Page 24 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

“St. Claire.”

“With Mr. St. Claire,” he adds, jotting that down in the little notepad in his hand. From here, I can hardly make out his chicken scratch.

“That’s right,” she says.

“When was that, exactly?” Figeiro asks.

“Uhm,” Lilah says. “I don’t know. A couple weeks. Right?” She looks at me.

“Yeah, about three.”

When they write something down and don’t say anything in response right away, she says, “Can I ask what this is about?”

Upton finishes writing on his notepad, then glances up to meet Lilah’s gaze. “Steven Lewis was found murdered, Mrs. Spencer.”

Her eyes widen, mouth drops open as her hand comes up to cover it. “W-what?” she breathes out.

Damn, she’s good.

I’m so licking her pussy for this later.

“It was a brutal murder, and we’re investigating it.”

“How did this happen? Where?” She’s trembling, eyes shining with tears. “When?”

She asks all the right questions. Not doing anything to show she already knows.

“He was found in his home.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Who could have done this?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. None of the neighbors saw anything strange in the time around his death,” Upton adds, putting his notepad and pen into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“They were the ones who called it in. Said they noticed the car hadn’t moved, which wasn’t common,” Figeiro adds, his eyes narrowed on Lilah.

I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, and if I could get away with it, I’d pluck his eyeballs out for it.

“Do you know anyone who may want to hurt Steven, Mrs. Spencer?” Upton asks as he shifts on the couch.

“Oh, I don’t know. I mean, he wasn’t a very nice person,” she adds.

“How so?” Figeiro asks.

“He was abusive,” she says quietly. “To me. It’s… why I had to leave.”

“We saw the previous reports,” Upton comments. But of course they did. Lilah and I knew they’d know that. “So there is no one in particular that you know of who would want him dead?”

“Dead? No, of course not. He was a jerk, but dead? My god…” Tears fall down her cheeks and she wipes them away.

I think she may actually be upset about this, and that pisses me off. She better not be upset about this dick head being dead. This all better be a show, or there is going to be a serious problem.

They ask her a few more questions and then we see them out. When the door closes, I look at her, trying to figure this all out. She’s grinning at me.

“Did I do good?” she asks. I see the pride gleaming in her eyes.

Well, that answers that.

“So good,” I say, leaning down to pick her up and kiss her. I bring her over to the couch, the one the cops were just sitting on, tear off her bottoms and feast on her pussy until she’s crying out my name and coming on my face.

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