Page 18 of Not This Place

"Personal information," Jasper growled, leaning forward, fists clenching at his sides. His voice rose, a crescendo of indignation. "You're a damn vulture."

Rachel didn’t flinch. Her eyes, dark and relentless, held Jasper's inflamed stare. She saw beyond the anger, searching for cracks in his facade.

Ethan rose slowly from his chair. His hands were open, palms facing Jasper in a gesture of peace. He took a step forward, closing the space Rachel had left open. "Jasper," he began, his drawl wrapping around the name like a warm blanket. "We're not here to pick bones."

Jasper's breaths came hard and fast, chest heaving. The red flush on his cheeks spoke volumes, but his eyes darted to Ethan, seeking an ally, maybe finding one.

"We just want to get to the bottom of things," Ethan continued, his tone smooth and calm. "Understand what's happened. That's all."

The tension hung thick in the air, a tangible weight that seemed to press on the walls of the room. Silence stretched, punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and Jasper's labored breathing.

"Talk to us," Ethan urged, his voice steady. "Help us see it through your eyes."

Jasper's knuckles whitened around the arms of his chair. His voice, when it came, was a low growl. "You have no idea what you're meddling with."

Ethan held his ground, unflinching. The room seemed to shrink, the walls inching closer with each second that passed.

“You and Cheryl were close,” Ethan said slowly. “Then the engagement was called off. Can I ask why?”

A snarl. “You can ask. But my lawyers will give you the answers.”

“A half million,” Rachel said, scowling. Her hand slapped against the table, an echoing, tinny sound. “Explain it.”

“Explain how you go that,” he pointed.

“Flagged transaction,” Ethan said simply.

Rachel cut in, "You pay her. The next day, she ends up dead. Did you hire someone to do her in?"

“Why would I pay her if I was hiring someone?” he snapped.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you,” Rachel replied, her tone as cold as ice.

"No," he said, his gaze like flint. "The money was for services rendered."

"What services?" Rachel's question was blunt, her expression unyielding.

Jasper's mouth tightened, a stubborn line of resistance. "Business."

Rachel leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. Ethan slid back in his chair, his gaze steady on the suspect.

"Which business?"

Jasper Hargreaves looked cornered now, stripped of his usual hauteur and icy detachment. He was just a man under interrogation. His blue eyes flickered to the door as if he was expecting rescue - his legal team, perhaps. But the door remained closed. His salvation didn't come.

Though Rachel knew they had to move fast. Despite the late hour, the lawyers were on the way.

Silence fell in the room. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting an eerie glow. Jasper's face was a mask of anger, his eyes flitting back and forth between Ethan and Rachel.

"You're both out of your minds," he spat, his voice a deadly whisper. His fingers gripped tight onto the edges of the table, knuckles turning white.

Ethan leaned back in his seat, eyes never leaving Jasper. His face was unreadable, his manner calm compared to Jasper's wrath.

"Then what's your version?" Ethan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jasper faltered, lips parting, then closing again. He dropped his gaze to the table, focusing on the damning bank document lying in front of him.

"It was payment," he muttered under his breath.

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