Page 16 of His Impossible Heir

“You just arrived back at the hotel and found a dead body lying on the floor with a copy of your book in his hands?”

“Yes,” she sighed, exhausted, hungry, and overwhelmed. Plus, she desperately wanted to change out of this ridiculous dress! There was something poking into her back and she wanted nothing more than a soft sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of socks. A toothbrush and brush might be nice too.

“We’ve gone through your laptop, Ms. Thomas,” the detective announced, his tone hard and uncompromising. “Can you explain your search history?”

Amanda’s heart stuttered in her chest and she blinked at the two men, startled by their question. “My search history?” Someone went through her computer?

The first detective looked bored, as if he’d already made up his mind that she was guilty. “Oui, mademoiselle,” he replied with a thick French accent. “You have some…interestingtastes.” He turned to a page in the file that was growing thicker by the moment since various officers kept stepping into the interrogation room to add to the pile. “Could you explain why you were reading about poisons? And how to cut up a body with a butcher knife?”

Amanda cringed, pulling her coat closer around her shoulders again. “I’m a writer,” she explained again. She’d told them this already, but she tried to remain patient. “I write mystery novels. My stories are always gruesome in the beginning, but I slowly, carefully unwind the mystery. My last novel was about a serial killer who liked to shoot someone and then…” Her voice trailed off to nothing as she realized how her explanation might come across, and she heaved a sigh. “Well, I just…I write stories. I don’t act out those stories in real life.”

The panic was climbing up her throat now, choking her. Did these people really believe she was capable of killing someone?

“And you say you were at a gala earlier tonight as the guest of Prince Rayed el-Mitra and his wife?” The detective’s tone implied he didn’t believe her.

“Yes. Emma. Emma el-Mitra now. She’s my best friend.” Amanda leaned forward, her eyes pleading with them. “If you would just call her, or give me my phone so that I can call her, she will tell you everything. She’ll confirm my whereabouts.”

The detective wrote something down on the file, then glanced up at her. “We tried to get video surveillance of the event. Just to verify your alibi.”

She nodded, eager to get this mess over with. “Good! So, you saw me? You saw me on the security video? You know that I was there, right?”

The detective leaned back in his chair, obviously tired and irritated. “We don’t have security clearance. There were some very important people at the event last night. So your alibi for the evening is still in question.”

Amanda’s jaw dropped. For a long moment, she simply stared at the man, too terrified to react.

One of the detectives leaned forward. “There was a couple from the Dorian Hotel that came forward. They said that they’d seen you running down the hallway earlier in the evening, without your shoes.” There was a long pause and the other detective chimed in. “That doesn’t sound like an innocent person. It sounds like you were…perhaps running away?”

Amanda blinked, trying to think back to earlier tonight. Or last night? She wasn’t sure what time it was since the police officers had taken away her cell phone.

She bowed her head, struggling to think back. “A couple? Running?” She blinked, trying to remember. “Why in the world would I be running…?” She stopped, thinking back to the events of the night. Before she’d met Emma, Amanda did remember running down the hallway.

“Wait! A couple on the fifteenth floor?” she asked, waiting for one to nod their head in confirmation. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I wasn’t running away from a crime scene,” she explained, trying to be clear. “I was running to meet my friend, Emma. There are security issues. As I’ve already told you, she’s married to Crown Prince Rayed.” When they simply stared at her, disbelieving, she continued. “I’d just texted Emma, Princess Emma, that I would meet her at the front door. She’d texted back, saying that she and her husband were nearly there. I didn’t want her bodyguards to have to wait for me, so I took off my high heels and ran down the hallway.” She waited, looking at each detective in the hopes that they would nod with understanding.

However, the cynical expressions in their eyes indicated that the detectives weren’t convinced by her explanation.

“It wasn’t anything nefarious,” she asserted with exasperation. “I just didn’t want to put my friend, or her husband, in danger. So, I rushed down the hallway. The couple, I don’t even know who they were, seemed offended when I wouldn’t hold the elevator for them.”

“Why wouldn’t you hold the elevator?” one of them asked, shifting in his chair.

“Because they were more than halfway down the hallway and they weren’t in a hurry. I would have had to wait several minutes for them to reach the elevator!” she explained, as her frustration grew.

“What about Ms. Elissont?” the other detective asked. “She explained that you’d been acting suspicious as well.”

Amanda blinked at the men, shaking her head when they didn’t continue. “Who in the world is Ms. Elissont?”

“She’s the woman who personally checked you into your hotel.”

Once again, she was confused. She frowned, trying to remember. When she thought back, she couldn’t immediately remember checking into the hotel. Emma and Rayed’s limousine had pulled up outside. One of their guards had pulled her suitcase out of the trunk and…!

She lifted her head. “The hotel employee? A beautiful brunette?”

“I see that you remember her now. She said you appeared,” he paused, reading through his notes. “Shifty, I believe is the translation.”

Amanda sighed, shaking her head. “I’d been on a plane for more than twelve hours. I was exhausted and a mess. The woman who met me at the front of the hotel lobby was gorgeous.” Just like now, Amanda thought, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes. “I felt…pathetic standing next to her.” She rubbed her neck. “I wasn’t shifty,” Amanda argued. “I was exhausted and struggling with jet lag.” She sighed again. “I still am.”

“That’s a very convenient explanation, Ms. Thomas.”

Horrified at their disbelieving tone, Amanda whispered, “You honestly believe that I would kill a stranger?”

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