“Smart move,” I said, the mechanics of their relationship suddenly clear. Lilla was the puppet master, and little Markie was her puppet. Whether she controlled him through simple feminine wiles or Arcadian mind control, I didn’t know. Didn’t care. “We wouldn’t want St. John to hear about your dealings with another man, would we?”
Keeping her gaze locked on mine, Lilla rose, her movements slow and elaborate, somehow making the simple act of rising a seductive dance. Her eyelids lowered in an enticing, come-hither blink. “Please,” she said on a breathy murmur. “Follow me. We will chat somewhere private, just as you wished.”
The music kicked up, filling the club with a syncopated beat and claiming the attention of the patrons. Lilla turned, flicking her luxuriant white hair over one shoulder, and strolled toward guarded double doors. Dallas followed right behind her, as if it were perfectly natural to follow a murder suspect wherever she might lead.
Were they pumping drugs through the ventilation system? I thought sarcastically. Dallas wasn’t usually this foolish. Lilla was beautiful, yes, but the only thing worthy of such blind adoration was a giant vat of fresh, steaming synthetic coffee.
Ever watchful and guarded, I remained five steps behind. When I found myself searching for the Arcadian male who’d caught my eye earlier—for reasons that had nothing to do with safety—my lips curled back involuntarily in a scowl. I was as bad as Dallas. I forced my gaze to focus straight ahead.
We were led into an empty hallway and up a flight of creaking stairs. The long, narrow corridor we entered next had dancing nymphs painted on the walls and soft, wine-colored carpet. Finally, we entered a small office. There were no windows adorning the plain white walls. A desk crowned the center, and four chairs formed a half-moon at the front. The air was clean, devoid of smoke. In fact, the air smelled faintly of dried rose petals and lavender sachet, a scent any grandmother would have applauded.
Lilla settled on the edge of the honey oak desk. No papers were on top, I noticed.
“Would you like the door open or closed?” she asked. The seductress was gone, and in her place was a polite but formal hostess.
“Closed,” I answered.
“Excellent choice.” She pushed a small button on a remote control, and the door snapped shut, cutting off all traces of music. “We are more intimate this way.”
I refused to have my back to the door, so I claimed the high-backed swivel chair behind the desk. Dallas stayed beside the entrance, just in case someone tried to enter—or Lilla tried to leave.
“Well,” Lilla said with a little laugh. She hopped off the desk and eased into one of the seats facing me. She folded one leg over the other, the action slow and sensual. “You certainly have my full attention now.”
I placed a voice recorder on the desk’s surface and pushed record. Then I waited, allowing silence to stretch around us like long fingers of ice. I wanted Lilla to wonder, even stress, about what I had to say. An old trick I’d learned my first year of duty.
“I am patient,” she said with a knowing smile. “I can wait as long as you can.”
Fine. “Did you murder William Steele?” I asked, my voice steady and clear.
Her eyes widened, and I knew she hadn’t expected me to be so direct. “Wh—what?”
“William Steele was found in an abandoned field, stripped and dead. We’re here to give you a chance to clear your name,” I lied. I truly doubted she could clear her name; she was involved somehow, some way, I just didn’t know the specifics. But I would. “So I’m going to ask one more time. Did you murder William Steele?”
“No. No, no,” she said with a shake of her head. “I did not kill William.”
“You’re going to have to prove that by giving me a detailed list of your whereabouts today.”
“I would never hurt him,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Ever.”
I arched a brow. “Ever?”
“That is right.”
I glanced to Dallas. “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it Lilla en Arr who beat the shit out of William Steele six weeks ago?”
“That’d be correct,” he answered.
Lilla’s already pale skin grew more pallid. “I do not have to respond to that. Nor do I have to answer any more of your questions.” She held out the remote, intending to open the door. I grabbed it and slammed it onto the desk.
“Let me break it down for you,” I said. “Other-worlders are allowed to live and work among humans as long as all of our laws are obeyed. The moment a law is broken, aliens lose all rights. My job is to enforce and punish. The fact that I even suspect your involvement in a human murder grants me the authority to kill you. You’re alive now only because I allow you to live.”
Silence.
Silence so thick it cast an oppressive fog throughout the room.
“I didn’t hurt him,” Lilla finally whispered, each syllable ragged and broken, giving her tone an underlying pain, a deep hurt that was totally at odds with everything I’d concluded about her. She gazed down at her hands, and locks of white hair fell forward, shielding her face. “I loved him.”
Yeah, she’d loved him so much she hadn’t looked for him or helped the police find him before he died. But I had to give two thumbs up for her performance. She deserved an Academy Award for best actress during a hunter interrogation.
“I still need that list,” I said.
“I did not murder him.”
“Where were you this afternoon?” I insisted.
“At the club.” She sighed. “I was here at the club.”
“You were here all evening? You never left? Always had someone around you?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll need names of the people you were with and the times that you were with them. And Lilla?” I added, blinking over at her. “I will verify this.”
“Then you will find I have spoken the truth.” Without glancing my way, she clicked off the names and times I wanted.
“I did love him,” she said, almost absently. “He simply would not listen to my warnings. I tried to force him to my will that night, but he refused to heed me. I used physical force, yes, but I did not mean to hurt him.”
“What were you trying to force him to do?” Give people enough rope and they’ll hang themselves.
She eased up, her hands wringing together. “I tried to make him leave. He thought he could handle them. He thought, as all humans do,” she added bitterly, “that nothing bad could happen to him.”