Outfox - Page 120

“Not a frigging bit.”

“Then—”

“But answer me this. Do you honestly believe they’re going to find Jasper or his body? In a dire emergency, would your water-savvy husband have left a vessel as tricked out as that yacht? Even if their phones weren’t working, even if all fail-safe systems had failed, he wouldn’t have swapped that yacht for a damn dinghy.

“Do you actually expect him to come staggering through that door battered and bruised, embrace you, and give you an account of a harrowing experience? No. You don’t. You strike none of us as a lady who’s waiting in desperation for her missing and feared-dead husband to return.”

He jabbed the space between them with his index finger. “He took Elaine on that excursion with the intention of killing her. And he did. Deny it till hell freezes, but you know it, and so do we.”

Pressured by her own doubt, feeling the weight of their vile allegations, she hugged her elbows and sank into the chair.

Her failure to respond immediately, along with her self-protective body language, spoke volumes to Drex. Now was the time to apply the thumbscrews. He said to Gif, “Call the PD. Stall them.”

“How?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Try to get Locke. He’s tenderhearted. Tell him she’s not feeling well, that we can’t get her out of the bathroom, something. Ask him to pacify Rudkowski. Say that we’ll have her there soon. Ish. An hour at the outside.”

“Will it be an hour at the outside?”

“Remains to be seen.” Gif left the kitchen to do as instructed. Drex motioned at the box of doughnuts and said to Mike, “Take those to the officers posted outside.”

“I already took them a box of their own when I brought these.”

“Then ask them if they need a bathroom break. Water. Sodas. Tell them Mrs. Ford is currently indisposed, but we’re working on her.”

“Rudkowski won’t hold out forever.”

“Neither will Mrs. Ford if she knows what’s good for her.”

That roused her. She straightened her hunched shoulders and looked up at him. He said, “They’re champing at the bit to interrogate you. And make no mistake, that’s what today will be. One long, grueling interrogation. I suggest you be thinking of what you’re going to say.”

“I need time to—”

“You’ve had time, Talia. I gave you time last night. You’re out of time.”

“Allow me to absorb all this. Please.”

Drex considered, then said to Mike, “Buy me a few minutes with those guys outside.”

Mike limited his opinion to a harrumph and a scowl then left through the door connecting to the garage. They heard the automated door going up. Drex resumed his seat at the table. He stared at her until she squirmed and asked, “What?”

“You’re using up your minutes.”

She raised her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “It’s all so much.” She looked at the file. “So horrendous. I don’t know where to start.”

He got up from his chair and dragged it over near to hers. He straddled it backward so they were facing each other. He met her gaze directly and waited. Waited longer. Then said, “This will come as no surprise. I’ve wanted you since I first laid eyes on you.”

Her lips separated, but she didn’t say anything.

“When we were alone on the deck of Elaine’s yacht, I was staring at you, all right. Engaging in polite conversation, but in my mind all your layers of white clothing were dissolving, and I was seeing you naked and on your back in an unmade bed. During your surprise visit to the garage apartment, I honestly don’t know how I kept my hands off you. Touching your face was all I allowed myself, and it was torture. I still taste that kiss, your mouth. I want to taste you all over. I want to—”

He broke off, dropped his head forward, and finished in a rough voice. “I want to do it all.” Then he raised his head, and, in a soft but insistent voice, said, “But if you fucking lie to me now, I’ll see to it that you go to prison for a long, long time.”

She swallowed. Faintly, she said, “Everything I’ve told you is the truth. I swear it. How Jasper—that’s the only name I’ve known him by. How we met, all of it, true, Drex. Elaine was my friend. Marian. How you could think that I would…”

She had to swallow again, then recovered and faced him with a small measure of defiance. “I have fibbed to you about inconsequential things. But I am not a criminal. I never conspired to hurt anyone.”

“Okay. Okay. That still leaves us with this. The man you’re married to is a serial killer. I’ve been after him for years. I’ve crawled inside his twisted brain, put myself in his place, and it’s a hellish, diabolical place to be. I loathe it. I detest it. I don’t want to live the rest of my life inside his fucked-up head.

Tags: Sandra Brown Suspense
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