Page 37 of Overexposed

When you put it like that, it sounded pretty damn shady.

“Detective, I don’t have any insurance. Any visit I make to a hospital or to a doctor or even a doc in the box is going to be a few hundred just to have them sit there and tell me I’ve got some bruises, take some pain relievers, ice it, and have a nice day.”

I spread my hands as I shrugged. “I can’t really afford that.” Not right now. Not with Dad’s medical expenses. “So, no, I didn’t want to go to a hospital or see a doctor. Olivier—Mr. Griffiths tried to convince me to go but I refused. When I wanted to just leave, he refused to let me drive under my own steam because he wanted to make sure I was okay.”

Fuck, now even I sounded doubtful of my own story.

“You have to admit, it’s unusual for a complete stranger.” The skepticism practically dripped from his voice.

“Maybe,” I said. “Most people are raging assholes. Apparently, Mr. Griffiths isn’t. The point is, Dillon Paget attacked me. He tried to strangle me…” To make a point, I tugged my shirt collar to the side and tilted my head. “I have the bruises to prove it. He also banged my head against the trunk of my car. If Mr. Griffithshadn’tdone something, you might have a medical report from the ambulance that picked me up or the coroner.”

Okay, that was a little dramatic. Even for me.

The detective, however, seemed to take it in stride. “All right. You said you had a robbery to report as well? Was it directly related to the incident with Mr. Paget?”

“Yes—and no.” I gave him a faint smile as he raised his brows and then I explained. It took me about ten minutes to sum up everything from my equipment being locked in the trunk to what I found when I returned to my vehicle. The broken glass from the window of my car was still in the floorboard of the car.

He took notes all the way through my statement then slid me a sheet of paper and another pen. “Can you make a list of everything that was taken?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t suppose you have any photographs of the items or serial numbers?”

“I might have one for the camera, but I never took any photos of the camera equipment.”

“Everything can help. We need to see if it shows up in any of the pawn shops, so give us as much detail as you can.”

My headache had returned full force by the time I finished filling out the list. The increasing desire to pee had also invaded, but I just wanted to get this done so I could leave. The detective left me for a few minutes and typed up the report. When he came back, he had me read through it again.

The whole time the door to the room had been open, which had been nice.

“Snow,” the last person I’d expected to see said from the open doorway.

Speak of the devil himself, Olivier Griffiths stood there, looking cool and suave as he glanced from me to the detective. “What are you doing here?”

A man stood right behind him, dressed in an expensive three-piece suit.

“I’m just signing my statement,” I told him. “I told the detective what happened. I’m surprised you’re here. I explained everything to Sergeant McBride… Why are you here?”

“I came in to answer questions as I was requested,” he said, then narrowed his gaze as he glanced from me to the detective. “Why don’t you have an attorney here?”

“Because I don’t need one.” I wasn’t the suspect.

“That is not how this works, Snow,” he said in a tone that made me think he was scolding a child. “You never speak to law enforcement without an attorney present. Don’t you know they can lie to you? But you can’t lie to them?”

“I heard that somewhere,” I said, trying not to notice the fact that the detective drilled holes into the side of my head and Olivier’s.

“Peter,” Olivier said. “Would you mind staying with Miss…”

Olivier slid me a look and I just stared back at him. I wasnottelling him my name.

“Keep your secrets then, Snow,” he murmured before he looked at his attorney again. “Stay with Snow and just make sure the cops are doing everything aboveboard?”

“I can, Mr. Griffiths, provided it’s not a conflict of interest.”

Olivier grinned widely. “Not going to be a conflict at all.”

“Your attorney doesn’t have to stay,” I said. “I’m almost done.” I waved the report. “I just need to sign this.”

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