilt and pitied a woman who would stand by a murderer.
The detective focused again on Blane. “So let’s just go through the events of that night one more time,” he said.
I turned to Blane and our eyes caught. His mask was firmly in place and I couldn’t read what he was thinking or feeling. I could only feel the pressure of his hand gripping mine.
Blane cleared his throat before answering. “Kandi had called me, wanted me to come by. Said she wanted to talk to me. I arrived around 9:00 P.M.”
“And you didn’t mind him going to see her?” the detective asked me.
“Kandi is… was… a longtime family friend,” I said impassively. “No, I didn’t mind.”
“What did you and she talk about?” he asked Blane.
“Our relationship, such as it was. She’d been drinking and was… highly emotional.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“Kandi was angry one moment, crying the next.”
“What was she angry about?”
“That’s speculative,” Charlotte interjected.
“This is an informal questioning, Counselor,” the detective snapped. “Not a court of law.”
“It’s okay,” Blane murmured to Charlotte.
“She was angry about us,” Blane answered. “She didn’t feel like we were going anywhere. She said I was just using her.”
“Weren’t you? After all, it wasn’t as if you were planning to marry her, was it?” The detective sneered in contempt.
“That’s neither here nor there, is it, Detective?” Blane avoided the question.
“Did you have sex that night?”
“No.”
It looked like I wasn’t the only one lying to the police today.
“Did anyone see you arrive at her home?”
“A neighbor was walking their dog when I got there.”
“Anyone see you leave?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
The detective wrote that down. “Then what happened?”
Blane sighed. “That’s all. Kandi’s temper tantrums weren’t an unusual occurrence. I told her we’d talk about it when she calmed down and I left.”
“And what time was that?”
“A little after ten.”
“Did you go anywhere after that?”
“No, I came straight home.”
“And you can verify that, Miss Turner?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Kirk, you’re trained in many forms of hand-to-hand combat, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“Ever strangle someone before?”
“No.”
“Ever kill someone with your bare hands?”
It took a moment for Blane to answer, and when he did, his voice was cold. “I spent five years in the Navy deployed in Afghanistan and Iraq. Yes, I’ve killed without a weapon.”
The detective turned to me again. “Have you and Mr. Kirk ever argued?”
“Of course we have,” I said stiffly.
“Has he ever hit you or injured you in any way?”
I had a flash, my memory conjuring the time Blane had smashed his fist into my jaw when he’d been having a nightmare and I’d tried to wake him. “No,” I said. “Absolutely not.” But I could tell he’d noticed my hesitation and I wanted to kick myself.
“If you don’t mind me saying so, Miss Turner,” he said, motioning to my face, “it looks like you’ve had an accident recently.”
The bruises where David had hit me had faded and I’d used makeup to cover the yellowing spots, but apparently the detective could still see them.
I smiled tightly. “I’m afraid I was clumsy.”
“It occurs to me,” the detective said, sitting back in his chair and directing his attention to Blane, “that having a governor who casually cheats on his fiancée wouldn’t be something most people would appreciate. Did Kandi threaten you, Mr. Kirk? Did she say she was going to go public with your affair and that’s why you killed her?”
“Don’t answer that,” Charlotte ordered. “Detective, you’re out of line.”
He smiled as he put his notepad into the pocket of his jacket. “It was just speculation, Ms. Page.” He stood, as did the other detective. “We’d like a DNA sample as soon as possible.”
“You’ll need a court order,” Charlotte said. “Mr. Kirk has already admitted to being present the night of the victim’s death.”
“A warrant is public record, you know,” the detective said. “The news media will likely have a field day with that.”
“My client has an alibi for the time of death,” Charlotte replied. “I’d like to see you try to get a warrant.”
Blane got to his feet but remained quiet, letting Charlotte handle it. He kept hold of my hand and I rose as well.
The detectives turned to go, but before they reached the door, the one who’d led the questioning turned. “By the way, it seems that whoever killed Miss Miller also raped her.” He paused, his eyes flicking to mine. “Postmortem.”
Nausea rose like a wave in my throat. My knees threatened to buckle and I clutched Blane’s arm for support. His arm slid around my waist, holding me up as the detectives left the room. I heard the front door open and close.
Charlotte glanced at Blane and me. “I’ll wait outside,” she said, her face carefully blank.
I barely noticed her leaving, my mind busy trying not to imagine the horrible things that someone had done to Kandi. Someone so sadistic I had trouble wrapping my head around it.
Blane coaxed me to him and I let him wrap his arms around me, resting my head against his chest. My hands fisted the fabric of his shirt. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. My anger at being locked in the bedroom had evaporated into sober grief as the reality of what Blane was facing set in.
He could never, ever do something like that. Sleeping with Kandi was one thing, but Blane would never physically harm her, nor was he capable of violating her dead body in such a way.
“Are you all right?” I asked, leaning back so I could look up at him. I couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling. He’d been there with her, argued with her, just a short while before she’d been murdered. What if he’d stayed? Would she still be alive? Those thoughts had to have gone through Blane’s mind a dozen times at least.
Blane was pale under his tan, the lines around his eyes more pronounced than usual. “You see why I didn’t want you around,” he said. “I didn’t want you to hear, to know, any of that. I didn’t want you to lie to them.”
“I know you could never do something like that,” I said. I thought about asking why he’d lied about having sex with her that night but decided not to. He’d wonder how I knew, then I’d have to admit eavesdropping on him and Kade last night.
He looked at me for a moment, then leaned forward, brushing his lips over my cheek before settling his mouth by my ear.
“I’m so sorry, Kat,” he whispered.
I didn’t have to ask to know what he meant.
“We were broken up,” I managed to say, my voice soft as a wave of sorrow washed over me. “Why would I think you wouldn’t be with her, or anyone else, after that?” The words made sense, were logical, but it took a massive amount of will to say them. My heart felt something else entirely, which seemed hugely hypocritical of me, but I felt what I felt.
I thought perhaps I should step back, put some space between us, but Blane had both arms wrapped tightly around me, pressing us close together so I felt every inch of him from chest to knee.
Blane’s face was etched in regret and grief. “God, I wish I could turn back the clock,” he murmured. “So many things I would change.”