Page 163 of Collect the Pieces

“I don’t see any reason to bring him into this.”

The cop’s pen hits his notepad with a soft clunk. His jaw works but he doesn’t seem to be able to come up with a good enough reason I should give him a name.

“Did Daniel react violently to being told to leave?” he asks.

I snort even harder. “No, he reacted like all bullies act when faced with someone bigger than they are. He scurried out like a roach who’d had the overhead lights turned on.”

The older cop nods again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I seem to be confirming a lot of opinions he’s made about Daniel.

The younger cop doesn’t seem to find me as entertaining. I wipe the smirk off my face and pretend their questions aren’t a waste of my time.

“Do you know a Mrs. Ellen Baker?” the younger cop asks.

Surprise drops my jaw for a moment.

“I do,” I answer slowly. “We were contacted by her family to take her into our care and have a service for her. I had the consultation with her niece earlier this week. But we’ve run into a snag at the M.E.’s office.”

“Are you aware Daniel is the one who recommended your funeral home to the Bakers?” Investigator Thomas asks.

My heart stops.

What?

I blink and sit back. “No, I wasn’t. My father did the intake for that case. He didn’t mention Daniel had anything to do with it. The niece didn’t mention him when we spoke.”

That’s the third client Daniel’s sent our way this year.

And the police are here to ask me about it.

Holy shit!

The older detective exhales slowly, watching me carefully. “That’s the third client in the past year that Daniel has directed to your funeral home,” he says, echoing my thoughts.

My heart pounds.

“How much do you know about Daniel’s job?” the older cop asks.

“Uh, not much, honestly. He manages money for people. Retirement accounts, I think? He was always after my father to invest with him.”

“Did he?”

“Not to my knowledge.” My father may have been okay with Daniel as a son-in-law, but he didn’t trust him with his money. “Daniel wanted to manage money for me, as well. Kept trying to tell me how much I could earn if I started young. It all seemed too complicated, though.”

“Is that all?”

I purse my lips, thinking over my answer and the gut instinct I always had when Daniel harped on me about investing with his firm—No.“I might not have seen his behavior as abusive right away, but I guess I subconsciously knew he wasn’t right for me. I didn’t trust him to invest my money.”

“Did that make him angry?”

“Yes,” I answer, a surprising flood of memories washing over me. “If he wasn’t criticizing my appearance, he criticized my intellect.”

“You seem like a very bright young woman to me,” older cop says.

“Thank you.”

“Is it possible he referred these last two clients to your funeral home as a way to get back into your good graces?” younger cop asks.

I blow out a long, thoughtful breath. “I doubt it. I mean… referring someone to us makes sense. His grandmother’s funeral was here. If someone needed a recommendation, we’d be the first name he thought of. We appreciate the business, of course. But I really can’t saywhyhe’d recommend us.”

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