Page 97 of Tangled Trust

"You’re not going to do anything to harm yourself, are you? Please, don’t do anything foolish."

The thought of being a lowly criminal makes my stomach churn. But offing myself isn’t my style. I don’t know why my therapist would say something like that to me. The woman doesn’t get me. She never has. No one does. Not my mother or my brother! And it seems not even Carter understands me. Am I cursed to be an island forever? Doomed to be alone and unloved for the rest of my life?

My conversation with my therapist is interrupted by a buzz from the gatehouse. Who the hell is it?

I look at the monitor. Fuck! It’s a police car. Now what? What do they know? The officer who called earlier told me they have to ask everyone who knows Ella a few routine questions. If it’s routine, then why is he here?

"I have to go," I say into the phone and end the call.

Calm yourself, Amanda! Being hysterical isn’t going to get you anywhere good.

I answer the buzzer.

"Hello."

"Hello, this is Officer Scott. We spoke earlier."

"Yes, what is it?"

"I thought I’d escort you to the station, Ma’am. For your safety."

"My safety?"

"Yes, Ma’am. In case the people who took Ella are kidnappers. We don’t want you to be in danger."

"Oh, I see."

It never occurred to me that Sebastian might be dangerous. What if he finds out I was the one who tricked him into coming to LA? It’s a real concern. Then again, the officer could be full of shit and this is his way of tricking me into coming in for questioning.

Either way, I have no choice, it seems.

"Alright. I’ll buzz you in."

"Thank you, Ma’am."

28

AMANDA

The police car is clean and neat. I’m grateful that the cop allows me to sit in the front seat, at least. I would have put up a real stink had he even suggested I sit in the back.

We don’t speak much on the way to the station. A few pleasantries are all. I’m shaking inside, but I manage to keep myself in check. I can’t afford to give anything away. This is bullshit, anyway. I haven’t done anything wrong. I can’t be held responsible for a slighted ex’s actions.

Once at the station, I’m led to an interview room, where Scott tells me I’m to wait for a detective. The room is small and bleak. It’s my first time in an interview room, and I vow it will be my last. Awful place.

"Good day, Mrs. Moore. I’m Detective Anderson. Thank you so much for coming in."

The officer is carrying a laptop and a file.

"It’s Amanda, please. I’m in the process of changing my name back to Hammond."

"Alright."

"How can I help you, Detective?"

"As I’m sure Officer Scott has told you, we’re talking to everyone who’s acquainted with Ella Parker."

"Parker? I thought her name was Jones," I add, cementing my ignorance.

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