Page 75 of Bliss with a Billionaire
“And you drove…”
“My car. It’s a Porsche.”
“Of course, it is,” he said as he made a note in his folder. “Okay, you…get in your car… you’re angry–”
“That wasn’t admitted to,” Mitchell corrected.
“All right, Mrs. Harrington, please tell us…what possessed you to get into your car and drive to Mrs. Knight’s?”
Julia glanced at Mitchell who offered her a subtle nod. She cleared her throat as she launched into her explanation. “I…Lydia and I never really got along. I didn’t want that to continue.”
“So, you’re trying to tell us you were going to her place to…what? Bury the hatchet?”
“End the war,” Julia answered.
“By killing her.”
Julia shook her head as Mitchell stepped in. “She didn’t admit to that.”
The detective leaned forward, narrowed his eyes. “No, but how else do you end the war, Mrs. Harrington? Tell me.”
“I thought…she was very angry, and I thought maybe…including her or…trying to convince her of what she was doing to her former family…her own daughter would open her eyes.”
He cocked his head. “Did it?”
“It didn’t seem to,” she answered.
“So, you killed her.”
She heaved a sigh as Mitchell pressed his lips together. “You’re on dangerous ground, detective.”
“How did the conversation end?”
“We didn’t see eye to eye,” Julia answered.
“And?” he prodded. “You left? You walked away? The argument turned heated? You two got into it, it got physical?”
“Okay, these questions end now,” Mitchell said. “My client has not made an admission of guilt.”
“But she refuses to tell us anything else about the confrontation. A confrontation that could have ended Mrs. Knight’s life.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs as Mitchell fought on her behalf. She licked her lips, wondering if her story wouldn’t add up and would make things worse. Regardless, she had to press on. She had to make sure her story was convincing. She had to protect Sierra.
“What happened after the confrontation?”
Julia lifted her chin. “I got in my car, and I drove home.”
“Guilt-ridden?”
A warning glance from Mitchell stopped that line of questioning.
“Can anyone corroborate the time that you arrived at home? Which was when, by the way?”
“Around quarter after eight. My husband was there when I got home along with my sister and brother-in-law.”
“What time did you leave Mrs. Knight’s?”
“Uh, I didn’t look at the clock when I got back in the car, but…I’d estimate I was there for around twenty minutes.”
