Page 22 of Corrupting Ivy

He patted my arm. “Look. Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll let Agent Aguilar know you’re here to give your statement.”

“Okay.” I gave him a weak smile and followed his direction to the round tables Walter set up outside a few weeks ago to accommodate the extra amount of people.

I glanced at Randall, his expression still tight and unmoving, then took a seat. Sheriff Kennedy turned back to his discussion with him. What were they talking about? What did Randall mean when he told the sheriff it was him? Was Randall working on the investigation with the FBI?

Both men turned their glances towards me. I sagged my shoulders and rubbed my hands together beneath the table when they turned back to their private conversation.

I was always taught it was rude to talk about someone behind their back.

“Mrs. Baker?” Agent Aguilar asked as though she didn’t recognize me as someone she’d spoken to many times over the course of this investigation.

“Agent Aguilar,” I said as she took a seat in the chair across from me, then placed her thin black laptop down. “I see the government is moving up in their technology.”

She cocked her head to the side, confused just as I was by my bizarre statement. I interlaced my fingers, doing the best I could to control the shaking and sweating palms.

There was always one thing that would stand true, no matter what. Even if you weren’t guilty of something, you’d still be nervous while being interviewed by the FBI. I wiped mine on my jeans and made a mental note to breathe while thinking about the new jeans I’d have to come up with the money to buy.

She opened her laptop, tapped a few keys, then cleared her throat and adjusted her suit jacket with one hand. She had to be sweating to death in that outfit.

“Okay,” she said, “I want you to start from the beginning.”

I leaned forward, keeping my hands tucked under the table. “Can you tell me if she’s okay, first?”

Agent Aguilar lowered her gaze. “She didn’t make it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

Tightness tore through my chest as I thought about the poor girl’s family and what they must be going through. I swallowed hard, then leaned back in my seat with the sobering reminder that life was precious and it could end all too soon.

“Start from the beginning, please,” she repeated, not giving me a moment to compose myself.

“I um, uh…”

I tore my gaze from my wringing hands to find comfort in Randall. For what reason, I didn’t know. But he was staring at me over the sheriff’s shoulder, watching me while nodding in response to whatever the sheriff said.

“Take your time.”

I bit my lip and looked away from him. “There really isn’t much to tell. I was helping people with their food when she came in.” I filled her in with every detail I could remember. Right up to just before Randall dragged me out.

“And why did you leave the scene?”

“I, uh… he pulled me away.”

“And what is your relationship with Mr. Randall?”

I paused. How did I answer that? He’s a stranger that I let sleep in my home, dragged me away from a crime scene, and got naked in front of.

“He’s a friend of a friend.”

“So after you left, then what did you do?”

“I took a shower.” Grabbing my clothes in the bag that the sheriff placed beside me, I raised it so she could see. “I put my clothes in here, just in case you needed them.”

She nodded and continued clicking on her keyboard.

“Then you came back to the scene?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t speak to anyone else about this?”

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