Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(52)

She swallowed hard.

“Can you tell if anything is missing?” Detective Gray asked.

“I wasn’t in here very often. Uhm. His desk. A chair, only I think the original chair was removed with him. The wall was painted . . . after.” It had been a lighter color, the whole room. But that wasn’t what they were asking. “He liked pens, there was an old inkwell set on his desk.” Not that they could see it under all the clutter. “I don’t know if it was here after they cleaned up the room.”

“Do you have a cleaning lady?”

“Yeah, Cindy . . .” Trina looked at Lori. “You remember her?”

“I do.”

“She comes twice a month. She’d probably know if anything was missing more than I would.”

Detective Armstrong wrote something down. “We’ll need her number.”

“It’s in the house. I’ve been trying to get ahold of her the past few days, but she hasn’t returned my calls.”

The detectives exchanged glances. Armstrong wrote a note in his small pad of paper.

Detective Gray pointed to the safe behind the tilted painting on the wall. “Do you have the key?”

“No. I didn’t have any of the safe combinations or keys.”

“Really? That’s odd.”

She shook her head. “Not necessarily. We’d only been married for a year. I didn’t see the need for that kind of thing.”

The detectives were silent. “Your husband was a wealthy man.”

“He was. He had everything to live for, it made no sense for him to kill himself.”

“So why do you think he did it?” Armstrong asked.

Lori interrupted Trina before she could answer.

“The investigation that followed Fedor’s death determined that he was distraught over his mother’s impending death. They were very close. She passed shortly after Fedor’s funeral.”

While all that was true, Trina felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end when Lori delivered the information in her lawyer voice.

Armstrong scribbled in his notebook.

“Gentlemen. If that’s all, I think it would be good for all of us to get some rest. We’ve been up for over twenty-four hours.” Lori cut everything off.

The officers exchanged looks.

Trina was too tired to figure out what had gotten up Lori’s butt.

“You’re Wade Thomas,” Detective Gray said as if he was just figuring it out.

“Yeah, we talked about this a few hours ago,” Wade said.

Trina looked up at Wade, then back to the officer talking.

“So you two are . . . dating?” he asked.

Wade opened his mouth and Lori stepped in front of him.

“Are you a fan, Detective?” Lori asked.

Gray tilted his head. “No. I’m more of a Guns N’ Roses guy. I just, ah . . . I don’t know. The man who owned all this is dead for only a year.” His eyes traveled to Trina.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Lori pushed Trina and Wade out of the room.

“You’re out of line.” Wade pointed two fingers at the detective.

Reed moved to stand beside Lori.

“Okay, everyone, relax. We’re just doing our job.” Gray looked at Reed. “You of all people should know that.”

“Yeah, I do. If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking . . . you’re digging in the wrong hole.”

Trina’s head spun while she tried to catch up on the hidden conversation running all around her.

“We’re going to go upstairs and get some sleep. If you gentlemen have any more questions, you make sure and wake both of us.” Lori pointed between herself and Trina.

Gray started to grin . . . and not the kind of grin that made you smile, but the kind that made you worry. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Very perceptive, Officer. And he’s a famous singer,” she said, pointing to Wade. “And he’s an ex-detective, and before the end of the day, you might meet the former first lady of California and a duke. Friends in this circle are seldom the gardener.”

Detective Gray stepped back. “Yes, ma’am.”

They were several feet away when Trina turned to Lori. “What the hell was that all about?”

“They were questioning you like a suspect,” Reed answered for Lori.

“What? Me? Why?” She started to turn around.

Wade redirected her toward the house. “Another time, darlin’. You need to sleep.”

Within half an hour, Trina sat curled in her bed, with Lori sitting beside her.

“I’m not guilty of anything, Lori.”

“I know that.”

“Other than not loving my husband.”

“I know that, too. But keep that to yourself, Trina. It will only raise suspicion.”

“This is all so wrong. Everything about this is just wrong,” she cried.

Lori patted her knee. “Get some sleep, even a few hours will clear your head.”

“We should be at the hospital.” Yet even as Trina said those words, she knew if she didn’t get a few hours of horizontal time, she’d only make herself sick.

Lori grasped Trina’s hands.

“What room did Wade take?”