SUCH A GOOD GIRL: An urgently timely gripping mystery with a heartbreaking twist (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 9), Page 3

  “I’m okay,” she said, her voice trembling. “I just need a second.”

  Rachel forced a smile and raised her gaze to look into the deeply worried eyes looking down at her.

  You can never tell them. They can never know.

  She grabbed her daughter’s hand in hers, then looked into her eyes, making sure she listened.

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  She managed to calm them down while everything inside her felt like it could explode at any second. She tried to push the emotions back, to hide them away as she had done for so many years, but for some reason, it was like they wouldn’t stay there anymore. It was like one of those jack-in-the-box toys that once it had popped open, it was impossible to close the lid again. No matter how much you struggled and fought the darn thing, the stupid clown just wouldn’t fit back inside, and the cover wouldn’t stay closed, leaving you stuck with the ugly clown face constantly grinning at you.

  Chapter 9

  Kimmie was already sitting in the interrogation room when I got there the next day. We were watching her through the surveillance camera in the corner.

  “So, you just want me to talk to her?” I asked. I had been lying awake all morning, wondering if there was any way I could still get out of this. No one would blame me for running away; I knew that much.

  Except for my daughter. Except for Olivia. And I couldn’t let her down.

  “Yes. We need her to tell the story. She’s our star witness in the case against Richard Wanton, and what she says will play a central part.”

  I looked at Isabella standing next to me. She was a woman in her mid-fifties, yet still stunningly beautiful. She wore that black suit and high heels like no one else. I sure couldn’t pull off an elegant outfit with the amount of grace that she did.

  “Otherwise, no pressure?” I said with a chortle.

  Isabella shook her head. “None whatsoever.”

  She handed me a file, and I read through it. Kimmie had to be dying in there, but that didn’t move me.

  “Is this all you have?” I asked, looking up at Isabella, baffled. “This is the entire case on Wanton?”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “But…it’s nothing. You have two police officers who say they saw him standing on the rooftop deck after the girl had fallen. There were a couple of fingerprints and hairs from him on her clothes, but that can be explained away by him being with her before she fell. There’s no proof that she was pushed. You’ll never get him convicted based on this. A guy like Wanton who has the best lawyers money can buy?”

  Isabella nodded again. “Tell me about it. Now, you understand why I so desperately need your help.”

  “And Kimmie hasn’t told you anything useful?” I asked, skimming through her statements.

  “All we know is she was in the apartment when Samantha Durkin fell to her death. She says she didn’t see anything, but we believe she did.”

  I shrugged. “So, you think I can get her to say more?”

  Isabella nodded. “She asked to speak to you. She said she didn’t trust anyone else. We believe she knows a lot more than what she has told us, and hopefully, she’ll share it with you. There are a few things that don’t seem to add up.”

  “Like what?”

  “She says she was in the bedroom when the girl fell to her death, so that’s why she can’t say if he pushed her. She told us she was struggling with putting her shoes back on while the officers who came to the apartment tell us she wasn’t wearing her shoes. She was barefoot, and her shoes were found on the couch in the living room. She says she barely knew Samantha, but still, she knew that she had recently had an abortion. Things like that.”

  “Are you considering charging her?” I asked. “With accessory?”

  “We’re considering it if she won’t tell us more, yes,” Isabella said.

  I looked at Kimmie on the screen, and my heart dropped. The woman had broken my marriage, and I was angry with her, but she deserved a chance. I felt a pinch in my stomach at the thought of having to face her again after all that had happened. I really didn’t want to.

  “Okay, and so once I get her entire statement, hopefully, a useful one, then I’m off the hook, right?”

  Isabella nodded. “That’s the deal, yes.”

  I looked at my phone to make sure my family wasn’t trying to reach me. Angel, my four-month-old, was smiling at me from the picture on my background, and my heart melted. Gosh, I missed her so much.

  “Let’s do this,” I said and closed the file. “If all goes well, I should be back with my baby later tonight.”

  Isabella grabbed my shoulder and made me look at her.

  “Be compassionate, Eva Rae. Please. We need her to get to Wanton. Without her, he’ll walk. Compassion, Eva Rae, do you hear me? Be the nicest that you can.”

  Chapter 10

  THEN:

  Her heart was beating so fast. She stared at the door to the hotel room, 103. The hallway was spinning as she felt how drunk she was. She had taken a few shots while making her decision in the bar. She had thought she’d feel better about it as she approached the door, but she didn’t.

  Yet she lifted her hand and knocked.

  The door swung open, and there he was—the handsome Richard Wanton, who could make or break a career. He was in his boxers, smiling. He was well-trimmed even though you could tell that he was starting to get what Samantha’s mom would lovingly call a muffin-top.

  At least he’s good-looking. Twice your age, yes, but still handsome.

  He looked her up and down with a grin, then grabbed her arm and pulled her inside gently. He held her head between his hands and lifted her chin, then looked deeply into her eyes. She felt herself shiver.

  He leaned forward, still holding her head between his hands, then pressed his lips against hers, pressing her back up against the wall behind her. The aggressive move made her shriek lightly, but that only seemed to encourage him further. He let go of her head, then started to undress her, pulling off her top and bra. Then he paused and admired her bare breasts, his head slightly tilted, a hungry look in his eyes. He then bent forward, grabbed her skirt, and pulled it down to her ankles. Gently, he lifted her feet one after the other so he could get it off completely. Then he grabbed her panties and slowly pulled them down, leaving her standing completely naked in her high heels in front of him.

  Samantha wanted to cover herself up and moved her hands to do so, but he stopped her, shaking his head with a tsk.

  “Don’t. I want to see you.”

  Then he pulled back, grabbed a cigarette, and lit it. Samantha could barely breathe as she stood there in the middle of the hotel room, naked, him watching her body while smoking.

  Then, he smiled, his eyes narrowing.

  “You’re gorgeous; do you know that?”

  That made her blush. No one had ever called her beautiful before. The few guys she had been with had been drunk out of their minds and fumbled in the darkness. No one had ever seen her naked like this or admired her body.

  “Absolutely stunning,” he added, blowing out smoke.

  Richard Wanton put out his cigarette in an ashtray next to him, while Samantha didn’t dare to move. He approached her, then knelt in front of her, grabbed her strapped high heeled shoes, and started to unbuckle them. He took them off one after the other, and she was now standing with her bare feet on the floor.

  Richard Wanton then grabbed her hand, kissed the top of it, and pulled her toward the bed.

  Chapter 11

  I hesitated for just a second, took in a deep breath, and braced myself for what I was supposed to do before opening the door.

  Be the nicest that you can.

  It was easy for her to say.

  Kimmie looked up, and our eyes met across the small barren room. There she was, the woman who had stolen my husband and destroyed everything we had built together. As always, she looked gorgeous with her unnaturally long legs, and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytai
l. Her big deer-like eyes stared at up me, her mouth slightly gaping as if she wanted to speak, but the words were frozen in her throat. I remained in place, just stood there, holding my breath, fighting my anger.

  It was safe to say it wasn’t a pleasant moment.

  “Eva Rae,” she finally said.

  I moved forward, threw the file on the table, my eyes avoiding hers, then sat down. Without looking up, I opened the file and looked at the first page. Then, I folded my hands on top of it and finally lifted my gaze to meet hers.

  “Kimmie Vanderspool. Do you understand why you’re here today?”

  She stared at me. I was barely breathing. I thought about the many times she and Chad had been at PTO meetings together, about the fundraiser they had worked on together to raise money for the new playground at the school. I thought about the bake sales and the multicultural nights they had both volunteered for back when our kids were much younger. Had they flirted? Had they known already then?

  Kimmie nodded. “Yes.”

  I looked down again. “Good.”

  “Listen, Eva Rae…I…”

  “Agent Thomas,” I said. “That’s Agent Thomas to you.”

  She formed a disappointed look on her face, then nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “Good.”

  Silence broke out between us while I fought my urge to scream. I wanted to yell at her, to ask her how on earth she could have done what she did, ask her how well she slept at night.

  “Ev…I mean, Agent Thomas,” Kimmie finally said. “I know you must think it’s odd that I asked to speak to you, with our…um…history and all…”

  “That is putting it mildly, but yes,” I said as I lifted my gaze and met hers. “I did find it odd you’d ask for me of all people.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I knew you’d probably say no, so I am really glad you came after all. It’s just that…well, I know you. Or I feel like I do. Our kids were friends, remember? And I did enjoy getting to know your other children when Chad and I were…when we were together. So, I thought that even though…we have been through…um…a lot, maybe you’d say yes; maybe you could help me out. I know I don’t deserve it…”

  “You’re darn right you don’t,” I said a little louder and rougher than anticipated. I stared at her, breathing hard, trying to stop my nostrils from flaring, so she wouldn’t notice just how angry I was.

  “I just…”

  Kimmie stopped, and tears piled up in her eyes. I stared at her, refusing to feel sympathy for her. She sniffled, then continued, leaning forward and speaking in almost a whisper.

  “I really need your help now. There is no one else I trust to tell my story to.”

  Chapter 12

  “Let’s take it from the beginning,” I said after taking a few deep breaths, making sure I was calm enough. Sitting face to face with Kimmie was tougher than I had expected it to be. I wanted to rip her head off. I wanted to yell at her, tell her I believed she was the actual scum of the earth, that there was a special place in Hell for women who did what she had done to me.

  But this was not the time. Of course, it wasn’t. Besides, I wasn’t interested in listening to her make excuses. What she did wasn’t something that could be solved with a simple “I’m so sorry.” We both knew that. But, of course, she’d try to justify her actions. I just wasn’t willing to hear it.

  “It says here that when Officer Marshall and Officer Parish came into the apartment and arrested Richard Wanton, they found you in the bedroom, sitting on the floor. You told them you hadn’t seen what happened, but you heard the scream.”

  Kimmie nodded. Since I had last seen her, she had lost weight, and it showed on her face with visible cheekbones and sunken cheeks. She’d have to be careful not to lose any more weight since she’d end up looking older than she was.

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “Let’s go back a little bit. What were you doing in Richard Wanton’s apartment in the first place?”

  I cleared my throat and leaned back in my chair, waiting for her to take over. She stared at the edge of the table for a few seconds before she finally opened her mouth to speak.

  “I…I know him from years ago,” she said, fiddling with her fingers on the table.

  I looked into the file. “You are a journalist?”

  She nodded. “I worked as a reporter at WBC News.”

  “And Richard Wanton worked there as well?”

  “He was the news director back then. It was fifteen years ago.”

  “He was your boss?”

  She nodded. “Yes. He hired me fresh out of college. Gave me my big break.”

  “Would you say you have a good relationship with him?”

  She paused, then said:

  “He taught me everything I know.”

  I looked at her, noticing that she didn’t answer my question. I wondered if it was deliberate. Was she afraid of saying that she liked him? Maybe I’d think she was his accomplice? That she helped him kill the girl? Or that she might be protecting him? Was she trying to hide her involvement somehow?

  It was too early to tell.

  I tried again:

  “But it’s safe to say that you two were friends since he invited you to his apartment, am I right?”

  A long pause.

  “I owe him everything. He kick-started my career.”

  Again, she avoided the answer. I decided to let it slide—for now, at least. I sighed. This was getting annoying.

  “Kimmie, I need you to give me a little more here. All I know is that you were in Richard Wanton’s apartment when Samantha Durkin was killed. We’re desperately trying to figure out what happened. Can you enlighten us?”

  She nodded pensively, biting her lip.

  “I’m getting to it. Just be patient with me, okay?”

  Chapter 13

  I was beginning to think I was wasting my time. I kept thinking about Angel and how badly she had to miss me. She wasn’t used to being away from me, and I felt awful for leaving. But I had to admit that I truly enjoyed getting some uninterrupted sleep last night.

  I rubbed my forehead and leaned forward. Kimmie drank water from her cup. I desperately needed some more coffee.

  “I met him a few weeks ago in a bar,” Kimmie finally began. “He was out with friends, and I was out with a couple of girlfriends when he came in. They were all laughing and having a great time. They had been to some fundraiser dinner somewhere else in town, then stopped the limo at a bar to get a beer on the way home. That’s what he told me when he spotted me sitting there and came over. Then his assistant called me up out of the blue a week later and invited me to dinner. I was told he wanted to talk about me getting back to working again. I was naturally thrilled. I have been struggling these past few years, doing freelance writing for different magazines, but I really wanted to get back into television. It was my dream, and it burst when I was pregnant with Tristan.”

  I looked up at her. “Okay. Now, we’re getting somewhere. Did you go to the dinner?”

  She nodded, then looked away. “I did. On the night when…when the girl was…”

  She paused and sniffled, her eyes still avoiding mine. “Okay, let’s dial back a little. You went to dinner. Where was it?”

  “At Mastro’s. I had salmon; he had a steak.”

  “Expensive place,” I said and wrote it down. “And what did you talk about?”

  She lifted her gaze. “Mostly old times back at WBC News. Old stories about our former colleagues. He then asked me if I was interested in going back to work in television because he had an opening in his news department. It was the position of an anchor and would be a good fit for me, he said. He knew that was my biggest dream back then, so naturally, I was very excited when he started to tell me about it. I wanted it so badly.”

  “Badly enough to sleep with him to get it?” I asked, leaning forward.

  Her eyes met mine. Hers seemed desperate.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “For jumping
the gun, but they did find you in his apartment, in the bedroom, so I just assumed that he…”

  “There’s always a catch, isn’t there?” Kimmie said, her eyes tearing up. “Especially in this business. It’s just the way it is, the way it has always been.”

  “And you saw this as your last chance at getting your career back,” I said.

  She swallowed, then nodded. A tear escaped her eye, and she wiped it away fast. “I’m not getting any younger. This was my last chance. After he had talked about this anchor position for a very long time, he suddenly leaned forward, grabbed my hand in his hand, and said: ‘The job is yours within twenty-four hours if you’ll have it.’ I distinctively remember how my heart was pounding with joy as the words fell. ‘Oh, but I do,’ I said naturally. And then he said: ‘And within those twenty-four hours, you’ll also have slept with me.’ That’s when everything crashed inside me. He went to the bathroom, and I was dying inside, trying to make the decision. I’m not seeing anyone; I haven’t been since…well, Chad left me to go back to you…so that wasn’t an obstacle. And no one needed to know, right? I mean, I could get it over with and then start the job the following day and forget all about it. This could change my life, both for my son and me. The money was amazing, and the job was everything I ever wanted. It wasn’t that big of a deal, I thought. I’d be fine.”

  “So, you went with him.”

  Kimmie looked away, then nodded. “When he came back from the bathroom, he reached out his hand and asked if I was ready. I grabbed it and went with him to his limo, then let him take me to the apartment. Yes. That’s how much of a slut I am. But I guess you already knew that.”

  Chapter 14

  Kimmie was sobbing, her eyes lowered, looking at her shoes. I refused to feel sorry for her. She didn’t deserve it.

  I cleared my throat, then looked down at the file again. “You went back to his apartment to seal the deal,” I said. “And then what happened?”