Page 21 of Shattering Desire

CHAPTEREIGHT

Tying the sash on her silk robe, she lifted her chin and shook her head making her hair bounce around her face and shoulders. She loved herself. For years… years, she wore flannel robes hiding behind the thick material. Gavin loved her body. Oh, how he did.

She made out two suited individuals on the other side of the fancy glass-paned door. At least the unexpected guests didn’t appear to be anyone she knew. Cracking the door, she greeted, “Good morning, how can I help you?”

A petite, dark-haired female, with a horrible boy cut, introduced herself. “I’m Detective McCall, if we could bother you for a minute of your time. This is my partner, Detective Lewis.” She took a step back allowing the other person to offer his hand. A handsome, baby-faced black man reached out to her.

“I am Detective Lewis,” he stated. “We apologize for interrupting your morning, but we have a few questions.”

Questions? Okay. “Did something happen in the community? I haven’t heard or seen anything. But I’m happy to assist however I can.”

Detective McCall, purposely minimizing or camouflaging her attractiveness behind her chopped up mop interjected, “You are indeed Elaine Richards? And you are an acquaintance of Judith Long?”

“No, I don’t know Judith Long,” Lanie replied.

“But you are acquainted with Gavin Mitchell?” the detective continued.

Such an odd event. Such an odd question. “Yes,” she affirmed and almost added that he stood in the kitchen making breakfast.

Detective McCall swayed trying to see around Lanie. “Is it okay if we come inside to talk with you?”

Why? Judith Long. Gavin. Did they know each other? Had he been involved in a fender bender or something with her? Then she recalled why the name sounded familiar. A couple sitting at the bar the previous night mentioned that she shot and killed her husband, Peter Long, the morning news anchor on channel 8.

As if he sensed her angst, Gavin called to her from the kitchen. “Lanie, where are you? Come on. I said we were going to have a nice, leisurely morning.” He stepped out into the foyer holding a spatula in one hand. Eyeing her and the detectives, his smile vanished. “Let me turn off the stove,” he stated and returned to the kitchen.

“We would like to speak with both of you. Ms. Richards,” Detective McCall pressed.

Opening the door wider and inviting them inside, a dull pain started in her forehead. She didn’t want them inside. She didn’t want them there at all. Everything would change. She knew it. Her feet remained planted in the foyer as if she stepped in wet cement and it had since dried.

Gavin came from the kitchen sliding a t-shirt over his head. He had a pair of shorts on and the awareness that she only had a sexy robe on struck her.

She excused herself to change into something more formidable. As if anyone knows what to wear to an interview with detectives. She moved in slow motion. Could she stay in her room and avoid the situation altogether? Probably not.

After changing into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, she took a seat on the couch beside Gavin, he handed her a hot cup of coffee. His fingertips pressed onto hers. “I planned to tell you this morning. Please don’t go overthinking or thinking the worst. I will explain it all.” She hadn’t been overly concerned until then. She had, but she hoped for the best. He pressed his fingers on hers again. Pulsing them until she acknowledged and looked to him. “I promise, Lanie. Give me a chance,” he urged.

Not knowing exactly what he wanted or expected, she turned her focus to detectives who sat in chairs across from the couch. “What is this about? I did hear about Judith Long shooting her husband. I can’t imagine how it involves me. Or Gavin,” Lanie maintained.

Detective McCall swallowed hard, visibly swallowed hard, before leaning forward and clasping her hands between her knees. “Mr. Mitchell has confirmed what we already learned about his relationship with Mrs. Long. We believe you weren’t in any physical contact with Mrs. Long…,” she paused. Lanie became increasingly agitated. Duh. She never met Mrs. Long. Move along. Reaching for her case, McCall pulled out a manila file and placed it on the coffee table. “These pictures show why we’re interested in you.”

Gavin announced, “I will meet you for a formal interview. With my attorney.”

What were the pictures of? Had Gavin had an affair with Judith? She didn’t need to see any pictures of it.

Snatching the folder, Gavin stood and walked away. He stopped at the archway to the foyer and repeated, “I will leave with you now. I’ll call my attorney on the way.”

Detective Lewis interjected, “Your history with Judith Long isn’t a mystery. We are interested in Ms. Richards and any link she has with Judith or Peter Long.”

Lanie interjected, “I have no link with either of them. Of course, I’ve seen him on the news when I watch it. But I don’t usually watch the news. It’s all depressing. Shootings. Child kidnappings and molestations.”

“So, you have never personally met Peter Long?” asked Detective McCall. She stood, marched over to Gavin and yanked the file out of his hand.

Why the fuck were detectives there? And why did Gavin behave as if he had something to hide?

“No. I do not know Peter Long. I don’t know Judith Long. Please tell me what is going on here,” Lanie demanded.

Extending her arm, Detective Lewis handed the file to Lanie. “Judging by your reaction, I am inclined to believe you. But once you see the images, you will understand why you are a person of interest.”

A person of interest in what? Flipping the cover, Lanie saw a picture of her and Gavin at Raphael’s. She turned the photos over. One by one. They were all of her and Gavin. The first dozen were images of him and her at the bar. The next series from Alonso’s restaurant. Some from at the beach. Some of them on the balcony at the beach house. Thank goodness none were of them having sex.