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SOPHIE WOULDN’T LET me go back to work for an entire fortnight. She’d told me, in no uncertain terms, that my head injury needed to heal and my frame of mind needed to clear.
She was right, as much as I hated to admit it. I’d ignored every one of Trin’s calls and found myself lingering in the manor and reading my way through the library between updating Fiona that I was okay, that I was eating, that I wasn’t having a nervous breakdown or becoming an alcoholic, and promising to keep her updated because she was worried about Sophie too.
The police had done nothing with the evidence I’d shown them so I had eavesdropped on Frank calling Sophie’s barrister and got his number. I’d got the chauffeur to take me to his office and presented him with everything I had . . . then been dismissed like I was a complete idiot.
I arrived back at Hayefield to a crisp morning and Edwina’s glare.
“Morning,” I mumbled. She had a habit of catching Sophie talking to me or checking on me. She often tended to follow that with muttering about Fiona trusting me to be professional.
“You are charged with investigating and yet you seem overly keen on enjoying Sophie’s company and her chauffeur,” Edwina snapped, blocking my route up the pathway. The forensics team had raked over the spot where Salisbury had been shot but Fiona said there had been a lot of contamination and Wood driving over the scene had rendered most of the evidence unusable. “I hope this is a tactic to find out the truth . . . or you would be a complete fool.”
“Truth?” I sighed. “The truth is her barrister is a fraud. I gave him all the evidence he needed to have Sophie released. There is no evidence to suggest that she shot Salisbury, no evidence to suggest that she backed that up by killing Bunion. The police are clinging to conjecture and any barrister should demand that the police drop the case against her.”
“How do you know?” Edwina studied me. She hadn’t believed me when I told her Sophie had stitched my head injury. She’d made me lie down with an ice pack instead.
“This is a high profile case with political whack to it. If the Crown Prosecution Service thought there was any sniff of getting that win in court, they’d be hounding Wood for the casefile.” I rubbed over the healing stitches. Sophie had said she was going to take them out soon. I wasn’t looking forward to that and I was. They were itchy. “She needs a better barrister.”
“So if the police should be releasing her, why are they harassing her?” Edwina was listening then. I half wondered if she knew something to point to Sophie being guilty but she seemed to sway back and forth between distrust and protecting her.
“Because Wood was a good DS but she followed my orders and Trin shouldn’t be a detective. She’s fantastic at family liaison, great with beat work, but neither of them have the gut or the eyes to follow the evidence.” I shrugged and started to walk toward the manor. “If I was in charge, I wouldn’t waste my time on some open case from over twenty years ago. I’d release Sophie and look at the wider picture.”
“So what can you do for her now?” Edwina fell into step as I headed up to the arched gateway.
“What I am doing.” I smiled at her. “First thing is to ensure safety. Jake has been looking along the borders again and has cleared the undergrowth away from the walls. I’m going to request we put up some night-vision cameras facing the perimeter.” I headed out into the courtyard. “Then I want to introduce photographic membership cards for the gun club. They don’t need a gun licence if they hire the guns.”
Edwina nodded. “I can see to that.”
“Thank you. Then I want a list of the actual members of staff employed here and what shift they’re on and their location. I know I haven’t seen one of the security guys since I got smacked over the head.” I pulled open the door the service entrance. “And I’m going to talk to Sophie about the fact she needs to be released and the cameras . . . hopefully, she won’t snarl.”
Edwina blew out a relieved breath. “I feel reassured, thank you.”
“Thank me when the police leave Sophie alone and concentrate on finding out who actually committed the crime.” I nodded to Frank who pursed his lips as he wiped over his ancient grey computer monitor. “Is Lady Haye free?”
“Who knows,” he muttered. “She was in an unpleasant mood earlier so I took a break.”
I perched on the edge of his desk. He had one of those square gentlemen’s club lamps. “Do you know why?”
Edwina shrugged.
“Off,” Frank said, flapping his cloth at me. “She isn’t her brother, that’s why.” He scrubbed at his mouse. “Henry was far more reasonable.”
“He was,” Edwina whispered. “She is too much like her grandfather.”
Frank nodded as he scrubbed his desk with a wipe. He was clinically clean, as in I could eat my lunch off his desk. “Yes, but not even he attacked his family.”
Edwina “shh’d” him. “Don’t tell your tales.”
“Oh, I read that bit. Apparently Sophie lured her brother’s fiancé into the forest then he was found badly wounded.” It didn’t match the photos Fiona had sent of the case file.
“It isn’t a tale. I was there. I saw her,” Frank muttered then glared at the door. “Don’t be fooled by her charm. Henry loved Eugenie . . .” He slunk his head into his shoulders almost like a tortoise. “She did it to tear him apart.”
“Frank.” Edwina scowled at him. “We don’t know what happened.” She turned to me. “None of us do and we might have been on the lawn but only Sophie knows what happened in that forest.”
“She’s dangerous and you know it,” Frank shot back. He took his glasses off and gave them a clean too. “Do not trust her.”
I smiled, hoping it looked professional and that I wasn’t ignoring it. The man hid from Raquel like she’d eat him, he was hardly a solid witness.
“You know my feelings.” Edwina sighed and paced off down the corridor, launching into heckling one of the maids cleaning the portrait of Sophie’s grandfather.
I wandered to the office door and knocked it. I only hoped Sophie wasn’t in there or she wouldn’t be happy with Frank.
No answer.
“Did she head anywhere?” I asked him. If I had to get dirt on his desk for answers, I would.
“Upstairs probably.” He turned back to his computer. “Don’t you have something to do?”
He was ever so friendly.
I rolled my eyes and headed up the stairs to the family wing only to find Sophie walking down them halfway. Her gaze was hard, her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at some printouts in her hands.
“I heard you’re in scary mode this morning,” I said, hoping my happy tone covered my uncertainty. I didn’t know where her boundaries lay. I’d offered a lot of information about myself over the fortnight. I’d told her about my mother and step-dad, about why I’d joined the police even, but she’d offered nothing in return.
She looked up and her brow kinked in the middle. “If that is so, why are you not running?”
“You just run after me?” I slid my right hand in my pocket. I could see her remembering her words under the Willow-Blossom by the flicker of desire in her eyes.
“Then perhaps I should snarl?” She strolled down to stand on the step in front so she towered over me.
“Frank thinks you did earlier.” I peered up at her, the white-wash of the cloudy day airbrushed her until her features looked like silk.
She held my gaze and the colours underneath the charcoal glowed almost like embers. Someone really needed to commission a portrait of her.
“You shouldn’t look at me in such a way,” she whispered and held up the papers. “Running an estate is highly stressful. It is even more so when I have to deal with men like Richard Bright.”
“The housing developer?” I took the papers from her. Bright was quoting some legal right to buy land by the government. “Can he do this?”
“No. This land does not belong to the crown or the government. It was given to my family as payment for their services.” She folded her arms. “But Bright feels if he throws overpaid wig-wearers at the matter, he will win.”
“Do you have proof that the land belongs to you?” I was no good with property law. Give me violent or serious crime and I could quote the law to the letter but give me boundaries and you drew a blank.
“Yes. Which is why I believe we had an intruder.” She took my left hand—which whirred in response—and kissed it. “But . . .” She sighed. “He still has me spending money and copious hours on barristers.”
“And your barrister is rubbish.” I watched her running her hands over my metal fingers like it was some work of art.
She raised an eyebrow.
“I went to see him and presented him all he needs to get you released and off that tag machine yet he thinks I was being silly.” I shook my head. Those had been his exact words too. “With all due respect, ma’am, he’s an overpaid wig-wearer too.”
Sophie bellowed out her laugh, her eyes creased up and she gripped my left hand. “Then maybe you can assist me?”
“I’d love to.”
She eased my hand around. “There is less resistance during ulna stimulation now. It is healing nicely.”
“I have a great doctor . . . even if she isn’t actually a doctor.” I cocked my head as she flexed my hand around again. “Or she was when she disappeared for years.”
Sophie pursed her lips. “If that is a way to ask me where I was, you will be disappointed.”
“Maybe it’s a way to tell you I’d like to help if you let me and I’d like to keep you safe, please.” I smiled as she raised an eyebrow at me again. “I want to put night-vision cameras up along the borders. I’ll install them. I just need you to buy the kit.”
She shook her head. “I can’t sanction that kind of outgoing.”
“What if I find a cost effective way?” I growled. Why wouldn’t she help herself? “We need to stop whoever it is that keeps sneaking in. I need to make sure that you are safe. I don’t want you being a target and I don’t want whoever is trying to frame you to win.” I stuck out my chin. “I’d rather you did.”
Sophie gripped hold of my face, hunger igniting in her eyes. “Be careful what you say.”
“Why, will you grow fangs?” I steadied myself. She could flip my feelings at will. Her energy changed too quickly to counter most of the time. I loved that about her. It excited me. Everything about her excited and confused me.
“Have they not warned you enough?” She took the papers and ran her hand through my hair.
“Maybe I’m capable of making up my own mind,” I shot back and grabbed her hand. “You have enough on your plate with Bright, with the police investigation, let alone running this place. Please, if I find a way to make it cost effective, will you let me install the cameras?”
Sophie slid her fingers through mine. “Of course.” She purred it to me, beckoning me and I leaned up. She let my lips close enough I could feel the heat from them. “You’re taunting me again.”
“I’m taunting myself,” I mumbled back.
Edwina cleared her throat somewhere down the steps. “Sophie, DI Wood and DS Matthews are here to see you. They would like Sophie to accompany them to the station.”
I held Sophie’s gaze. “You need me with you for this. Trust me to back you up?”
Her eyes flickered with that loneliness then she studied me. “Why would you wish to do this?”
Because I cared . . . a lot . . . way too much. “You backed me up, twice.”
Her smile curled the corners of her mouth like she knew the real reason. “Very well.”
I dragged my gaze away and expected Edwina to glare at me but she held only curiosity in her eyes. “Where are they?”
“I showed them to the lake room,” Edwina said like I was supposed to know the name. “The big blue one.”
Sophie raised her eyebrow as she followed me down. “My great-great-grandmother named that room for a reason. I should make you run laps for forgetting.” Said like she wanted to make me so she could chase me to the tree.
Ugh. Arousal was a bitch.
“There’re about fifty rooms on the ground floor that all overlook the lake.” I shrugged and headed down the stairs in step with her. “Why is that one special?”
Sophie let through a chuckle loud enough it echoed. “Because she had an unrestricted view of the lake without the tree in the way.” She pointed up at a severe looking woman’s portrait beside a handsome but mean looking man. “She hated the tree.”
“Why?” You might have guessed why I was so fond of it, I know, but trees were beautiful.
“She suspected he liked to take maids’ virtues there.” Sophie smiled a rakish smile.
Family traditions. For some, it was handing down ways to beat a common cold, for the Haye family, it was where to seduce hapless women.
Sophie laughed, hearty, arrogant and I pursed my lips. Hapless, yes, and amusing clearly.
––––––––
SOPHIE LET MORGAN lead the way into the interview room. The station was a bland affair with “CCTV in operation” on the walls and one plastic looking table against the wall with a recorder on it. Morgan took a seat nearest the wall and Sophie sat beside her. Wood and Matthews sat opposite.
Wood droned through her explanation of the recording process and then spouted her rank—which Morgan flinched at—and Matthews did the same. Then came the date, time, and place of the interview, that they would give Sophie notice about the copies of the interview, cautioned her, gave her the spiel on legal advice and the fact she’d been silent in previous interviews. What a waste of tape.
“Sophie,” Wood said in her best attempt at assertive. “I asked you if you knew the identity of the man found on your property. You stated that you had nothing to say on the matter without your lawyer.”
“That was not the question my response aligns to.” She looked at Morgan who nodded. Her body language had switched in the station. She grew more dominant in her movements, more assertive in the way she held herself. It wasn’t hard to see her as a police officer now.
“For the tape, Sophie Haye disagrees with the statement as recorded.” Wood handed her a piece of paper like she had expected it.
Sophie eyed it then looked to Morgan again.
“If you don’t wish to sign it, they will record the disagreement and refusal to sign,” Morgan said. “But it’s advisable to sign that you disagree.”
Sophie nodded and did as told.
“We have some questions,” Wood said but hunched. Neither seemed able to hold Morgan’s steely gaze. Fascinating.
“To what purpose?” Morgan sat in her chair like she owned the place. It would be entertaining to watch her work.
“The discovery of Clive Bunion’s body,” DS Matthews said with a rough edge to her voice. There was a definite challenge. “We would like to know your movements on the night he was found.”
“No comment.” Sophie shrugged when Morgan looked at her with confusion. She wasn’t explaining herself to anyone.
“Can you tell us why you refuse to answer the question?” Wood said in an exasperated tone. They’d gone at it for hours when they had arrested her for murder, surely Wood had learned.
“No comment.” She folded her arms. It was hard not to smile.
“Have you ever met Bunion before?” Matthews muttered.
“No comment.” And now Morgan was glaring at her too.
“I would like to confer with my client,” Morgan said, sounding as harassed as the previous barrister.
Matthews and Wood nodded, announced the break in interview, and left the room.
“Ma’am,” Morgan said with confusion in her pale green eyes. “There is no risk to you answering their questions. It shows willing if you do.”
“And you saw what Wood did. She used an answer from an entirely different question against me.” Sophie shook her head. “I do not trust them.”
“But will you trust me?” Morgan smiled up at her and squeezed her arm. “Trust that I know what I’m doing. If I don’t want you to answer, I’ll advise you not to?”
Sophie sighed. “If I go to jail, I expect you to visit.”
Morgan met her gaze, then something close to mirth flickered across her eyes. Yes, she understood without many words. It was refreshing to have someone who could keep up.
Wood and Matthews reconvened the interview, but this time, Morgan moved her chair closer so her foot was next to Sophie’s under the table. It was too enjoyable not to smile and Matthews glared like she wanted to skew her. Good. The feeling was mutual.
“We will move on to Eugenie Forthwright,” Wood said like that was supposed to make Sophie flinch or blurt out some confession. “Both you and Eugenie went missing after an altercation with your brother, Henry.”
“And I’ll remind you that this interview is for the purpose of investigating Clive Bunion’s death.” Morgan touched her foot to Sophie’s. “What is the relevance to this crime?”
“We’re establishing that Bunion had investigated Eugenie’s disappearance and that he was due to publish a book further incriminating Haye. Which is considerable motive.” Wood smiled at Morgan like she had her.
“I advise you to answer no questions on unrelated incidents,” Morgan said like she was slapping Wood across the face. “There is no reason to suggest that Eugenie Forthwright isn’t alive and well.”
Sophie smiled. “No comment.”
Morgan nodded. “There is your answer.”
“You were missing for nineteen years, Sophie,” Matthews said as if that would help. “You wasted police resources looking for you. You went missing with Eugenie and Henry was seriously wounded.”
“Again, I advise you not to answer questions on unrelated incidents,” Morgan said in a haughty tone.
Sophie smiled at her. Morgan was intoxicating in this mood. “No comment.”
“I am issuing a special warning,” Matthews said, shaking her head. “That on your arrest and charging at this station for the murder of Rachel Salisbury, your DNA was recorded. We have found that DNA on Bunion’s body.”
Sophie looked to Morgan who shook her head. “No comment.”
“DS Matthews, a special warning may only be given in circumstances relating to the offence you have arrested and searched my client for.” Morgan swiped her finger through the air. “You can’t use it for any offence.”
Didn’t Matthews blushed at that. This was priceless.
Wood narrowed her eyes. “Clive Bunion presented a manuscript to his publisher which details how you buried Eugenie Forthwright in the exact same spot that Bunion was found.” She glared at Morgan. “Bunion went missing three weeks ago. Your DNA was found on his body. I would like you to explain why and I remind you that a court may draw its own conclusion if you refuse to answer.”
Morgan rubbed her foot.
“The reporter was found on my estate and, alongside my legal representation and two staff members, we discovered his body and I consented to Morgan calling the police.” It was still stomach churning to think of the flowers. Transplanting them to the greenhouse was a risk but Jake was the best. Had to trust in his ability.
“Where were you before the body was discovered?” Matthews asked, leaning onto the table.
Morgan rubbed her foot again.
“In my office as per the statements of my staff.” Sophie tried not to say it through gritted teeth.
“For the entire evening?” Matthews was pushing it.
Morgan rubbed her foot.
“Yes. However, I did enjoy a heart to heart with my legal representative in the courtyard for a few minutes.” And she held Matthews’ eyes to give her every suspicion of how much she’d enjoyed it.
“How long were you having this heart to heart?” Matthews snapped.
“I’m unsure, time flies when you have such enjoyable company.” She smiled, enjoying the purple-ish glow seeping through Matthews’ face.
Wood cleared her throat.
“You have my witness statement,” Morgan said and kicked Sophie’s foot.
It was incredibly hard not to chuckle.
“In light of the murder charge against you, Sophie, we are applying for a warrant to search the flowerbed.” Wood held Sophie’s gaze as if she thought it would be a challenge. “Do you have anything you would like to tell us beforehand?”
Morgan laughed which stopped Sophie from snapping.
“On what grounds, Ruth?” She shook her head. “You don’t have to answer that ludicrous question.”
“We have plenty of evidence,” Matthews snapped. “Not to mention the DNA linking Haye to Salisbury’s death. Multiple murders involve deeper investigations into suspects’ lives.”
“May I remind you, detectives, that this interview is for the purpose of asking questions on Clive Bunion’s body being discovered at Hayefield.” Morgan folded her arms. “Evidence has been submitted which shows that the charge is unsound and explains the reasons why any DNA from my client was present along with traces of GSR.”
Sophie smiled. There was loyalty, then there was being proprietary. Morgan sounded both.
Matthews shot daggers at Sophie. “So far we have two ex-lovers missing, one dead and a reporter who wished to expose you dead.”
“Yes,” Wood said and fixed on Sophie too. “We have several reports of a woman called Maggie Peters, who’d been set to inherit over one hundred million, being seen with Sophie before her disappearance.”
Peters was an old one to bring up. Sophie crossed her legs. Let’s see where they went with this one.
“You were photographed with her earlier that night,” Wood said and pulled out a picture of Peters and Sophie in the evening arts’ gala. “Her friends reported that she was scared of your temper.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know about Peters then. “Again, we are straying from the point of the interview, detectives. Need I remind you that dragging up hearsay or media pictures in some magazine is not evidence.”
“We’re asking someone who saw Peters’ hours before she disappeared if there was a falling out or some reason why she might have disappeared.” Wood smiled at Morgan as if that would convince anyone. “Seeming as it shows a pattern.”
Morgan rubbed her foot.
“I wouldn’t know.” Sophie cleaned her fingernails. “I had never met her before that night.”
And like Salisbury, she’d been trying to work Sophie to soften her to a takeover, and, like Salisbury, she’d failed.
“We have gone through Peters’ phone records,” Matthews said with a snide smile. “You send intimate messages to people you haven’t met often?”
Morgan rubbed her foot.
“Yes.” Didn’t that earn her raised eyebrows.
“You have phone sex with random strangers?” Wood scowled, her disgust shining through her words.
Morgan rubbed her foot.
“Some parts of society are well known to each other. I may not have met her but I knew of her and she knew of me.” Which they would have seen through the phone records so why hide it? “If she wanted my attention so badly, why would I decline her company?”
“You don’t need to say anymore,” Morgan said. “You are being more than helpful considering how ridiculous this line of questioning is.”
“It is. There are several other pictures of Peters leaving the hotel without my company.” She smiled at Wood who looked like she wanted to throttle her. “There is also a picture of me getting into my car and being driven home.” She smiled. “Curtesy of the same tabloids.”
Morgan’s shoulders relaxed. Loyal, proprietary, and now concerned. Dear, dear, she was forgetting who wore her ring, clearly.
“Are there any questions relating to Clive Bunion’s death which are relevant?” Morgan asked like it was an order.
Wood and Matthews exchanged a glance.
“Good, then on this recording, I would like to state that I have submitted the evidence to explain Lady Haye’s presence in the case where she has been unjustly arrested and I would like the detectives present to act accordingly.” Morgan shot it at them like an insult. “And I would like them to answer why they have not responded before?”
“No comment,” Wood mumbled and concluded the interview far faster than she’d started it.
Morgan stood and motioned to Sophie who followed suit. “I warn you both that if you try to harass my client any further without substantial grounds, I will file a complaint with the police complaints commission.”
Forget intoxicating, Morgan was delicious beyond words the way her eyes hardened, her lips parted like she was enjoying the victory.
Wood exchanged a glance with Matthews and they led them out in silence.
Morgan stopped beside the custody desk. “Hi, Gerry. Could you help me out with something?”
The sergeant behind the desk grinned at her and strolled over. “Always happy to help you. What is it?”
“Can you please call Derek down here? I’ve tried reasoning with Ruth and Trin but they are continuing to ignore procedure.” Morgan sighed like she was heavy-hearted.
“You got it.” Gerry glared at Matthews and Wood. Oh, so Morgan was by far the more liked. How amusing.
“We’ll wait over there.” Morgan led them to a bench in the corner as Matthews was dragged off by Wood. “I’m sorry it turned into a bit of a slanging match.”
Sophie smiled. “It was never enough of a contest to be called a match.” She held the pale green eyes gazing up at her. “That look will get you in untold amounts of trouble.”
“So Raquel tells me,” Morgan mumbled back.
“Then you should listen.” Sophie smiled.
Morgan touched the implants above Sophie’s ears. “Sometimes I don’t want to.”
Sophie took her hand, barely suppressing the hunger rolling up. “You should.”
Morgan cocked her head. “Why?”
Sophie turned from her to the desk. “Ask me again when we’re home.”
“Morgan?” A podgy guy in a shirt and tie waddled in. “Nice to see you. Heard you’d jumped the fence.”
Morgan smiled up at him but made him come to them. “I would like my client to be de-arrested, please. I’ve been very patient about this until now but it’s not going to look good on the force if I have to go public about the treatment Lady Haye is receiving.”
Derek sucked in his chin. “De-arrested?”
“I have supplied the video that shows the marks on Salisbury were there when she left the manor, that Salisbury was shot in front of the camera by someone shorter than Lady Haye and that Lady Haye, on the day of the shooting, had been using a legally issued firearm on her estate.” Morgan held his gaze. “You know me, Derek, if Lady Haye was guilty, I wouldn’t be representing her.”
He nodded. “Ruth is the SIO—”
“And I advise you keep a closer eye. A narrow-focused investigation is a firework you do not want burning in your hands.” Morgan smiled like she was doing him a favour. “Running around after gossip is just stupid.”
Wood and Matthews came around the corner then glared over.
Derek studied her for a minute then nodded as if Morgan was his boss too. “Lady Haye, I am de-arresting you for the murder of Rachel Salisbury. I advise you that you are free to leave and remove the conditions imposed on you by your bail. I do also warn you that should further evidence come to light, the police may arrest you again.”
Wood’s shoulder’s slumped and Matthews stomped into a side room.
Sophie looked at Derek and nodded then took Morgan back to the manor.
“I would like you to have dinner with me tonight,” she said as Morgan turned to head back to her room. “I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Morgan flushed a delightful colour then nodded. “I accept.” She walked off with an extra bounce in her step.
Edwina, who was loitering in doorway, nodded. “There are times when you are almost . . . human.” She glanced after Morgan as she disappeared through the service entrance. “Almost.”
“Nonsense. To be human, one is supposed to care.” She strolled toward Frank who was cleaning his desk. “Haye’s never lower themselves to such sentiment.” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “I’m merely protecting something useful.”
Edwina pursed her lips then studied her like she didn’t quite believe it.
Sophie headed into her office, shut the door then smiled as she ripped off the ankle monitor. Yes, useful. She threw the monitor onto her desk. Very useful indeed.