Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (123 page)

“Am I a suspect?” I asked.

“No, ma’am, we’re just trying to get a
time line on everyone involved here.”

“I was out this evening, at dinner in a
crowded restaurant. Adam was with me, so neither of us were ‘involved’ in
Marjorie’s death. That will be the last question I will answer tonight and now
that you have your ‘timeline,’ I’d like to get back to Adam.” The detective
looked as if he were about to say something else, but changed his mind.

“Alright, ma’am, I’d like to get your
information in case more questions arise later?”

I gave him my cell, home, and office
numbers, and then without waiting for him to give his consent, I stood and
walked over to where Adam was still talking to the other detective. As I
approached, I heard Adam repeating almost verbatim, what I had told the other
man.

“Ms. Winston and I were at dinner, at
Romaletti’s. Are you implying that you think either of us had anything to do
with this?”

“No, sir, not at all,” the detective told
him. “I'm just trying to establish a timeline.”

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” I
interrupted. “Perhaps you can speak to Mr. Hanson tomorrow, after he’s had some
time to absorb all of this and get some rest.”

“Sure,” the detective said, although
somewhat reluctantly. “Let me just ask where I might reach you.” Adam gave him
his cell and office numbers as I had the other detective, and then he said,

“So, now will you answer my questions?
What happened to her?”

Before the detective had time to speak, a
gurney was brought out of the elevator. It carried a black body bag, and as the
attendants rolled by with Marjorie’s body, Adam looked as if he were about to
wretch. I shuddered. I had despised the woman, but the thought of her lifeless
body being inside of that bag replaced all of my hard feelings with sadness.

After the medics had rolled the gurney
outside, Adam repeated his question, “What happened to her?” This time through
his clenched teeth.

“The M.E. hasn’t made a determination yet,
but at this point we do know that it looks like she was strangled. Whether or
not that was the cause of her death remains to be seen. We’ll have more
information after the autopsy is completed.”

“And did you talk to her attorney…her
boyfriend, whatever you want to call him, Hal Rogers?”

“Yes, sir. We spoke to him as soon as we
arrived. He was the one who discovered the body.”

“I’m a little curious about how he got
into my apartment,” Adam said.

“He told us he had a key. He said the lady
was expecting him.”

Adam stood up and said, “Well, far be it
from me to tell the police how to do your job, but he’d be someone I’d be
looking into, if I were you.”

“Thanks for the advice,” the detective
said somewhat sarcastically. “I’ll be in touch.”

As he started walking away Adam said,
“Wait, can I get my things from the apartment?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible tonight
sir,” the man told him. “The crime scene techs will be a while.”

“Come on,” Adam said, taking me by the
hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

As we walked out through the lobby doors,
we saw that in the short time we had been here, the press had arrived. Standing
next to a white van, photographer at her elbow, was Rose Dugan.

We tried to hurry past as she yelled out,
“Mr. Hanson, didn’t you lose most of your assets just this morning to your
ex-wife?” and when Adam continued to walk on, pulling me along beside him she
yelled,

“Ms. Winston, would you like to make any
comment about the scuffle you were in with Mrs. Hanson this afternoon?”

I stopped and turned to look at her. I was
caught off guard by her question. Who had told her about that? Just as I looked
Rose’s way, the flash from the photographer’s camera went off in my face,
blinding me to all else going on around us.

“Baby, come on,” Adam prompted as he
tugged gently on my hand. “We’ll figure this out when we get home, let’s just
get out of here.”

Adam guided me through the sea of
reporters, and as the bulbs continued to flash and the voices all seemed to
meld into one terribly loud roar in my pounding temples, I couldn’t help but
think how surreal this all was. I had always thought, growing up, how exciting
it would be to become an attorney someday. I had never thought that someday I
would wish the excitement would just stop, and that my life could be just
average and boring like everyone else’s.

********

On the car ride home, I let my thoughts
drift back to a simpler time when I was a little girl and would spend hours in
my playhouse in the backyard. My playhouse was not like other little girl’s. My
father who often over-indulged me had seen to that. Mine was an actual house,
only on a much smaller scale than grown-up people lived in. It had a kitchen
with a real working sink, a living room, bathroom, and a bedroom. I often
pouted to my father that the bedroom may as well have been left out, since
Mother would never allow me to spend the night in the backyard. It wasn’t an
“appropriate” thing for young ladies to do, according to the Lady Winston.

I always had an active imagination as a
little girl. I could spend hours playing alone with my dolls and stuffed
animals. I was the attorney and they were the bad guys or the victims or the
judge. I knew even then what I wanted to do when I grew up. I wanted to defend
all of the innocent people who were wrongly accused or had been forced to do
things they wouldn’t have otherwise because they had been in a bad situation.

I hadn’t lost all of that idealism. I
still believed that people were inherently good. I had promised myself long ago
that if I ever lost that ideology, I would change careers. I truly believed
that people deserved a chance to either prove their innocence or explain what
kind of terrible situation they were in that had caused them to do whatever
they were being accused of. Tonight, I found myself wondering what kind of
situation the person who had killed Marjorie tonight had found him or herself
in that would cause them to take a life.

Adam and I hadn’t spoken a word to each
other on the way back to the apartment. I had been lost in my memories, and I
presumed he had been, as well. I looked over at him as he parked the car. His
face was drawn and sad, and all I wanted to do right then was hold him and make
it all go away for a little while. When we had gotten up to the apartment, I
brewed him some tea while Adam went in to build us a fire. I could hear him on
his cell phone as he arranged the logs and paper. He was talking to Mac, trying
to find out why Hal had called him and if Mac had any details other than what
we had been given tonight. As I brought the tray with the teapot and cups into
the room, I heard him saying,

“So, he called you because he knew I would
ask how he got into my house and he didn’t want to have to explain.” Adam’s
tone was disgusted. He listened quietly for a moment and then with a chuckle he
said,

“Oh yes, I’m sure he just thought the news
would be easier for me to hear coming from you. The fact is, Marjorie, as usual
had given no thought to how her giving out a key to my apartment to her
boyfriend would affect me, and at this point, it doesn’t matter anyways. I want
you there if the police question either Alicia or me again; they were treating
us like criminals tonight.” After another brief silence, he said,

“Okay, Mac, I appreciate you, thanks. I’ll
touch base with you in the morning.” After he hung up he took the cup of tea I
had poured for him and said, “I have to make one more call, babe. I’m not sure
if anyone has told Marjorie’s parents, but I should call them.”

“Of course,” I said, shuddering to imagine
how it would feel for a parent to get the news Adam was about to deliver. Adam
punched in the number and then waited. After a few moments he said,

“Sam, I’m sorry if I woke you, it’s Adam.”

I could tell that Marjorie’s father was
asking him how things were going. Adam looked almost green as he said, “Sam,
I’m sorry, but I have some terrible news.” He took a deep breath and said,
“Marjorie is gone, Sam. Someone killed her.”

Adam spent the next twenty minutes or so
trying to answer Marjorie’s dad’s questions. He ended the call by again telling
the man how sorry he was and saying that if he or his wife needed anything,
they could call him. As he laid down the phone, he placed his head in his hands
and rubbed his fingers across his face. I went to him and put one arm across
his back and my head down close to his. With my other hand, I took his hand
from his face and laid a palm on his cheek.

We sat there like that, not speaking for
quite some time. The crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room until
our quiet reprieve was broken by the sound of my phone. I looked at the number
and although I didn’t recognize it I answered.

“Ms. Winston?” It was a man’s voice I
didn’t recognize.

“Yes?”

“This is Matt Peterson with the
Times
. I’d like to talk to you about the
murder of Marjorie Hanson.”

I hung up the phone, and as I released my
finger from the end button, it rang again. This time, I didn’t even look at the
number. I just pushed answer and yelled,

“I have no comment!” into the phone.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re
alright." It was Jack. Once again he was "popping up." “The
murder of Adam’s wife is all over the news. Are you safe, Alicia? He's not
there is he?”

“Of course, he’s here. I’m fine, Jack,
thank you for your concern.” At the sound of Jack’s name, Adam looked at me and
narrowed his eyes.

“Alicia, the newscasters are saying he is
a person of interest. If he would kill her…” I hung up. Adam was still looking
at me.

“What did he say?” Jack’s words rang out
in my head once again.
A person of
interest.
I thought my life was a mess before. Shit.

PART
THREE

CHAPTER
ONE

ALICIA

I awoke the next morning with a headache
again. This one felt like a hangover, it hurt right behind my eyes. When they
had adjusted to the morning light coming in the window, I looked over at Adam
still asleep next to me. He looked more peaceful than he had in a long time. I
didn’t want to wake him; he could enjoy his dreams a while longer. I slipped
out underneath his arm. We’d fallen asleep on the couch and the fire had died
out in the night. There was a biting chill in the room. I took the afghan off
of the back of the couch and laid it gently across Adam.

I had to get showered and dressed for my
meeting with Miles V at nine a.m. He was lucky he’d been let out on bail, but I
was still worried he would do or say something stupid and screw it up. I gave
Adam a soft kiss on his forehead and went to the kitchen to start a pot of
coffee brewing. Then, after laying out my clothes for the day, I got into a hot
shower. I just stood there under the water for a while, allowing the warm water
to release some of the tension that had embedded itself in my tired muscles. I
eventually convinced myself to finish up and get out. I was wrapping up in a
towel when I heard Alex in the next room on the phone. I peeked out to see him
changing into one of the suits he leaves at my place with the phone tucked
under his chin.

“Alex, I was with Alicia last night, I
told them that. No, I didn’t give them any more information. What was I
supposed to do? I realize that. I am an attorney, and I tell my client’s not to
speak to police without me present, but I was present. It is the same. Okay,
fine, you’re right. I won’t speak to them again without Mac. Yes, we are still
on for lunch. I will see you at noon. Alex, do you think this has anything to
do with… Okay, we’ll talk about it later.”

I stood silently as I listened to the last
part of Adam’s conversation. What did he mean by asking Alex if he thought “It”
had anything to do with… With what? I closed the door quietly and hurriedly dried
myself off and slipped into the robe I kept hanging in the bathroom. When I
opened the door to the bedroom, he was no longer there. I found him in the
kitchen pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hi,” he said with a smile when he saw me.
“You want coffee?”

“Yes, please.” His smile took me somewhat
aback at first, but I was glad to see it.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as he
handed me a mug.