Close to Destiny (A Magical Love Story)

Chapter 48

May 19, later

The police officer told me I had been drunk. That's why I wasn't immediately questioned and instead was brought to my room after sliding to unconsciousness next to the outline of Audrey's body.

"I wasn't drinking," I insisted, my arms folded over my chest. "The screams woke me out of a sound sleep. You saw how disheveled I looked. It's obvious I rolled right out of bed."

"You don't have to explain your drinking habits to me," the young man said. He raised a dubious eye that only succeeded in annoying me further. "As long as you aren't on the road or violent, it's your business."

Casting my gaze to the ground, I hoped to hide the expression of desperation I knew was written all over my face. His observation confirmed that I did indeed spend an evening sharing champagne with Zachary Taylor. A chill ran through my body.

I shouldn't have come back to this place. There were dozens of perfectly good ideas I could have tried to sell to Liz. Instead, I chose to step into this web that would ensnare me again. The truth of the matter was, I had probably never broken free in the first place. So maybe this wasn't my fault. Maybe I didn't have much choice but to come here and see things—whatever "things" might be—through to the end.

The line of questioning was basic and boring: Did you know this woman? Had you seen her at any point during your stay at the hotel? How did you learn about her fall? Why did you come downstairs?

My answers: No. No. (I couldn't possibly explain the truth to him.) A scream woke me up. Curiosity like everyone else.

Those were my only comments, and they must have been suitable because after jotting down a few notes, the officer stood up, shook my hand firmly and said the police most likely wouldn't need me for anything else.

"What is really going on?" my sister asked, leaning across the booth toward me.

Blanche, who was working from the firm's London office for the week, heard from Mom that I was in town. Of course, the woman's death—police wouldn't yet release her name—had already made headlines. Blanche's first thought was to pick up the phone and insist we meet for lunch.

"Why do you always think that whenever something strange happens, I'm involved? This is a murder, Blanche. What could I possibly have to do with that?"

"Ah, so you're certain it's a murder..." Her eyes studied me as I swirled my spoon in a steaming bowl of chicken soup.

"Ask it," I commanded, glaring at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what you're thinking."

She kept her mask-like expression intact, but underneath it, I could tell she was ready to turn scarlet.

"OK," she said with a sigh. "I was wondering if any of your party friends... well, if they had been partying with this drunk woman."

"And what would that have to do with it?"

"They could end up in some trouble, Kat."

"That's crazy."

"It's the law."

I pushed my bowl away.

"Why aren't you eating? I hope you're not..."

"No, I'm not having a relapse, if that's what you're wondering."

"What makes you say it was a murder, Kat?" Blanche whispered. She chewed pensively on a French fry and wouldn't let me escape her gaze.

"Doesn't it seem like an odd accident? I don't know if you've ever seen the upper floors overlooking the atrium, but the walls are pretty high. It would be difficult to lose your balance and fall over. And suicide seems highly unlikely. I should know."

"I didn't mean to bring up something painful."

"No, that's OK," I said. "I'm dealing with things now. Better than ever before—in some cases, that is."

"And in others?"

"Let's not talk about those."

"They're not releasing the name of the victim," Blanche said. "At least not yet."

I swallowed uncomfortably and studied the table.

"I guess that's to be expected," I mumbled. "Questioning hotel guests and then telling nothing."

"They questioned you?"

My cheeks felt hot. I was sure they went from pale to fire engine red in five seconds.

"Yes, but it was nothing."

"They don't question everyone, Katherine."

"Don't call me Katherine with that tone. You know I hate when you do that."

"Why did they question you?"

"I couldn't sleep well, and I heard some noise." I told my story between gulps of chicken broth, hoping the distraction of watching me eat would take her attention away from judging whether or not I was telling the whole truth.

"I threw on some clothes and walked down the hall. I couldn't exactly ignore the commotion. And then when I realized the noise was coming from downstairs, I rushed down to the atrium where the crowd was gathered. They questioned everyone in the area. Only a matter of routine, I guess."

"Did you recognize the woman?"

"That's the same question the police guy asked."

"Don't be cute."

"No, I don't know her," I lied, rolling my eyes. "Can you please stop playing cops and robbers and let me enjoy my lunch?"

I could tell Blanche wasn't too thrilled about my arrival in London, but she didn't press the issue any further. She studied my every bite, making sure I finished the entire bowl and the piece of bread on the side.

Then she wrinkled her nose and leaned across the table.

"Where's your other earring?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You've got a beautiful amethyst earring that I've never seen before on your right earlobe, but your left one is bare. Don't tell me you lost such a thing..."

My hand flew to my earlobe as my mind wandered back to the conversation with Zachary Taylor that was supposed to have been in a dream. And I was still wearing one of the dream earrings.

If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote – thank you!