Page 57 of A Hidden Past

Harris smiled at him. “Pleased to meet you, sir. I’m Mick Hunley.”

Julian paled. Then he reddened. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Julian…” Clara whispered, clinging to his shoulder.

“Go inside, Clara,” Julian commanded.

“Good idea,” Lena interjected. “Let’s all go inside.”

“No,” Julian replied. “You’re not welcome in my house.”

“You don’t want to talk about the diary?”

Clara gave a little cry. The color that had just come to Julian’s face vanished. He swallowed and looked nervously around at the neighbors, staring at the scene as it unfolded.

“We can talk out here if you want,” Harris offered.

Julian shook his head. “No. Come inside.”

Lena smiled. “Wonderful. I sure do appreciate it.”

Julian fixed a look on her that drove away any doubt in Lena’s mind that he was capable of murder.

The officers followed the couple inside. Clara immediately said, “Lila didn’t know what she was talking about. She—”

“Clara, go upstairs,” Julian interrupted.

“Oh no,” Lena corrected. “Both of you stay right where you are.”

“You’re here to interrogate me,” Julian insisted. “My wife has nothing to do with this.”

“I’m here to interrogate both of you. And what exactly does your wife have nothing to do with?”

Julian realized his mistake and paled again. “Your suspicions.”

“Ah. Well, that’s where you’re wrong. I very much suspect both of you.”

Clara protested again. “She was just angry at us. We caught her using, and—”

“Clara, enough!” Julian interrupted. To the officers, he said, “This is ridiculous. Your department ruled her death an accident. Did LAPD reopen the case?”

“Why don’t we focus on the diary in which your daughter revealed her knowledge of your illegal activities with Barry Feingold?”

“No. Answer my question.”

Harris replied to that one. “Or maybe you can tell us why Barry might have had a change of heart and told us that he lied about the beach party after you told him you had an emergency and needed proof that you were at his house the day of your daughter’s death.”

Clara gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Clara, go upstairs!”

“No one’s leaving this room,” Lena said, “not until we have some answers.”

“This is an outrage,” Julian said. “We’re not answering any more questions. I’m calling my lawyer and charging the LAPD and both of you for harassment. As for the diary, that was stolen properly illegally handed to you and is nothing more than the delusions of a young woman under the influence of prescription drugs. If the information in that diary gets out to anyone, I’ll sue you for defamation. You can tell your pool boyfriend the same thing.”

“You can tell me yourself.”

Lena’s blood froze.

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