Riverstar (3) (11 page)

Behind them, Annie and Drake came out of the house, putting on coats. Her brother had his cell phone in his hand, his face eerily calm whereas Annie was visibly shaking.

“I called my attorney in Seattle,” said Drake to both of them. “He recommended two defense attorneys.”

“If you need them,” said Annie, mouth trembling, her eyes
darting to the detectives. “You’re just asking questions, right? No one’s being accused of anything?”

“That’s right, Mrs. Webber. Just gathering information about the victim’s last hours.”

“Do we follow you, then?” asked Ben.

“No. We’d like you both to get in the car.”

Now Bella started to shake. Riding in the backseat of a cop car was not how she wanted to spend the morning. It was supposed to be spent making up Gennie’s face, not down at the station answering questions.

“I’ll call Peter Ball, too,” said Drake to Ben. Peter Ball was a
detective with the Seattle Force, assigned three and a half years ago to Drake’s
wife and daughter’s murder case. The two men had become close
during the horrific months that followed their deaths, both because
of Peter’s careful and detailed work on the case and his genuine
humanity and sensitivity. No one could unravel something and put it back together like Peter Ball. Bella shivered. If Drake was calling attorneys and Peter, it meant he was worried. And that made her even more afraid.

THE COP WITH CARROT HAIR
interviewed Bella at the police station in Echo Grove. The room was windowless and held only a simple table and two chairs. He sat across from her, his gaze both intense and unflinching, taking notes on a yellow tablet. They’d been together an hour already. She was hungry and the lack-of-caffeine
headache was starting, faint still, like the air right before a thunderstorm.
So far he’d asked her to tell him as accurately as possible everything she could remember about last night and she’d answered as honestly as she could.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Ben Fleck?”

She returned his gaze, unflinching. “We’re sleeping together.”

“Is this a purely physical relationship?”

“How is that relevant to anything?”

He shrugged, his hazel eyes cold. “I ask the questions here.”

She flushed, hot suddenly. How was her relationship with Ben a factor in anything? Regardless, despite her inclination to sass him, she knew for her sake and Ben’s she had to play nice. “We’re newly together. My brother’s known him forever, though.”

“And you were with him in the early part of this morning?”

“Correct. We’re both staying at my brother’s house. I left him at the bar around eleven. He returned to the house shortly after
midnight.”

“Are you sure about this?”

Bella felt dampness at the base of her neck where her curls
brushed the collar of her blouse. She put her fingers there, fluffing her curls, trying to remain calm. “Yes.”
Just tell the truth.
“I’d fallen asleep and looked at the clock when he came in.”

“And did you ask him what took him so long to return?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Carrot Cop raised his eyebrows and spoke to her in a voice dripping with disdain.

“Tiffany was throwing up and he didn’t want to leave her to die in her own vomit.”

“You really think a man like Ben Fleck held her hair while she puked for an hour?”

“Yes. He saw Tiffany was in trouble and shouldn’t drive so he stopped to help. That’s the kind of man he is. I’m quite certain he did hold her hair.” She put her fingers against her lips, watching him. There was a trace of meanness in his demeanor he didn’t bother to disguise with professionalism. He was a small man and unattractive,
with eyes that bulged and one of those mouths where his gums
showed
over large teeth every time he grimaced. And that awful orange
hair? He’d probably been tormented as a child and decided to be a cop so he could become the bully rather than the bullied.

He looked down at his notes for a moment before meeting her gaze, tapping his pen on the table. “How well do you know him, if, in your words, you’re newly together?”

“I just do.” She hesitated. How did one explain to a man like this one about a man like Ben Fleck? She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “Surely you can imagine he’d be in a rush to make it back to me. It took a kind man to stay and take care of a girl he barely knew.”

“Miss Webber, Miss Archer was raped before she was
strangled.”

The pain in her head surged then. She stared at Carrot Cop, her thoughts too jumbled to respond.

“Miss Webber?”

“If that’s the case, it means someone else was in her room after
Ben.”

“How can you be so sure about that?”

“A DNA test will prove it wasn’t Ben. That’s simple enough.” She crossed her legs under the table, feeling the soreness from being with a man after a long time without sex. There was no way Ben had raped Tiffany. She felt hopeful suddenly. A DNA test would absolve him. Surely Carrot Cop knew this? “Can I get a Diet Coke? My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“In a minute. I have a few more questions. Was Mr. Fleck acting strangely when he arrived home?”

“No. He was tired, that’s all.”

“And did you have sex?”

“Again, how is this relevant to Tiffany?”

“Again, I ask the questions. You answer them.” He spoke to her as if she were a dull-witted child.

She stifled her first response, which was to say,
yeah, dirty, hot sex the likes of which you will never have
, but instead she said only, “Yes.”

Carrot Cop got up from the table and headed toward the door. “Hold on. I’ll get you that soda.”

Halleluiah. Caffeine. Bella went to the window, looking down at
the street below. Echo Grove was another sleepy town, thirty
minutes north of River Valley but part of the same county. It was nestled in a valley as well, big in comparison to River Valley’s population of 1,420, with a population of just over 15,000. Neither of the two towns
was prepared for the momentous size of this story, she thought. The
number of people from the press that would invade these quiet
communities would be unfathomable. She could only imagine what ridiculous theories the tabloids would invent. Bella thought of the film. Would Graham and Richard continue production?

It was unlikely Richard or Graham would want to stop filming.
Tiffany had only filmed one scene in the time they’d spent on the
movie
thus far. With only two days’ worth of work, she could easily be replaced. This was Hollywood. Famous one minute, dead the next. No one would care but the fans. As Hitchcock used to say, the actors
and actresses were just talent, interchangeable on any given day in Hollywood.

Carrot Cop walked back in and set a can of Diet Coke on the
table. “I think we’re done here but we still have some questions for your boyfriend. You can wait in the lobby.”

BELLA SAT ON A BENCH
in the hallway of the station while they kept Ben for several more hours. Around three o’clock in the
afternoon he was released from questioning. His usually clean-shaven face was scruffy and his eyes blood-shot. “They wouldn’t give me anything to eat. I feel weak,” he said, falling into her arms.

“I got something for you.” She guided him onto the bench and then rummaged inside her bag for the cheese and turkey sandwich she’d bought for him from the vending machine. “Was it awful?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He bit into the sandwich, chewing quickly before taking another bite. “They kept going over the same stuff again and again, like they were trying to trip me up.”

He finished the sandwich in five bites. “Thanks for this. How are we getting home?”

“Drake and Annie are on their way.”

He turned to her, taking her hand. “How long did they question
you?”

“A couple of hours. Several intense hours.”

“Bella, I’m scared. They think I did this.”

“It’s all right.” She lowered her voice. “Listen, did they tell you
she was raped?”

“What? No.” He looked startled and then a look of
comprehension crossed his face. “They were trying to get me to admit to that. They
asked me a dozen times if I’d slept with her. I told them there was no way that girl was capable of having sex the way she was when I left her.
She was totally out of it. Not to mention it’s not exactly sexy to get
puked on.” His eyes darted to her face. “You know I didn’t do this, right?”

“Of course I do.” She put her hand on his knee. “But this is good news. Because they’ll be able to do a DNA test and prove it isn’t your sperm.”

Something like relief crossed his face. “You’re right. And that’ll
clear me.” He paused. “I guess. There are still ways they could pin it on me though. These small town cops scare me and I have the distinct feeling they’re crooked.”

“I agree. I didn’t want to say it out loud but I’m afraid you’re right.” She rose from the bench and started pacing. “You said Tiffany was talking crazy in the car. Do you remember what she said?”

He looked at her. “Yeah. I told the cops this too. She was talking about some married guy she was sleeping with. I got the impression she was talking about the director.”

Bella felt shock, right in the middle of her chest. “That’s
impossible. Richard’s a family guy. He and his wife have like a million kids, all
adopted. He’s not the type to sleep with one of his actresses.
Especially not one like Tiffany.”

“She said it was someone powerful who had a lot of influence over her career and that she didn’t even like him but that she felt like she had to keep sleeping with him. Then she started crying and carrying on and I was scrambling to find some tissue in my glove
box and it was pouring down rain and all I could think of was getting to you.” His voice broke on this last part. “Bella, this is a nightmare.” He put his hands on his knees, gazing at the floor. “If they arrest me for this I could lose my job. I’ll never recover even if it’s proven I didn’t do it.”

She kneeled beside him, the stone floor cold through her jeans. “It’s not going to get to that.” An image came to her of Tiffany that
day on the swing. They’d talked about Graham.
Someone powerful
who had a lot of influence over her career? It had to be Graham. Had he raped her? Was he capable of this?

Ben raised his head, peering into her eyes. “You won’t run away, will you?”

“I promised you last night I wouldn’t and I won’t. This will be over before you know it.” She perched between his legs and kissed him on the mouth, gently, before wrapping her arms around his
neck. They were in this embrace when they heard footsteps coming down the hall. It was Genevieve and Stefan.

Stefan had his arm around Gennie, their gazes on the floor,
talking quietly. Bella stood, calling out to them.

“Oh, guys, we’re so glad to see you,” said Gennie. “We’ve been
worried sick. They called us in around noon and before that I was frantically texting you, Bella.”

“I’m sorry. I left my cell phone in the guesthouse. They brought us here in the cop car and I forgot to grab it,” said Bella. “We’ve been here ever since.”

Ben was on his feet now as well. Stefan reached out to shake his hand. “Quite a thing,” said Stefan.

Bella watched him closely for signs of suspicion. Stefan and
Gennie barely knew Ben. Would they think he did this? But she read nothing but sympathy on Stefan’s face.

Genevieve put her arm around Bella’s waist. “We want you guys
to know we told them the absolute truth about everything that happened at the bar last night. In detail. Like actors do.”

“Thanks,” said Ben, “I appreciate it.” But his eyes were dull.

Stefan patted Ben’s shoulder. “Hey, this is going to be fine.
They’ll
figure out who did this soon enough and you can put this behind
you.”

“No good deed goes unpunished,” said Ben in a way that Bella knew was supposed to be funny but came out hollow.

Just then, Drake and Annie came down the hall, walking fast,
looking like two worried parents after a playground accident. “Oh, thank God, you’re out of there,” said Annie, reaching for Bella and pulling her into a hug. “What did they do to you guys?” She turned to Drake. “This is absolutely ridiculous. How could they keep them in there all day?”

Drake embraced Ben. Next to her brother, he looked smaller
than
he had the day before, despite the fact that he and Drake were
around the same height and build. “Don’t worry, I’ll hire the best attorney we can find if this goes any further.”

“I’m freaked, man. Really freaked,” said Ben. “These cops seem dirty.”

“I know. They’re eager to arrest someone and look like heroes,
regardless of evidence.” Drake’s eyes were steely and determined.
Bella
felt less afraid in his company. Her big brother would make sure nothing happened to Ben. “I called Peter Ball this afternoon. He’s
going to take a week off and come down.”

Ben’s shoulders relaxed. “No way? Peter’s doing that for me?”

“Yeah,” answered Drake. “He wants to help. Anyone who
knows you knows there’s no way you did this.”

“And Bella, the craziest thing? He already knew about the murder,” said Annie.

“From the news?” asked Genevieve.

“No, because Graham Rouse had already called Cleo Tanner’s agent about replacing Tiffany,” said Annie.

“Holy crap, that was fast,” said Bella. “Even for Hollywood.”
Peter’s wife, Cleo, was a former actress and had attended USC with Graham Rouse. Cleo had auditioned for the part in
Stone River
at Graham’s urging but hadn’t gotten the part because Richard had
given it to Tiffany.