The Luna and her Quadruplet Pups by Jane Above Story

Chapter 65 Interrogation

Explaining death to four years olds is almost as difficult as watching Ethan muddle through the next few days in a complete fog, appearing more like a zombie than the man I know so well. Every time I tell the pups that Petra is gone and won’t be coming back, the message only seems to sink in for a few hours. Soon enough they’re asking me when they’re going to see Petra again, and I have to try to explain the concept of permanence to four precious beings who simply cannot understand it.

Still, watching Ethan is harder. We got through all the planning and preparations for a massive state funeral with great exhaustion and stress, but little emotion on his part. I keep waiting for him to break, to come out of shock and grieve the way he needs to so desperately. It hasn’t happened yet, and I merely pray that he will find the spark he needs before the funeral is over this afternoon.

Most of the day is a series of overly formal ceremonies and traditions, and I’m simply proud that the pups get through hours of being on their feet in stuffy clothing without a tantrum. It’s not until we’re traveling from the graveyard to the memorial service that they finally reach a breaking point, and I call in Linda for some emergency babysitting. I plan on staying with Ethan until the last mourner leaves the service, but I’m on my way back from handing the kids over to my friend when the investigator from the crime scene intercepts

It’s the same man who was at the hospital after the attack on

Paisley, and I greet him as warmly as I can, assuming he’s here to wish the family his condolences. “Ms. Carrington, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asks, pulling me aside.

“Of course.” I agree, “do you need me to make another statement?”

“Actually I have some questions for you.” He answers, more gruffly than I would have expected. “Can you do me a favor and refresh me on what your relationship is with the Alpha?”

Something inside me tells me that this isn’t just another interview, and suddenly I’m painfully aware that I did commit a few very real crimes when I faked my death and forged a new identity for myself. “Well,” I say, taking a deep breath. “We used to be in a relationship and now share our pups. I’m living with him for the next few months as part of a… I guess you could call it a custody arrangement.”

“And Elise Carrington is your legal name?” The detective presses, “because forgive me for saying so, but you bear a striking resemblance to the Alpha’s ex-wife his deceased ex-wife.”

–

Staring at the investigator long and hard, I decide to simply face this head on. “Look, how much trouble am I in here? Ethan and I split on very unfortunate terms and I did what I felt was necessary to protect myself.”

He answers simply, pulling out a notebook and pen. “I don’t care about forged papers and misdemeanors, what I do care about is whether or not you had a motive

I gape. “I… are you

one

I think you’ll find her killer was the

her alive.”

done if I was guilty

a history of aggression towards the deceased, do you not?” He presses. “Mrs. Blackwell and Eve Mechante filed assault charges against Jane

you, is it

ago, and those charges were dropped.” I remind

conflict with the victim. Can you please recount what happened on that occasion for

I state tightly, already wondering if it’s bad form to call in two favors

do you have something to hide?” The investigator

from investigative negligence.” I snap. “Why have to zeroed in on

responsible for this.”

Blackwell, Ms. Carrington – whatever name

you. As long as it’s just you and me talking, you can give me the information I need to eliminate you as a suspect, but

it looks from my end.” The increasingly infuriating detective continues. “I’ve got a woman with a known history of violence towards the deceased. You broke the law to get away from the Blackwell family and are now in some sort of custody battle with the victim’s son. We’ ve got Mrs. Blackwell’s blood all over your clothes, which we found in a trash bag in the building’s trash chute late last night, in addition to the fact that you “found the

that about my clothes?” I repeat, struggling to

we found the dress you were wearing last night, covered in blood, in the trash