Page 45 of Six
“So we sit here and wait?” she complained.
“Unless you want to go riffling through his house, but you said yourself, we’re here to talk to him, not surveil the house.”
She let out a huff and Gavin chuckled.
“Any interest in helping him?” Gavin asked, though his tone made it clear that he offered only because he thought he should. She didn’t deign to answer. Five minutes later, Julian’s eyes fluttered, and he woke with a start. He jerked upright and hit his head on the coffee table. It was satisfying. Perhaps not as satisfying as being the cause of his pain, but she’d take what she could get. Especially since Gavin hadn’t yet let go of her hand, and although she was damn good at hand-to-hand combat, she wasn’t confident she could take him.
Julian rose to a sitting position, rubbing his head, his expression one of confusion. Six and Gavin continued to watch him. A few seconds later, Julian’s eyes lifted, and he caught sight of them. His brow furrowed, then his eyes widened and the color—what was left of it—drained from his face once again.
“You,” he breathed, hefting himself up from the floor and onto the couch.
Six grinned. “Yes, us. We’re still here. So,” she said, once he was seated, “Jeremy Wheaton?”
He blinked several times. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Six raised an eyebrow. “For a serial rapist and criminal, you are a remarkably bad liar.” It was a struggle for Julian to try to remain detached, but at least he didn’t pass out again.
“Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice came out something between a whisper and a croak.
Six considered showing him the video she’d uploaded to her phone but decided against it. The lawyer in her took over and the idea of burying him in a hole of his own making held far more appeal.
“Jeremy called you on Monday. You had two conversations with him. The first was over six minutes and the second, just over two. I want to know what you talked about,” she said.
Again, Julian blinked at her. Multiple times. Like someone who had something in their eye. “I, uh, I lost my phone.”
Six didn’t have any love for Julia Newcross, as she assumed the CEO of Shanti Joy knew about her husband’s proclivities. Still, she wondered how the two had ended up together in the first place. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, Six 100 percent believed that Julia was a bright woman. To have built the business she had—and to have maintained the charade as long as she had—spoke of intelligence. It also spoke of sociopathic tendencies, but those two traits weren’t mutually exclusive. How she’d ended up with man like Julian was a mystery to Six.
“Really?” Six asked. He nodded. “When did that happen?” she asked.
“Uh, Sunday?”
Six cast a glance at Gavin, whose gaze was fixed on Julian.
“How long have you been up here? In Keene?” she asked.
His gaze darted to Gavin before he answered. “Um, I don’t need to answer that. In fact, I think you should leave?”
Six laughed. It wasn’t appropriate, but she didn’t care.
“How long have you been in Keene?” she repeated.
Again, Julian’s gaze drifted to Gavin. “I, you…I mean, I think you should leave.”
“That’s not happening, Mr. Newcross,” Gavin said. “I suggest you answer Ms. Salvitto’s questions.”
Julian swallowed, his attention darting between the two. Then it shot to the foyer, visible from where they sat.
“Your security isn’t coming. And if you think we will let you make a move to call him, you are sorely mistaken,” Gavin said. His tone was one Six hadn’t heard before. His no-bullshit approach drew her attention in a way that maybe it shouldn’t have. At least not at that moment.
“We know everything, Julian…the videos, the girls, the auctions,” Six said. “We just want to hear it in your words.”
“What auction? I don’t know anything about an auction!” Julian jerked back in his seat as he answered.
Six ignored his response. It was entirely possible that Julian didn’t know about DePalma’s other activities. If she were DePalma, she woulddefinitelykeep Julian Newcross in the dark.
“Tell me about Jeremy Wheaton,” Six pressed.
Julian’s gaze darted between the two, then something caved inside him. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes shifted down and took on a vacant, defeated look. “DePalma killed him. Or had someone kill him,” Julian started. Six made a gesture with her hand for him to continue. Julian took a deep breath, leaned against the back of the couch, and shut his eyes.
