Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(34)

“Sure, come on in.”

Shelby closed the door, giving Gwen a minute (all it took) to look around the apartment. A cheap apartment, cheaply furnished, Shelby thought.

But hers.

“Isn’t this … cozy,” Gwen said in a tone that turned the word cozy into two words: a dump.

“It works for me. What brings you here, Gwen?”

“Oh, Jan! Everything is awful.” The slow, beautiful tears spilled as she pressed fingers to her trembling lips. “That—that insane Lieutenant Dallas arrested me! I spent hours in a cell because she has some sort of vendetta against me.”

“Lieutenant Dallas is one of the most, if not the most, respected officers in the NYPSD.”

“Why? Because she married some filthy rich Irishman?”

“No.” Shelby bit back the vitriol that sprang to her tongue. “Not at all.”

“You don’t understand what she’s done to me, how she treated me. She ruined my life!”

Gwen lurched forward to throw herself into Shelby’s arms, a maneuver Shelby blocked by taking Gwen’s elbow. She steered her to the chair.

“Sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“God, I don’t want water! Do you have anything to drink?”

No way she was wasting any of her meager supply of adult beverages. “Water, coffee, off-brand ginger ale.”

“Never mind, never mind.” Gwen covered her face with her hands. “I need help. I needed to come to someone who knows me, who’d understand.”

“Understand what?” Shelby asked as she took a seat on the sofa.

“That I couldn’t do all these terrible things. I had to post bail. Oh my God, when it gets out …”

“What are the charges?”

“She said I lied during interview.”

“Did you?”

“I was afraid! I was in shock.” She dropped her hands, then held them out in a plea. “I barely knew what I was saying.”

“Is that the only charge?”

“She trumped up others.” As if they were gnats, Gwen waved them away. “Leaving the scene of a crime, destroying evidence.”

“Did you leave the crime scene?”

“Jan! I found a dead body. I ran. Anybody would. I was so shocked, I just ran.”

“And destroying evidence?”

“I bought a new ’link. People buy new ’links all the time and toss their old ones. How is that a crime?”

Leaving out the key card, Shelby thought.

Shelby frowned, shooting for sober and concerned. “Those are pretty serious charges, Gwen. Do you have a lawyer?”

“Not anymore.” The hand went back to her face. “Merit, my fiancé—he was representing me. He’s broken our engagement. He told me I need to get another lawyer.”

Shelby tried switching sober and concerned for sympathetic, and hoped she pulled it off. “That’s rough.”

“I don’t know what to do, don’t know where to turn. That woman, that horrible woman threatened to charge me with Ariel’s murder. My God, Jan, my God. You know I couldn’t kill anyone.”

“Who was the victim to you?”

“She was a friend, and …” Straightening, Gwen dashed at tears. “We became close, and she wanted more. I know it was wrong, a mistake. I was unfaithful to Merit, but I had feelings for her.”

“You had an affair with her.”

“We had a relationship, one I believed was harmless, where both of us understood it couldn’t be more. But she suddenly demanded more. I told that woman Ariel and I had an argument that night, and I left. I went home. She had my building’s security feed proving I did, and I stayed home, but she’s trying to twist it all up. And now I’ve lost everything. You know how my parents are. They could cut me off like they did Trace unless I can convince them this is all a terrible mistake. And it is!”

“If you left, and stayed home, I don’t see how you left a crime scene.”

“I went back in the morning, just to talk to her—to Ariel—calmly. That’s when I found her. I just ran. I couldn’t think. I had to protect myself.”

Shelby let her eyes open wide. “You didn’t report the murder?”

“I did. I did! After I got home, and—and could think clearly again. And I could hardly tell the police I was in a relationship with Ariel with Merit right there. I knew he wouldn’t understand, that he’d turn away from me. And I was right.”

In a gesture Shelby found fascinating, Gwen covered her eyes with the back of her hand.

Did she practice in a mirror? Shelby wondered. Or was it just innate ability?

“We’ve already sent out the invitations. I have my dress, and—and everything. Now I’m humiliated, and my parents will be furious. You have to help me.”

“How?”

“You’re with the police. You could do something. Look at the files or whatever and …”

“And what? You want me to tamper with evidence?”

Now it was Gwen who waited a couple of beats. “No, of course not. But you’re right there, with the police. You’d have access.” She rose to sit on the sofa beside Shelby, took her hand. And her eyes filled with pleading.