“Cove, your father’s on his way. He said not to answer any more questions until you have a lawyer present, even if it means you’ll be arrested.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Go upstairs and lock up, meet me at the station.”
“This is bullshit!” she shouts again. “If Ivy has anything to do with...”
“Sophia!” I yell. “Keep your mouth shut and go inside.”
“Ivy Moore?” the detective questions.
“No, Ivy Less. How many Ivy’s do you know?” my wife is letting her bitch out, and this is the point she usually...
“I’m gonna fucking kill that woman if she had anything to do with this.”
Yeah, the point when she makes a dumbass mistake. “Sophia, now!” I’m trying my best to keep calm, especially in front of the detectives, considering what I’m being accused of, but goddammit, she shouldn’t give them any ammunition either. I stare her down until she heads inside and then turn to Matthew. “I’ll comply. We can go to the station and you can ask me questions with my lawyer present. If you feel that’s not cooperating, and it’s grounds for an arrest, so be it.” I hold my hands out and wait for the cuffs.
CHAPTER FIVE
At least they got me a glass of water so I can run my finger around the rim. It gives me something to do while our family lawyer is getting his shit together. I hate police stations, particularly this one. I’m familiar with every crack in the wall, how many holes are in each square ceiling tile, and the average number of people in and out of the main door each day. I’ve been in these interrogation rooms for months, talking about Sophia’s father and his criminal acts, with this same lawyer by my side for every conversation, and now I’m being accused of something just as horrific... by Ivy Moore. I must be jinxed. That’s it, there’s a fucking curse on me.
“Cove,” my lawyer puts his pen down and places his notes in his briefcase. I run my fingers through my hair and wait for some solid advice from a man who’s been doing this for decades. His finely trimmed gray hair and thousand-dollar suit convey the presence of a renowned, experienced, professional to anyone who enters the room, and I’m glad he’s by my side.
“You okay?” he asks.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“Stay calm. I’ll take care of this, after what you’ve told me it sounds like the girl’s upset that you fired her.”
“Or I’m being set up.”
“Cove, I’m serious. I want you to take a few deep breaths and calm down.”
I place my hands on my head and exhale. He’s right. I’m furious... and shitting bricks. Damn it, I don’t want to be entangled in this and go through the same thing my father went through years ago. “Is she okay? She’s not badly injured, is she? I feel awful that this happened to her, even though she’s saying I did it.”
He straightens his tie then checks his cell. “Hang in there alright? Your parents and Sophia are out front and everything’s going to be okay. A rape kit was given at the hospital and I’ve been told there was evidence left behind, but that’s all I know. You haven’t been arrested yet, and if you’re innocent, we can easily clear this up after you answer a few questions and take a DNA test.”
“What do you mean, if I’m innocent? And anyway, this station already did a DNA test on me months ago... in fact, they did two, remember? The swab and the blood test. Do they need another? Can’t they just use what they already have? I don’t want to fucking wait forever for the results.”
“I’ll talk to them about it. I’m sure it’s still in their databank,” he checks his phone again, always fucking looking at his cell. “Cove, remember to watch your language while you’re questioned. Are you ready to speak with the detectives, or is there something else you’d like to discuss?”
I nod and take a deep breath. “Ready.”
He’s only gone a few minutes before returning with Detective Perry and another detective who I’ve seen around this office many times. They’re an awkward pair. Perry is one of those midwestern-cowboy-wannabe types. Wearing black cowboy boots, tight black jeans with a large belt buckle, and a white button down shirt that has pearl snaps, he could easily step right into a contemporary western. I eye him rolling his sleeves like he’s preparing for a fight as he takes the seat in front of me. Black hair, blue eyes, and a full mustache. The other detective is half his size, a woman probably in her thirties, who seems to have opted out of the soft appearance dress of her partner and is in full uniform. She joins us at the table and stares into my eyes.
“Mr. Everton, you’ve met Detective Perry, and I’m Detective Menendez, you’ve been accused of sexually assaulting Miss Ivy Moore. We understand that she’s an employee of yours, is this correct?”
“Former employee. She was fired earlier today.”
“And that’s why you called her in this morning, so you could fire her?”
“No. I called her because she brought an article to work about my wife’s father, Paul Jameson. I wanted to question her about it, and read it myself. I needed to make sure it wasn’t anything that was going to cause my family any harm. I know you know who I am, and I don’t believe I have to explain what I mean by that.”
“Cove,” my lawyer raises a brow as a signal to relax.
“I’m sorry. Please continue,” I say.
“Why did you fire Miss Moore?”
“She mouthed off to me, called me by my porn name, and joked about the industry. I found her words to be very disrespectful to me and my wife.”
“And she left when you fired her?”
“Yes, in tears. My head of security for the Scarlett was there and witnessed the entire conversation.”
“Did you see her after that?”
“No.”
“How long was it after she left that you decided to leave the building?”
“About thirty or forty-five minutes.”
“Which door did you exit?”
Detective Menendez is asking the questions as the other detective is leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.
“I went out the front door.”
“Were you in the back parking lot of your building at any time today?”
“Are you saying Ivy was raped on my property?”
“Cove.” My lawyer cuts in again. He said I should keep my mouth shut except to answer their questions. I close my eyes and exhale then continue on.
“The last time I was in the parking lot was with my wife and security guard when we closed the bar, but not since.”
“What time did you leave The Dark Scarlett this morning?”
“I believe around ten-thirty.”
A text comes through Detective Perry’s phone and he shows it to his partner then leaves the room. Good. The less people staring at me the better. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans but quickly stop when I remember it’s a sign of guilt, and decide to sit on them instead. They’re shaking like an old car engine and I could really use a drink right about now. Fuck.
“What did you do then?” the detective asks.
“I drove over to the Tribune news building on Market Street and circled it a few times searching for my father’s car.”
“Why?”
God, this is gonna take forever. “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” she holds a straight face and glares into my eyes once more.
I tell her about Ivy’s mother, more about the article, and how my father fits into all of this, and my drive in the city to try and locate him. When I hear myself talk about it, I’d say I was guilty. It sounds fishy and completely unbelievable. I fired an employee and then went to her mother’s business and private residence afterward? What the fuck for? Am I a stalker or something? I seem like a creep. My lawyer signals me to continue on, even though I’m hesitant and would probably fair better if I just made something up.
“So you went to Strozki’s Fine Chocolates at what time?”