Jasmine CresswelL
Suspect
For Diane Mott Davidson, who helps to make my
summers in Colorado so wonderful.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
One
Denver, Colorado, Monday, August 7
Liam Raven looked at the woman sleeping in the bed next to him and tried to remember her name. He vaguely recalled that she enjoyed snowboarding. He knew for certain that she was studying to be a nurse. Her name, however, escaped him.
He stared at the light filtering through the broken slats of the miniblinds and wondered how it came about that at thirty-five years of age—pushing thirty-six—he hadn’t found a better way to spend his nights than sleeping with a woman he never planned to see again and whose name he couldn’t remember.
His cell phone rang—his work number—saving him from delving too deeply into the murky depths of his psyche. He was grateful for the interruption. Self-analysis was guaranteed to give him nightmares but work, thank God, usually proved a reliable anesthetic.
He eased out of bed, flipping open his phone. Out of deference to the still-sleeping No-Name, he waited until he was in the living room before he responded. “This is Liam Raven.”
“Thank God I reached you. This is Chloe Hamilton.” The woman on the other end of the phone drew in an audible gulp of air but her voice still didn’t steady. “Do you remember me? I came to see you a few months ago. I asked for your help in filing for a divorce—”
“I remember you well, Mrs. Hamilton.” Even among Liam’s client roster of rich and famous Coloradans, it would be hard to forget a woman who’d won medals in four Olympic skiing events and was married to the mayor of Denver. Not to mention the fact that Chloe Hamilton had the sort of lithe, athletic body guaranteed to provoke a major case of lust in any straight guy still breathing.
“We discussed ways to keep the proceedings confidential until the decree was granted,” Liam said, letting Chloe know that he genuinely recalled their past dealings. “In the end, though, you decided to stay with your husband for the sake of your daughter. How can I help you, Mrs. Hamilton?”
“Jason’s dead,” she blurted out, her voice catching on a suppressed sob. “He’s been…murdered.”
The mayor of Denver had been murdered? Holy shit! Liam smothered the exclamation. “I’m very sorry to hear of your loss—”
“I was the person who found him. I came downstairs and he was lying on the floor in our basement media room. There was blood everywhere. All over the wall. All over the floor. God, it was terrible.” Chloe’s explanation erupted in short, staccato bursts and it sounded to Liam as if her teeth were chattering.
“There was so much blood.” Chloe’s voice faded to a whisper. “My God, there was so much blood.”
Liam spoke swiftly. “Have you notified the police? Called a doctor?” A doctor might be able to help Chloe, even if there was nothing to be done for her husband.
“The police think I killed him.” The words tumbled out, harsh with fear. “I’m sure they’re going to arrest me. I need a lawyer right away. I can’t let them take me to jail, even for a couple of nights. Sophie’s just lost…she’s just lost her father. She can’t lose me, too. She simply can’t.”
Sophie must be the name of Chloe’s daughter. Liam had never seen the child and couldn’t remember how old she was. A preschooler, he thought. Maybe three or four? He spoke quickly. “Are the police with you now?”
“Just a couple of uniformed officers guarding the crime scene and holding the reporters at bay. They’ve already taken away—” She broke off and started again. “They’ve already taken away Jason’s body.”
“Whatever you do, Mrs. Hamilton, don’t say anything to the cops. Nothing, do you hear me? If they ask your name, you’re obligated to identify yourself, but that’s it. It doesn’t matter how innocuous the police questions seem, don’t answer them. In a murder case, the spouse and immediate family of the victim are often considered suspects. Unless you have a rock solid alibi—”
“I was here all night,” Chloe said. “It must have happened…Jason must have been killed while I was sleeping.”
She’d been sleeping—unless she’d killed him, Liam reflected cynically, but he kept any trace of skepticism out of his voice. “In the circumstances, you should assume you’re currently the prime suspect, Mrs. Hamilton. It’s nothing personal on the part of the authorities. Just routine police procedure in the early stages of an investigation.”
“Their suspicions seem a lot more than routine to me.”
Yeah, well, most likely because the evidence pointed straight to her, Liam thought. However, that was beside the point. Guilty or innocent, his advice to Chloe Hamilton would remain the same: get a competent criminal lawyer and say nothing.
He spoke briskly. “In view of the fact that we’re talking about the murder of a very prominent citizen, the police department will almost certainly send one or more of their senior detectives to question you some time soon. Whatever these detectives ask—even if it’s something as simple as the date or the time of day—tell them you need to consult with your lawyer before responding. Got that?”
“Yes, I understand. But I guess it’s too late
