“Silas. It’s the police,” I say, hurrying to him.
The doorbell rings again and someone presses their forehead to the glass panel beside the door in an attempt to see in.
Silas’s expression hardens. He puts an arm out to place me behind him and walks to the door to answer it. He opens it and stops to take in the scene.
The plain clothes man stands at the door, hands in his pockets. His jacket is pushed back, and I can see the holster of a gun.
Behind him are three of the officers and the other two stand beside their cars.
“Yes?” Silas says to the plain clothes man.
“Silas Cruz?”
Silas nods.
“I’m Detective Wells of the Boston PD. We’re going to need you to come with us.”
“Why?”
“We have some questions we’d like you to answer.”
“What questions?”
“Well, for starters, we’d like to know what you were doing at Sullivan Fox’s office last night.”
Silas is clearly taken aback. “Why?”
“Mr. Cruz, if you’ll come with us,” Detective Wells says and steps aside, gesturing to the patrol cars.
“I don’t think I will. What the hell is going on?”
Detective Wells nods to one of the police officers who steps forward, a hand to the cuffs hooked to his belt.
“What’s going on?” I cry out.
“Ophelia. Go upstairs,” Silas says, never taking his eyes off the officers as he nudges me backward. “What is this about?” he asks Wells.
“Guess you haven’t seen the news this morning.” Silas waits, and I get the feeling Wells is enjoying this. “Sullivan Fox was murdered last night.”
“What?” he asks.
My mouth falls open. I’m stunned. A look at Silas tells me we both are.
“And it looks like you, Mr. Cruz, were the last person to see him alive. Let’s go.”
“He was alive and well when I left.”
“You can answer those questions at the station.”
“Are you arresting me?”
“We need you to come downtown.”
“He didn’t kill Sly!” I jump around Silas as a policeman comes into the house.
“Ma’am, step out of the way,” Wells says when the officer hesitates, looking at him for instruction.
“Ophelia. Upstairs. Now,” Silas says.