Chapter 7 Suspect Ashley
I studied James's face carefully. Something felt off about his sudden change in demeanor. The way his eyes had gone cold for that split second still bothered me.
"Of course! What else?" I shot back at James. "Who did you think it was? James, what are you trying to say?"
"Nothing. I'm just worried about you." James released his grip and packed away the medical kit with sharp, efficient movements.
"Get some sleep. Starting tomorrow, I'll drive you to and from work to keep you safe."
I watched James's retreating figure and felt a headache building behind my eyes. I couldn't let James know that Julio was back in town.
James had loved our parents deeply. He'd mourned them for months after their deaths, barely eating or sleeping. If he found out Julio had returned, he'd try to kill him without hesitation.
I couldn't let James put himself in danger again.
The next morning, James and I arrived at the law firm early. The parking garage was nearly empty, our footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. I'd barely slept, tossing and turning until I gave up at 4 AM.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Julio's face. That predatory smile. The way his hands had moved over my body like he still owned me. The memory made my skin crawl.
Julio kept haunting my thoughts, his twisted smile burned into my memory. The encounter had left me physically and mentally drained. My shoulder still ached where he'd pinned me against the car.
But apparently, others had beaten us to the office. Two police officers stood waiting in the marble lobby, their expressions grim.
"Ms. Ashley, do you recognize this man?" The detective showed me a photograph. His badge read Detective Morrison, and his partner remained silent, watching my reaction carefully.
It was a crime scene photo. The man's limbs were twisted at impossible angles, clearly broken with brutal force.Wounds covered his body, blood pooled beneath him in dark, congealed stains. Even through the photograph, I could almost smell the metallic stench of violence.
I recognized the face immediately. I'd seen him just last night, twisted with rage as he threatened me.
"I know him. Last night he rammed my car and warned me to drop a certain case." I told the officer the truth.
"Please come in. We can talk in my office." I gestured toward my private space, conscious of the curious stares from early arriving colleagues.
Too many people milled around the lobby. Being seen with police would fuel gossip for weeks. Despite their high salaries, my lawyer colleagues couldn't resist human nature's love for scandal. The secretaries were already whispering behind their hands.
They still whispered about Julio and me, even after three years. Some people never forgot a good scandal, especially one involving murder and betrayal.
"Where were you between 2 and 3 AM this morning?" The detective's cold stare felt like a probe.
His partner pulled out a notebook, pen poised.
They suspected me. The realization hit like a slap.
"I was home sleeping." I met his gaze directly, keeping my voice level.
"Can you prove that?" His tone turned aggressive, leaning forward in his chair.
This was standard pressure tactics. I dealt with police regularly and recognized the technique. Some people cracked under this kind of interrogation, confessing to crimes they didn't commit just to make the pressure stop.
But I'd done nothing wrong. The pressure meant nothing to me. I'd faced worse in courtrooms.
"Sir, I can vouch for her. We live together. We also have video doorbells." James had followed us into the office uninvited, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
James showed the officers footage from our front and back door cameras on his phone. The timestamp clearly showed both of us entering the house at 12:47 AM and never leaving.
Thank God for those security cameras. We'd installed them to prevent Matthew from wandering off when he learned to walk, but now they proved my innocence.
The police reviewed the footage, their faces still stern. Detective Morrison's jaw worked like he was chewing something bitter. If I hadn't committed murder, their leads had gone cold.
"What happened after the car accident last night? How did you leave the scene?" They pressed further. The silent partner finally spoke up.
I suddenly remembered Julio. He'd shot the attacker, standing over the bleeding man like some avenging angel from hell. I'd left him at the scene, still wearing nothing but that silk robe.
He was a psychopath. Human life meant nothing to him. I'd watched him smile while covered in my parents' blood.
Had he killed the man after I left?
But I had no proof! I didn't know how to explain this to the police without revealing everything.
"Julio Adam was also at the scene last night." James spoke up for me, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.
I looked at James sharply. He stared back, disapproval clear in his eyes. His mouth was set in a hard line.
He'd known all along that the voice on the phone had been Julio. I sighed heavily, feeling trapped. This was exactly the situation I'd hoped to avoid.
I told the police about last night's events, carefully leaving out the physical struggle between Julio and me. I described the car chase, the attack, Julio's arrival and the gunshot. Nothing more.
When they realized they'd get nothing more from me, the officers left to find Julio.
"Ashley, why didn't you tell the police everything about Julio? Are you protecting him? Do you still love him?" James demanded the moment the door closed.
His eyes burned red with anger, veins standing out in his neck. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Julio murdered our parents! Have you forgotten about Alva and Emma?" James grabbed my shoulders, shaking me hard enough to make my teeth rattle. "Wake up!"
"Hey!" I patted his arm firmly. "Calm down, James! How could I still love the killer who murdered my parents?"
My words seemed to have a soothing effect. James relaxed slightly, his grip loosening, but doubt lingered in his expression like shadows.
"Then why didn't you tell them everything? Julio's obviously the killer!"
"James, I just don't want people knowing about my history with Julio." I rubbed my sore shoulders where his fingers had dug in. "Besides, I can't know what happened after I left. I drove away around midnight, and there were nearly two hours between then and the murder. Anything could have happened."
James fell silent, but his anger simmered just beneath the surface. He turned away, refusing to meet my eyes. His jaw worked silently.
I wrapped my arms around him from behind, feeling how tense his shoulders were. "James, trust me. I want Julio dead more than anyone!"
After a long moment, James whispered, "I believe you, Ashley."