Page 54 of Eden

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice flat. Lifeless. “I don’t know, and I’ve asked myself that a thousand times. Maybe he’s a complete sociopath and Eden’s death didn’t give him the satisfaction he desired, so he still wants to punish me.” He turned his hands over, empty-handed. “It’s the best theory I’ve been able to come up with, but it doesn’t sit right. I keep thinking about the last few cases I worked for the CIA: the rogue Parisian spy, another involving the Valley Kings—both could involve retaliation, but I can’t work out how they involved Eden. She would never have gotten mixed up with people like that...” He trailed off and he shook his head. “I say things like that, but I would never have believed she was having an affair either.” He exhaled, his shoulders slumping forward.

He cleared his throat, continuing, but he sounded even more tired, more drained. “You’re too late. The note makes more sense to be linked to the Parisian spy, because that was the case that took me longer. I should’ve been home days earlier, and if I had been, maybe she would be alive. Like I said, she was still warm when I found her. I think whoever killed her knew what I was doing, and he used it to torment me.”

She mulled on that a moment, and she knew she might need the Parisian spy case’s details to solve these murders. Getting them from the CIA, though, was going to be next to impossible.

She opened her mouth to ask him one of the million questions tumbling around in her mind when Mitch walked in with a coffee tray and a box of pizza.

“You guys hungry?” he asked with absolute professionalism, like they were colleagues sitting around a table, not in a jail cell.

Bethenny had lost her appetite, but she definitely wanted that coffee.

Lachlan looked up, but he didn’t respond. Bethenny didn’t blame him for being angry that he was locked up, she’d been angry at Mitch herself.

“I’ll leave it here,” Mitch said, putting everything down beside Bethenny. “Can I speak to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” she said, standing and following him out of the cell.

“He’s going to be charged,” Mitch said heavily. “I’ll request an emergency court hearing to have him released on bail with a monitoring bracelet and two patrol cars outside his residence while we work through the evidence. It’s the best I can do.”

Bethenny’s stomach churned, even though she knew this was Mitch trying to do everything he could to help Lachlan.

“I really don’t think he did this, and I’m not being biased. He was an intelligence officer and an assassin,” Bethenny said, lowering her voice. “He knew better than to make these kinds of mistakes.”

Mitch nodded. “I agree, but... his print is on the knife, and the floor plan is in his house, and until I can prove otherwise, I have no choice but to charge him.”

She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew he was right. “He has no motive that we know of. Don’t mark him as the killer without a full investigation. We owe him that.”

“Agreed,” he said with a heavy sigh. “If we could find the body that went over the cliff and tie that person back to Jessica and Kiera, that would be the best opportunity to clear Taylor’s name. But until we know who he is—”

Just then, someone called out Mitch’s name.

Bethenny nodded. “Keep me updated,” she said, stifling a yawn. She needed to go home and get some sleep, but first she needed to finish speaking with Lachlan.

He looked up as she entered the holding cells. “What good news awaits me?” he asked without a smile.

She gave a sad smile. “You’re going to be charged, but Mitch will request bail so you can go home. You’ll be fitted with a monitoring bracelet and two patrol cars will be stationed outside your home.”

His face fell, even though she knew he must’ve been expecting this. Knowing it was coming was one thing, though—hearing it was something else entirely.

Bethenny walked toward him, wanting to wipe the anguish from his eyes. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Give us time to work this case. I’ll find out who did this and clear your name.”

“If you can’t?” he asked, tilting his head back to look at her.

She gave him the best smile she could muster. “Luckily you have the detective with a very impressive closure rate on your side.” She didn’t like to blow her own horn, but now seemed a good time for it.

He searched her eyes. “Do you believe I’m innocent?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “I just need time to prove it.”

He nodded, standing. His eyes seemed lighter, a little less stormy.

“You’ve already saved my life once,” he said, looking at her like she wasn’t real.

“You can thank God and your footprints for that,” she said.

He held her gaze. “I think God sent you to me,” he said, his voice thick. “Go. Go home and get some sleep. There’s nothing you can do here tonight, and I need your mind fresh in the morning.”

She looked past him to the metal bed, knowing he wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight. She felt bad leaving him there, but there was actually nothing she could do.

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