Page 49 of The Professor
He couldn’t catch my gaze. He was staring at the ground as he was hauled to his feet.
“Tell me that’s not true! Tell me you had nothing to do with Mum’s death.”
He didn’t answer me and was briskly carted into the back of a police van.
“Get off me. What have I got to do with this?” I glared at a female officer who seemed to be in charge.
“We need to speak to you about the night your mother died.”
“What? I wasn’t home. I was on holiday. I only know what I’ve been told.”
“New evidence has come to light. All investigation avenues must be explored, and that includes your account of events. We’ve already had Vince Taylor’s.”
My eyes pricked with tears. Was this really happening? Was the grief and trauma of a year ago about to be picked apart all over again?
The next two hours of my life were awful. I was seated in a cool bare room with peeling lime-green walls. The chairs and table were bolted to the floor.
The same female officer I’d met in the park had questioned me about my father, my mother, my brother, and the events leading up to her death. I was of no use to them, I’d been in Ibiza, yachting the azure waters and dining on fresh sea bass washed down with champagne.
“Ted.” I pressed my phone to my ear. “Can you come get me?”
“Of course, where are you, Miss Chelsea?”
“At the police station.”
He was quiet for a beat, then, “You okay?”
“No, but I will be. Please, be quick.”
I needed to get out of there. I needed to be at home. Shower. I was glad Dad wasn’t going to be there. I couldn’t face him, not yet, not until I’d scratched through my thoughts.
I headed outside and breathed deep. It was going to be another hot day in the city.
Mercifully, Ted was quick, and I dropped into the back of the car and closed my eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ted asked.
“I’d rather not?” I paused. “Is Vince at the house?”
“No, Miss Chelsea. No one is at the house, and your father sent Tina home yesterday. Told her to take a few days off.”
“He did?”
“Yes, I do not know why.”
Because he’d wanted privacy while dealing with kidnappers.
I hated that he’d been in that situation because of me, that he’d been so worried about me, because he would have been, terribly. I knew he loved me.
But could I still love him if what Vince had told me turned out to be true? The police must believe it, too.
I let out a sigh then worked on controlling my breathing until I arrived back at the house.
Ted dropped me off and then took the car around to the garages. He lived in an apartment above them.
I let myself in, kicked off my shoes, then climbed the stairs, stripping the blue dress off by the time I’d reached the top. Within seconds I was under a stream of hot water, face held up to it and the scent of lavender shampoo circling me. Andrew’s face flashed before me—the expression as he’d come inside me, that exquisite moment of absolute bliss and relief.
I’d wanted for so long to see him like that, and now I had. Now I didn’t have to fantasize anymore. God, I missed him. When would I see him again? Would he be at university on Monday, lecturing as though nothing had happened? Acting for all the world like he wasn’t a violent gang member, kidnapper, blackmailer, and dominant passionate lover?
