Page 29 of Autopsy of a Fairytale

“Bel, come here, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Is this the reason you wanted to date me? So I would be oblivious to the evil coursing through your veins.”

“Bel, stop!” He lunged for her, large hands grasping for her arms, but Bel whirled on her heels and raced for the door. She was blind with terror. She had to get out. To find help.

Garrett’s heavy weight pounded behind her, and a second before she reached the exit, his hand captured the back of her shirt. With a cry of alarm, she lost her balance and plummeted to the carpet, her chest smacking hard as she fell. Garrett toppled onto her, but she kicked viciously, connecting with his shins. Her partner grunted, and she used the opportunity to scramble forward.

“Bel!” He roared, grabbing her ankle and dragging her backward. Bel was strong, her body pure power, but Garrett was larger than her, and he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him.

“Let me go!” She thrashed, but he grabbed her arms and restrained them above her head, his thighs caging her below him.

“Stop moving!” He shouted, and something in his voice froze Bel. Her muscles went rigid, and their gazes met. They stared at one another, saying nothing, only their heaving breaths polluting the air, and then Garrett seemed to register the fear in her eyes and his fingers binding her wrist.

With a curse, he scrambled off her as if she were burning coals, and Bel scurried backward like an injured crab across the floor until her spine hit the wall.

“I’m sorry.” Garret shuddered. “I am so sorry. It’s just you’re freaking me out.”

“How—”

“I didn’t do this,” Garrett forcefully interrupted her outburst. “I understand how this looks, but you know me. I could never do something like this.”

“How would I know that?” she spat. “I barely know you.”

“You know me well enough to recognize I didn’t kill those people.” He raised his hands placatingly, as if trying to calm a cornered animal. “I have no clue how those things got into my room. I swear to you, I didn’t put those there.”

“And you expect me to just believe you?”

“Yes!” He shouted, and Bel flinched. His face fell at her fear, and he ran his fingers through his still damp hair. “You were with me on the nights they happened. How could I have killed them?”

“I always left well before the time of death windows.”

“Isobel,” he said her full name softly as he crept closer. He captured her hands. She recoiled at his touch, but he held firm. “How do I convince you I’m innocent?” Bel tried to pull free from his grip, and after a few seconds, he released her. Arms still extended, he stared at his wrists before pinching them together. “Arrest me.”

“What?” Bel’s eyes flew to his.

“I swear to you. I’m not the killer. I am the guy you believed me to be. The Prince Charming who is good for you, who likes you.” He stretched his wrists out further. “Get my cuffs from my room and do this by the book. You’re a brilliant detective. You can do this. You’ll find the evidence that proves I’m innocent.” His gaze met hers, eyes brimming with sincerity. “I trust you. Arrest me.”

Bel nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Garrett remained kneeling while she pulled herself to her feet. She found his handcuffs and padded back to where he knelt, clicking them on his wrist.

“You have the right to remain silent,” she began.

“I have gloves and evidence bags in my kit, too.” Garrett gestured to the closet as soon as she finished reciting his rights. “Prove I didn’t do this. I know you will.”

Bel nodded, the life draining out of her as she collected what she needed. She took her time photographing the room and the jewelry box with her phone before dusting for prints and collecting the souvenirs. Garrett made no movements to struggle or escape. He simply knelt on the floor, patiently waiting for her. When she finished, she called Sheriff Griffin, who told her he would meet her at the station, but since it was so late, they would leave his questioning until the morning. He claimed it was because a night in jail might rattle Garrett. That the hours alone to sweat it out might loosen his tongue, but she recognized the truth behind the delay. Griffin was rattled, as was she, and if they interviewed him now, they would make mistakes. There could be no mistakes. Not with this. Garrett’s arrest and interrogation had to be by the book.

Disconnecting the call, Bel collected the evidence and fished out her keys before grabbing her partner’s arm. She took a fortifying breath, afraid to leave his apartment. The second they stepped foot outside, this would be real. There was no going back.

“It’s okay,” Garrett urged.

“I don’t want it to be you,” Bel sobbed, wiping her tears on her sleeve.

“Good.” He smiled weakly at her. “Because it isn’t me, and you are going to prove that. I have faith in you.”

“I’ll find who did this,” Bel promised. “I’ll find this killer and nail them to the wall for this. I need it not to be you. I’m praying the evidence confirms your innocence, but understand this, Garrett. If you are guilty, not even God can save you from me.”

Sleep did not comefor her. It left her abandoned and wandering the night, a ghost in the darkness.

Sheriff Griffin had met her at the station after she called him, and the sight of his blue jeans and plain tee shirt unnerved her. She had never seen him like that, a testament to how devastating her call had been. Two deputies worked the overnight shift while they booked Garrett, and Griffin threatened both of their jobs if they so much as breathed a word of this before he had the chance to address the situation. He promised to meet Bel first thing in the morning before the shift change to interview Garrett. He had then sent her home to rest before the impossible task ahead, but there was no peace. Only tears and fear. Tears that she had made a mistake accusing her partner. Fear that the first person she had opened up to after her attack was a killer.

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