Page 17 of End Game

Her head suddenly felt bloated, and two frustrated Ashes wavered before her eyes. She reached out to stop her world from spinning. Heard his oath and shout to the paramedics. Then . . . nothing.

Two hours later, Kayla sat in the corner of a large plush sofa located in her father’s study. Still wrapped in Ash’s jacket, she watched Gordon pace and Jillian wipe away tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Sybil and Elsie sat nearby, equally distraught.

A governor’s apparent murder was no small thing. State and local law enforcement officials of various expertise and standing cluttered the house and front lawn of her parents’ home. Thanks to Ash, the garden and gazebo had been secured before the curious could trample precious evidence.

Kayla experienced a twinge of guilt, but consoled herself that she’d been careful to retrace her steps back to Vicky.

After collecting the guests’ contact information, the police had shooed them away. As for Kayla, she was now giving her eyewitness account for the umpteenth time. Exhaustion was shutting off the lights in every cell of her barely functioning brain.

“Ms. Krowne,” the forty-something detective said. “I’m sorry to put you through this again, but I need to record your statement.”

“I understand.” Her gaze flicked up to the silent, dark-haired man looming above the seated APD detective. Ash’s features were set in grim lines and his hands were fisted beneath his crossed arms.

Ash had tried to postpone this latest interview, but the detective had been adamant about talking to her while the incident was fresh in her memory.

As if it would ever go stale. The image was seared into her mind.

At least the detective had agreed to taking her statement here, instead of the police station. She refocused on her interviewer. An attractive man, with sandy-blond hair, brown eyes, and wide shoulders. He wore a gray pressed shirt, a black tie, and slacks.

“Before you begin,” Kayla said, “can you tell me if the governor’s daughter, Linda Collier, has been notified?” Vicky’s husband had died three years ago, and she never remarried, nor did she have any romantic attachments, as far as she knew.

“Several attempts to reach Ms. Collier have been made,” Detective Damon Morgan said, “with no success. We’ll keep trying.”

Kayla frowned. Linda was notorious for never being far from her phone, especially at this time of the night. A thought occurred to her. “She’s seven and a half months pregnant. If you continue having trouble reaching her, you might try the hospital.”

Detective Morgan nodded at his rookie partner, whose sole role seemed to be taking notes.

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Morgan said, turning his attention back to Kayla. “How did you and Governor Stokes come to be in the gazebo tonight?”

“I received a text from her, asking to meet with me.”

“What time?”

“Eight thirty-three.” She’d confirmed the time during her first interview.

“What did she want to meet with you about?”

“The message didn’t say.” Sharing her thoughts on what Victoria might have wanted to speak with her about wouldn’t do anyone any good. Speculation on her part could send the police on a wild goose chase. “She never got an opportunity to tell me.”

“How did she seem to you?” Morgan asked, interrupting her rabbit hole of unknowns. “Upset? Happy? Scared?”

“I would say more anxious.”

“About what she wanted to discuss with you? Or being seen meeting with you?”

A jolt went through her body. “I-I’m not sure.”

“Do you remember seeing anyone else in the garden, on your way to the gazebo.”

She paused to think. “No, not that I recall.”

“Hear any unusual noises?”

“No.”

“Walk me through what happened the moment you entered the gazebo?”

Kayla’s stomach clenched into a tight ball, shielding itself against another emotional punch. “When I first entered, I didn’t immediately spot Vicky. She was standing against the far wall, almost as if she were?—”

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