Love With A Stranger Read Free Page B

were…close friends. Was there any trouble between you and your husband? Did he have any enemies?”
    “Why were you in bed when you were expecting his return?” Detective Killian added.
    Cass’s gaze shifted to Carl Killian. “Why would you ask about our personal relationship? What does that have to do with Tom’s accident?”
    “Mr. Grantham’s wreck hasn’t been ruled an accident,” Beals said.
    Cass eyed Adam Beals closely. “I don’t understand…The other officer told me Sunday night—”
    “He spoke prematurely. We aren’t sure it was just an accident; the car’s still being examined. Would you answer my other questions?” Killian interrupted.
    Cass gaped at Killian. “If you haven’t finished inspecting the car, what makes you think it wasn’t an accident?”
    “Gut feeling and experience with crimes.”
    “Crimes?” She echoed Killian’s alarming word as she felt her legs go weak and her head spin.
    “Murder is a mighty serious crime, don’t you think?”
    Cass focused her gaze on Beals. “Are you trying to tell me my husband was…murdered?” She saw Beals shrug. “That’s impossible.”
    “Is it? From what I hear, he was a very wealthy and powerful man.”
    “Yes, but Tom didn’t have any enemies. Perhaps a few people didn’t like him, but no one hated him. Gentlemen, I’m not feeling well this morning, so I think you should leave now and return on Monday.”
    “This is just preliminary questioning to help us clear up this case, Mrs. Grantham, but we can talk downtown if you prefer.”
    Cass repeated Killian’s word. “Downtown?”
    “At the station. We just thought it would be nicer to do it here.”
    Who, Cass wondered, was this Gretchen and why had she been with Tom earlier on that ill-fated night? And why were these detectives being so insensitive? “Should I call my lawyer?” Cass heard herself ask him, though she didn’t know why she did. She’d read too many mystery novels and watched too many dramatic movies while having little to do during Tom’s many absences. That would account for it.
    “Do you need one?”
    “You make it sound as if it would be a good idea.”
    Killian suggested, “Perhaps I should Mirandize you, Mrs. Grantham, just so there won’t be any misunderstandings later.”
    “Neither a lawyer nor my Miranda rights are necessary, sir. I just don’t like having my privacy invaded, so just ask your questions and let’s get this over with so I can rest,” Cass told them as she took a seat in an armless turquoise chair, compelling her to clasp her hands in her lap. She ordered her wits to clear in order to deal with the astounding situation. She had the oddest feeling that Beals and Killian had tried to catch her off guard with their sudden appearance and bold queries. Perhaps she should summon Peter before she continued to speak with—
    “Do you remember my other questions? Will you answer them?” Beals demanded.
    Cass almost glared at the flush-faced detective with his challenging gaze and stern expression. Both these heartless men were causing her to feel irascible and edgy. Suddenly she didn’t care if she were polite or cooperative or if her behavior made her look suspicious. All she wanted to do was finish this horrendous episode and get rid of “Mutt & Jeff” so she could take a long bath in the Jacuzzi garden tub and have breakfast on the veranda overlooking the ocean where fresh air and bright sunshine could clear her mind and warm her icy soul. She was tired and hungry. She felt weak and assailed. She was angry. Her nerves were raw, and it was a struggle not to squirm in her seat or scream at the detectives, tell them to go to hell and get out of her home.
    Cass fought to retain her poise and wits. She couldn’t imagine what was wrong with her. Perhaps she was. suffering from delayed shock, total exhaustion, and/or depression. Despite her best intentions, she almost gritted out her words, “First, I would like to say this isn’t