Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“But,” Davis pressed. “While it is undeniable that you didn’t kill your mother while I was at your side all night, that fact does not rule you out as a suspect.”
“What on earth are you talking about!” Christie shrieked, summoning all the rage I should be feeling. “How could you even think such a monstrous thing! Did you see—did you see—what was done to—” Christie gagged, nearly throwing up for the second time. “You s-saw what that beast did to that poor, helpless woman. No sane person had any part of that!”
“I did see what was done to Madame Kim.” Davis was the picture of calm. “And that was rage, Ms. Baudelaire. No one stabs a bedridden woman that many times for fun. Only someone who hated Madame Kim could do that, and”—that same look pinned me to the spot—“Madame Kim had twenty-eight years to fill Mrs. Kim with resentment—in the ways only a mother can.”
“Heaven help me,” Christie breathed. “What a foul way to see the world. You’re talking about a mother and her child, Officer. Do you even hear yourself!”
“I do hear myself.” Davis knelt, looking me in the eyes. “And now I need you to hear me, Mrs. Kim. Take a minute, find your strength, and then get up. You have a few hours—possibly even until the morning—before the detectives arrive. Take that time to rest, eat, call a lawyer—I don’t care. But when they come, you’d better be ready to answer all of our questions, because this time, I’m not leaving until I catch the miserable fucker that did this.”
I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT was. If I actually found my strength, or if hearing the straitlaced Davis cursing did it, but somehow, I got off the floor and let Christie lead me down to the kitchen for some water, and a too-big slice of crème brûlée cake.
She said that sugar would help with the shock, but I don’t think I was in shock. What’s shock supposed to feel like? How did anyone know for sure if they were experiencing it?
Christie was sure I was though, because I saw the third most horrific thing I’d ever seen in my life... but I hadn’t shed one tear.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Kim, don’t feel any shame over letting it out.” She pushed a cup of sweet chamomile tea at me in between squeezing the stuffing out of me. “You cry if you need to cry. I’m right here. I won’t leave you for a second.”
That was a really nice thing for her to say. Despite knowing me for only a couple weeks, she was being so supportive—making space for me and my trauma, even though I was no more than another client.
Christie was good people, but she didn’t have to go through the trouble.
No tears were coming.
I touched my cheeks, staring uncomprehendingly at my dry fingertips. I cried when Sue died accidentally, and I hated that bitch with every fiber of my soul. Why could I cry for her, but I can’t cry for my own mother after she’s brutally murdered?
No answer was forthcoming.
“Where are Micah, Rhodes, and Alex?” I asked the countertop.
“Your husbands have been invited to retire to their rooms for the night. We didn’t want you four to— What I mean is, there’s nothing for you or them to do at this stage except to let us do our jobs while we wait for the detectives to arrive,” she said. “You too should get some rest, Mrs. Kim.”
I heard the real end of her sentence loud and clear. We didn’t want you four to compare your matricide notes and get your stories straight.
“What about my guests?” I heard myself say. “Courtney? My in-laws? I have to make sure they’re okay and—”
“We will take care of everything, Mrs. Kim. No one is so heartless that they’d ask anything of you right now. Just get some sleep.” She held out her hand. “Let me take you up.”
I didn’t know what else to do, so I gave in—allowing her to take me to the bedroom currently being stripped of its laptop, computer, and even its television. Seeing as smart TVs got the capability to connect to the internet years ago, I understood the precaution. Apparently they couldn’t chance me contacting whoever I was “working with.”
“Your phone too, ma’am.”
Saying nothing, I crossed to the nightstand, stuck my hand inside, and pulled out Sue’s phone without hesitation. It disappeared into an evidence bag and was almost out the door when I said—
“Of course, I’m certain you won’t attempt to access my phone, laptop, or even my television without a warrant.” My tone was flat. Dead. “Because, just so this is clear, you do not have my permission to do otherwise.”
Two of the officers paused at the threshold—one of them the woman who’d been assigned to me by Davis.