During the past couple of weeks, she had more than enough time to consider the way they had treated her and she didn’t appreciate it. It didn’t matter who her parents were or weren’t, no one should be treated that way in the midst of a crisis. Now was as good a time for any for her breeding to rear its head.
“We have a few more questions for you… about your accident.”
“Clearly, I assumed it was about my accident. I’m not in the habit of meeting with the police otherwise.” She tilted her head back slightly, sticking her nose in the air, purveying them as though they were idiots.
Detective Daniels’ raised a dark eyebrow. “Hmm. Someone ran out of milk for her cereal this morning.”
“No, someone just had time to consider the way certain detectives treated her last time, and someone doesn’t appreciate it.”
Her tone exhibited every ounce of rich girl breeding that she could muster. Cool, unflappable, superior. It wasn’t how she felt, but there was no way they could know that. She had years of practice at exhibiting her public persona.
“Please… won’t you come in?” Exercising that practice, she was the polite hostess now, swinging the door wide open and gesturing with her arm. “Have a seat.” Polite as she was, her voice was still cool.
They both looked around the room with the practiced observation of detectives, taking in the scant furnishings, bare walls, small television, scruffy oak desk piled with paper in the corner and a hibernating, boxy computer monitor. The sheer curtains framing the open windows fluttered in the hot breeze, accenting the lack of air-conditioning.
She knew that the room screamed Minimal Living but it didn’t concern her and neither did their opinion of it. She had spent the earlier morning hours scrubbing the worn wooden floors until they shone. The little house might not be fancy, but it was lemon-scented and clean.
“We’ll stand, thanks.”
Detective Wills once again pulled out her little pad of paper as she stood in place, rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Ms. Ross, we’re not your enemies here. We’re simply trying to answer the question of who tried to kill you. Any help you can give us furthers that cause.”
The detective’s voice was sincere, even if it did lack warmth. Sydney briefly wondered if she was a lesbian. Normal women didn’t have such large biceps. Not that she cared about the woman’s sexual orientation, because she didn’t.
But she did have to concede that the detective was right. She was only hurting herself by making an enemy out of the police. Even if she did feel that they had been influenced by her parents.
“Okay,” she answered flatly. “I’ll try to remember as much as I can. But honestly, it’s just not there for me to recall. It happened so fast that I really didn’t see anything.”
Detective Daniels’ stepped forward. “Actually, we’re not here to ask about your accident. We’re here to ask you some questions about your relationship with Christian Price.”
Surprise filtered through her, although she didn’t know why. She should be used to it, at any rate. She had been surprised a hundred times in the past six months. Beginning with her pregnancy. That had been a big one. This was nothing compared to that.
“Christian? What about him? We dated for a few months. Obviously, we had a sexual relationship. I’ve known him since our Freshman year. He didn’t want to be a dad, so we broke up.”
“How long would you say your relationship lasted? Exactly.” Detective Daniels’ bright blue eyes studied her carefully, interested in her answer.
“Well, let’s see.” She counted in her head. “I guess maybe six months or so. Maybe a little less.”
“Well, see, that’s where we’re confused. Mr. Price stated that you didn’t have an actual relationship, that you both got drunk at a party and had sexual intercourse one time.”
“What? That’s a lie. Why would he say that? We dated for months!” Shock was evident on Sydney’s face as she stared in confusion at the detectives.
“He also mentioned his belief that your baby wasn’t his.” Detective Daniels leveled his cool gaze directly at her. The statement pierced her heart and she was suddenly flustered.
“What? That’s… that’s impossible. He knew it was his. I was a virgin until him. He knew that.” Her voice wavered, no longer coolly detached. “Why would he lie?”
“Were you in the habit of getting drunk at parties, Ms. Ross?” Detective Wills stared at her with flat brown eyes. They were very unlike Stephen’s warm milk chocolate orbs.
“Of course not. You know who my parents are. Having a teenage daughter busted for underage drinking wouldn’t help my father’s re-election.”
“Did getting pregnant?” Detective Daniels’ raised his eyebrow at her again, aggravating her with his aloof judgment.
“Don’t judge me. You don’t know me at all. I don’t get drunk. Ever. The only alcohol I’ve ever had was a glass of champagne or two at my parents’ parties.”
“Your parents supplied their underage daughter with champagne?” He looked at her doubtfully, clearly having swallowed her father’s campaign rhetoric. Wholesome Family Values. What a joke.
“You have no idea what goes on at high-class parties of the powerful, Detective. At least I wasn’t in the bathroom doing blow with some of the Congressmen in attendance.”
Her voice was cool and unflustered again, every inch the socialite that she used to be.
“Touché, Ms. Ross. My apologies. And I’m not judging you. I’m just trying to get some answers. Your ex-boyfriend is claiming that he wasn’t your boyfriend at all, simply a one-night stand. Who am I supposed to believe?”
“Well, since I was the one who was plowed down in a convenience store parking lot, you should realize that I have more of a vested interest in whether or not you find out who tried to kill me. Trust me, I will always tell you the truth. I have no reason not to. I have nothing to hide.”
They stared each other down, silently daring the other to blink. She realized that he wasn’t going to back down so she chose to speak again.
“My question, detective, is why are you spending your time focusing on my pregnancy? Does it really matter if my baby’s father denies that it was his?”