Bad press, p.15
Bad Press, page 15
“…anything about the car?”
I tore my eyes away from Penn to look at Delaney, fighting the urge to fan myself. “Huh?”
“I said, do you remember anything about the car? Marcus says it was a black sedan. Did you see the plate at all?”
“I’m pretty sure I saw an M and a seven. It happened so fast. The engine was really loud, though.”
Delaney nodded and made a note in his notepad. “And this happened around seven forty-five?”
“That sounds right.” I looked at my watch. It was nearly ten now.
“Wait, Marcus, what time did you get there?” Delaney turned to Penn. “Before Evie came down, did you notice anyone idling in the parking lot?”
Penn’s eyebrows went up a little, and my face started to get warm again.
“I, um…” Penn cleared his throat. “We came downstairs together.”
Delaney stared at Penn, stumped. “So you got there earlier than seven forty-five?”
Another throat clearing. “I…got there last night. I, uh, stayed over.”
“Oh,” he said before he broke out into a giant smirk. “Gotcha.”
My face was on fire now. “It’s not what you think,” I blurted out. They both looked at me. “We just had a lot to drink last night, and…”
“A tale as old as time.” Delaney chuckled. “Say no more.”
Penn shot me a look, silently scolding me for making it worse, but I couldn’t stop talking. It was imperative word didn’t get around the police department that Penn and I were sleeping together.
“No, you don’t get it,” I said. “Nothing happened. He slept on the couch. Wait, I have a picture!” I began to pull out my phone, so pleased with having evidence that I didn’t realize how insane that sounded.
“You what?” Penn squinted at me, an abrupt reminder that it wasn’t normal to take photos of people while they were sleeping. I wanted to ask the doctor if it were possible to die of embarrassment.
“Um, nothing, never mind.” I jammed my phone back into my purse.
Delaney’s pen had stopped moving minutes ago, and he had a vague look on his face, his opinion on what had gone down last night clearly unchanged. Damn it. I’d worked so hard to stay squeaky clean here. I hadn’t even touched Penn, but my reputation was out the window. How was that fair?
“Oh, Marcus, you got a little lipstick…” Delaney gestured at Penn’s cheek, smirk widening on his lips.
Alarmed, Penn roughly rubbed at his face with the heel of his hand. I slumped against the wall and almost started laughing hysterically at how this just kept getting worse.
“Okay, you’re all set.” The doctor had finished stitching up Penn and slapped a bandage on him. Even he looked amused by the embarrassing situation unfolding. “Keep it clean and dry, and change the bandage twice a day.”
“Thanks,” Penn said before the doctor departed.
Delaney pulled a small plastic baggie out of his pocket and dumped the bullet into it. “Do you have any guesses on who might’ve done this?” he asked me, back to business.
I shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I sort of got an anonymous threat yesterday…”
“Marcus mentioned that,” Delaney said. “He also told me you might’ve poked the bear with a tweet last night.”
I turned to Penn. “I’m sorry.” I looked back at Delaney. “I have a list of all the people I’ve talked to about Danielle, but really it could’ve been anyone who’s reading my stories.”
“I know who it was,” Penn said as he slowly pulled his shirt back on, struggling to get his injured arm into the sleeve. I stepped forward to help him. He allowed me to support his arm, and I carefully guided it through the sleeve, having to remind myself several times not to squeeze his rock-hard bicep. “It was Hudson Davenport.”
“Penn,” I said, “you have no proof. You just don’t like him.”
“Damn right I don’t like him.” He turned to Delaney. “Not only is Hudson the prime suspect in Danielle’s disappearance, but I had to haul him off of Evie at Last Call last night. He might’ve been trying to get her to leave with him. When that didn’t work, he decided to take a different route.”
“I would not have gone home with him,” I said. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here!”
“Sounds like motive to me,” Delaney said, ignoring me. “We’ll bring him in.”
I stood there, dazed, as Penn and Delaney discussed logistics. I hadn’t thought about it, but what if Penn was right? Had Hudson been trying to seduce me last night? Reel me in with juicy details about Danielle and take me home, all so he could kill me? I shuddered.
“Well, at least one good thing came from this,” Penn said as he got to his feet.
“What’s that?”
“We’ve got enough to officially reopen Danielle’s case now.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“My client does not have to answer that.”
I crossed my arms and let out a sigh, free to make all the irritated expressions I wanted behind the safety of the two-way mirror. Penn and Delaney didn’t have that luxury and needed to have more control over their faces, but after a half hour of getting nothing from Hudson, I could tell their—well, Penn’s—patience was wearing thin.
“If your client hasn’t done anything wrong,” Penn said, “it’d be in his best interest to answer.”
Hudson just sat there, smirking. He hadn’t opened his mouth once, choosing to let his lawyer speak for him. I shouldn’t have been surprised—Hudson clearly thrived on withholding information, then doling it out at his discretion. But I thought he’d at least give Penn and Delaney a quick denial at my attempted murder. I chewed on my lower lip, worried Penn’s suspicions about Hudson were spot on.
“Mr. Davenport did not try to kill Miss Hartley this morning,” Hudson’s lawyer repeated for the third time. “He was on his way to work at the time of the shooting. He arrived at the office minutes later. He wouldn’t have had time to drive by Miss Hartley’s apartment and still make it to work on time. Not to mention, my client drives a red car, not a black one.”
Penn glared at the lawyer, fury in his eyes. I understood his frustration. Hudson’s lawyer was right; the math didn’t add up. To make matters worse, there had allegedly been security camera footage showing Hudson strolling down the hallways of Davenport Properties right after Penn got shot. An airtight alibi.
But Penn wasn’t ready to release his new nemesis yet. “Miss Hartley received an anonymous threat yesterday. I’m sure your client wouldn’t know anything about that either.”
“Of course not,” the lawyer said quickly.
“And the fact that your client made unwanted advances towards Miss Hartley the night before this incident is just a coincidence?”
“Jonathan, I think we might have to file a harassment lawsuit against the department.” Hudson finally spoke, smirk still in place. “Detective Pennington seems to have a personal vendetta against me because I took his girl out for a drink last night.”
Penn let out a humorless laugh. “If I have a vendetta against you, it’s because you murdered Danielle Livingston.”
“Marcus,” Delaney hissed, but it was too late.
“That’s it.” Hudson’s lawyer got to his feet. “We’ve cooperated, we’ve answered your questions about the shooting. I will not allow you to hurl absurd accusations. If you want to speak to my client further, you’ll need an arrest warrant.”
The lawyer looked expectantly at Hudson, but he remained seated. I could see his green eyes dancing all the way from behind the mirror.
“It’s a real shame you weren’t nicer to me, Detective.” Hudson examined his nails, tone thick with boredom. “Because I might have some information on who could be behind the shooting this morning, but now, I don’t really feel like sharing.”
“Withholding information from the police is a crime,” Penn said through gritted teeth. “One I will gladly arrest you for.”
“I meant I’m not sharing with you,” Hudson clarified. “But something tells me you’ve got Evie back there.” He pointed to the mirror. “I’ll talk to her. Alone.”
“Absolutely not,” Penn said. “Doesn’t work that way.”
I rolled my eyes and rapped my knuckles against the mirror.
Hudson’s eyes lit up. “I think that means yes.”
Penn’s jaw clenched again, but he said nothing more as he stormed out of the interrogation room. I could feel him seething the minute he walked through the door.
“I don’t want you talking to him again,” Penn said, his hands balled into fists.
“Why not? He can’t do anything here. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
Penn’s jaw and hands refused to relax.
“Penn, he’s got an alibi,” I said. “I’m sorry, but he’s not the one after me. He didn’t shoot you.”
“Just because he didn’t pull the trigger doesn’t mean he wasn’t behind it,” he grumbled.
“Let me go in there. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Penn threw his head back, but nevertheless gestured for me to follow him towards the interrogation room. He went in first to extract Delaney, but stopped again on his way out.
“Don’t even think about printing anything Hudson might tell you,” he said, voice low.
“Are you threatening me now, Detective?”
It almost made Penn smile. “I would, but I don’t think it’d make any difference.”
“You’re not as scary as you think you are,” I said, giving him a pat on the cheek before entering. Hudson sat up straighter at the sound of the door closing, and as our eyes locked, that devilish smile from last night reappeared.
“Jonathan, you can go,” Hudson told his lawyer casually.
He balked at his client. “Hudson, please. You know it’s in your best interest for me to—”
“It’s fine. She’s a friend.”
I wanted to correct Hudson that we definitely weren’t friends, but it seemed to be the only way to appease the lawyer. With one more uncertain look, he left Hudson and me alone.
“I’m glad you didn’t get hurt this morning, Evie.” Hudson's tone was borderline sincere.
“Are you?”
“Of course. You don’t really think I had something to do with it, do you?”
“Your alibi clears you.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Hudson said.
“You said you might know who’s responsible,” I said, ignoring his question.
“I have theories,” Hudson said, just as coy as he’d been last night.
“Hudson, cut the crap. Someone tried to kill me. A cop got shot. I’d really like to figure this out before they try again.”
He frowned. “I realize how serious this is. But I think you can understand my reaction to being hauled in here, just because your boyfriend doesn’t like me.”
“Make him like you, then, Hudson. Cooperate. Give us something useful. Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Hudson leaned across the table, voice low and intimate. “I don’t have any proof, but it’s got to be someone from my family.”
“Is that so?”
“Who else would want to stop you from digging?”
“Because they had something to do with Danielle’s disappearance,” I said slowly.
Hudson nodded. “I wish I could narrow it down more, but any one of them could’ve done it. Maybe they all did it together, who knows. But Mom, Dad, and Samantha all know what happened.”
“How can that be? How do they all know, but you’re in the dark? What, did you miss the family meeting when they discussed where to hide the body?”
“Evie, if this is going to work, you’re going to have to start trusting me a little more,” Hudson said. “I told you last night, I’m the black sheep. Why do you think after eight years of working for Davenport Properties, I’m still just Dad’s executive assistant? I’m a burden—a liability. They wouldn’t have clued me in to their little murder plan. I would’ve run right to the police.”
“Sure.” I eyed him doubtfully.
Hudson gave a dramatic sigh. “You’ve got to keep an open mind. Isn’t that what reporters are supposed to do? Be objective?”
“Fine,” I said. “Who shot at me this morning, then? Mom, Dad, or sister?”
“Well, I’d bet my life none of them have an alibi as good as mine,” he said with a head tilt. “Mom would’ve still been sleeping, which we all know is the world’s worst alibi. Samantha comes into work late, because she always has some hot yoga class or facial to get to; I’m sure she could’ve squeezed a drive-by shooting into her lax schedule.” Hudson paused for effect. “And Dad, usually an early riser, was late to work today. As far as I know, all of my beloved family members were unaccounted for this morning.”
I shot a quick glance at the mirror, wishing I could see what Penn thought about this. Again, I wanted to believe Hudson, but it seemed a little too convenient he was the only Davenport with an alibi.
Michael though…That was interesting. I hadn’t even met Georgina Davenport, but my instincts told me neither she nor Samantha would be shooting at me from that dark car. It was a man’s vehicle—loud and sporty.
And out of all the Davenports, Michael had the most to lose if Danielle turned out to be his secret love child. Danielle would’ve been conceived right around the same time as Samantha. Surely he wouldn’t want the public, or his wife, to find out.
“I can see it in your eyes, Evie,” Hudson said with a grin. “You’re considering a suspect who isn’t me.”
“If it was one of them,” I said, swallowing hard, “do they really want me dead? Or was this just to scare me?”
“I wish I could say. I would imagine if you keep poking around, they might try again.” A smirk spread across his lips. “Something tells me you’re not going to let this scare you off the trail, though.”
I remained silent for a few minutes. No, I wasn’t going to drop the story, but I certainly didn’t want a repeat of this morning. I’d gotten lucky, but Penn wasn’t always going to be around to push me out of a bullet’s way. Whoever did this knew where I lived, where I worked, what my car looked like…
A memory from last night flashed into my mind. Hudson had known my drink order.
I did my research. Hudson had implied he discovered my taste for rum and coke from my blog, but I’d gone back and double-checked. I’d never mentioned it.
“Here,” Hudson said, interrupting my thoughts. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, pushing it towards me. “Give me your number. I’ll let you know if anyone at home’s acting squirrelly. Try to give you a heads up if I think they might come after you again.”
I hesitated before entering my contact information into Hudson’s phone. Liar or not, it’d be a good idea to keep in touch with him—let him think we were on the same side.
“One more thing,” I added, knowing Penn could put an end to this at any moment. “You don’t happen to know what became of those DNA test results you never got to see, do you?”
“Wish I did,” Hudson said with an exaggerated, clown-like frown.
“And the love letter Danielle found, between your dad and her mom?”
Hudson threw his head back, tapping his chin as he pretended to think. I had the urge to smack him—he seemed to believe he was a guest star on a crime show instead of an actual suspect. “Sleep on it. Maybe the answer will come to you in a dream.”
I rolled my eyes. “Riddles, now?”
That must’ve been the final straw for Penn. He burst into the room, wordlessly concluding our faux interrogation.
“I guess that’s my cue,” Hudson said as he stood. “Evie, it’s been a pleasure.” He walked towards the door. “Detective Pennington, not so much.”
And then he left.
“I really hate that guy,” Penn said.
“Well, now you’ve got three new suspects to go talk to.”
“Yeah, and they’re going to lawyer up and not say shit. We need something else. The car, the gun, or at least a clear motive.”
“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you,” I said. “Speaking of work, I need to get there. Can you drop me off?”
“Until we make an arrest, consider me your personal chauffeur.” Penn strode towards the parking lot before I could even protest.
“Oh, Evie!” Grace rushed me with a hug before I could even put my things down at my desk.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said, even though I’d been nauseous since the shooting.
She stepped back and looked me up and down. “And Pennington’s okay?”
“Yeah, he got shot in the shoulder. He’s already back to work.”
“That must’ve been terrifying,” Grace said, sinking back down into her chair.
“This is all my fault.” I put my face in my hands and moaned. “I cannot believe he took a bullet for me.”
“I can. You’d just spent the night together. He obviously has feelings for you.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “Slow your roll. Nothing happened last night. We were just discussing the case, he had a little too much to drink, and he fell asleep on the couch. End of story. Him jumping in front of the shooter was just his cop instincts in action.” Or at least, that was what I was telling myself. Penn’s comment about a “real kiss” still swirled around in my head.
Grace smiled like she knew something I didn’t. “Evie, trust me. He’s into you.”
“How do you know?” I asked, suspicious now. “You’ve never even formally met him.”
Eyes wide and lips pressed together, Grace looked like she was bursting to tell me something. “Okay, do not tell him I told you this.” She lowered her voice and leaned across her desk. “But Pennington wants to ask you out. He reached out to me to get a feel for if you’d say yes or not. I guess he doesn’t want to put you in a weird spot. Kind of sweet, right?”
I stared at Grace, dumbfounded. “That…doesn’t sound like him. I mean, sure, we’ve had a couple of little moments, but I…” I tried to make this make sense in my mind, but couldn’t. Even if Penn liked me like that—which, I had to admit was possible—contacting my best friend, who he didn’t even know, didn’t seem like his style.
