Page 26 of Moving Target

Chapter 11

Maria tapped her thumb lightly against her thigh, a nervous gesture that only showed up when she was worried. Teag looked pale, the usual sparkle in his eyes missing entirely. The way he stared vacantly out the window and the emotionless tone of his voice concerned her. She wanted to step in and put an end to the questions before they’d even begun, but Cam, as if reading her mind, placed a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder.

“The sooner we know what he knows, the better we can protect him,” Cam said, choosing just the right words to get her to stand down.

The detectives pulled chairs next to Teag’s bed. Sandy and Annabelle Tate had been asked to step out since this was an official police interview, but Cam and Maria remained standing against the far wall. Cam Taylor wouldn’t have walked out of that room unless physically forced, but Detective Lane didn’t balk at their presence. As Teag’s security team, they needed intel too.

Teag spoke softly, his voice still hoarse from the recently removed tubes. “I met Cristina at her gallery in the arts district. Julian and I were exploring a little that afternoon since we had half a day off.”

“Julian Cross? The guitar player in your band?” Detective Lane asked.

“Yes.”

Lane nodded and scribbled a note in his pad, then gestured for Teag to continue.

“I really liked the paintings. I bought one for my sister. Cristina helped me with the purchase. We flirted a bit, and I invited her to the show. Offered her backstage passes.”

“Do you do that often?”

“Yeah, we invite a certain number of fans to parties after the shows. We sign autographs or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Lane quirked an eyebrow.

Maria frowned at the detective’s tone. Teag sighed, and his shoulders sagged. He glanced at Maria, and then quickly looked away. “I’m the only single member of the band. Sometimes I’ll invite a woman back to my room.”

“There were two women in your room.”

This time Teag looked directly at the detective and glared. “Sometimes I invite two women back to my room.”

Lane cleared his throat. “So you met Cristina at the gallery, invited her to the show. She brought her cousin Renata, and you invited both women to join you in your hotel room, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Had you met Cristina before you saw her at the gallery?”

“No. My band had only just got into town.”

Lane scribbled again in his notebook. “Had you met Renata before the show?”

Teag looked down at his hands and took in a shaking breath. “No.”

“All right, can you walk us through what happened after the party?”

“Dan Jennings, he was my personal bodyguard for the evening, walked us all up to my room. I went in, ushered the ladies inside, said goodnight to Jennings, then shut the door. I poured the three of us drinks. Renata kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed. Cristina...” Teag’s voice trailed off.

“Cristina?” Lane prompted.

Teag shut his eyes and shook his head. “Cristina undressed. I undressed. Then I went into the bathroom.”

He stopped talking, his body now visibly shaking.

“What happened next?” Lane asked, voice gentler than it had been.

“I took a piss. Washed up. Brushed my teeth. Procrastinated.” He said the last word so softly, Maria barely heard it.

Lane squinted. “Why did you procrastinate?”

“I didn’t want to follow through. I was tired. Not into it,” Teag mumbled, his eyes down.

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