“What about calling Isaac?” I ask. “What do we know about his reaction?”
“Nothing,” Eric says, pulling the door shut and locking up. “I’ll call him when we’re on the road.”
A minute later at most, we’re moving down the hallway with Savage and Smith front and back. We don’t take the elevator either. We head down the stairs and none of us speak during the walk to the lower level, where we exit the building. We exit a side door of the building that I didn’t even know existed and there’s an SUV waiting on us there.
Eric and I slide into the backseat of the vehicle and Savage climbs behind the wheel with Smith in the passenger seat. We have two men protecting us, despite Eric’s skill. I definitely don’t feel like anyone is dismissing the threat of the hitman, as Eric seemed to upstairs. What don’t I know right now? Because there’s something I don’t know.
I turn to Eric. “Why did Blake want you to bring me to the hospital?”
“The police have questions for both of us and I’d rather them ask there than at my apartment. Once they’re here, they’ll start taking liberties.”
“Hasn’t Blake shown them the footage of the assassin?”
“Yes,” he confirms, “but that doesn’t erase guilt. It simply offers, for all they know, that he was working with me or us.”
Us.
Oh God.
Nerves erupt in my stomach and my hand settles on my belly. “We’re suspects.” It’s not a question.
“Yes. We’re suspects.”
“But you don’t inherit anything from the Kingstons.”
“I have no idea what’s in the will.”
“You might inherit?”
“It would be just like my father to pit me and Isaac against each other, even from the grave.”
I swallow hard. I now know why I’m a suspect. “My inheritance. The Kingstons might have borrowed it, but if your father dies, it reverts back to me immediately.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Harper
No sooner do I announce the bombshell about my inheritance than Eric is pulling me around to face him, the leather of the SUV cradling us. His voice low but firm. “Don’t turn yourself into a viable suspect or the police will as well. Think about all the people that benefit from my father’s death. Isaac. Your mother. Me, perhaps. Who knows who else.”
“But I’m the one he took from. Why are you not worried about this?”
“Because it’s not that much money, Harper.”
“It’s millions. It’s a lot of money. It’s motive. You can’t trust me this much. You have to be worried about this.”
“You asked for my trust. You have it.”
“I do?”
“Yes. You do.”
“Thank you.” I cup his face. “Thank you, because this, out of all we’ve faced, is scaring me.”
“Motives are everywhere, Harper. I blame him for my mother’s death. For all we know he promised to disinherit Isaac after that warehouse incident. They could’ve fought and my father threw around that threat all the time when I lived with him.”
“To you?”
“To Isaac. He told him he’d give it all to me, a good dozen times that I remember. Don’t volunteer information and answer with as little as possible. And remember, I offered you a job and a paycheck to rival and exceed what you have now. I offered to make sure you didn’t need that trust fund.”