“I didn’t,” Williams interrupted. “Although I am curious about how you knew Cai Wen was murdered. It didn’t exactly make it to the U.S. newspapers.”
“I…” Matthew’s heart was pounding so hard, he was afraid it would explode from his chest. “We didn’t leave Hong Kong until the next day. You saw that on our passports. I must have heard or read something…”
“And conveniently forgot to mention it when we spoke? Not likely. Oh, and for the record, Cai Wen wasn’t killed until the next day—the day you left Hong Kong. So you would have had to either be at the murder scene or sitting at the Hong Kong police station to have heard about the homicide before boarding that plane. Would you care to revise your story?”
“I didn’t kill him. I’m not a murderer. I didn’t…”
“Are you covering for one of your partners?” Williams continued to drill away. “Did Leo Fox or Phil Leary kill Cai Wen?”
Matthew’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. He gritted his teeth and fought to think straight. “I want my lawyer here,” he managed at last.
“No problem.” Williams gestured toward the phone. “Give your daughter a call. I’m sure she’ll drop whatever she’s doing and rush over. Oh, would you mind finding out if she’s in the city or at her place in New Jersey? Because if she’s got an hour-plus drive, I’ll take you up on that cup of coffee.”
Leo Fox had just decided that chili red would be the perfect accent for the spare bedroom he was converting into a small home gym for Derek when the telephone rang.
“I’ll get that,” Sloane told them. Scooting across the hall to the master bedroom, she chuckled as she heard Leo explain to Derek that the chili red would “pop” and energize his workout.
Her humor was short-lived.
“Hi, Dad,” she greeted, having noted the caller ID and knowing her mother was at a breakfast meeting. “Everything okay?”
“No.” Her father sounded even worse than he had the night he’d called to tell her about the break-in. “I need you to come to the apartment right away.”
“What’s happened?” Sloane sank down on the edge of the bed, a sick feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.
“That agent from the Art Crime Team, Richard Williams, is here.” Her father’s voice dropped to a near whisper. “He knows we’re hiding information on Cai Wen’s murder. He all but accused me of killing him.”
Sloane went very still. “He just showed up on your doorstep and started grilling you?”
“Pretty much, yeah. And on the one morning you didn’t drop by. He knows I’m calling you. But I said some stupid things…I—”
“Dad, listen to me,” Sloane interrupted. “Don’t say another word to him. Just give him a cup of coffee and a seat on the sofa. Then, go into the breakfast nook. You’ll be in his sight, but you’ll have distance between you. Sit there. Keep your back to him. No eye contact. Read the newspaper. Look out the window. But don’t even glance his way. And don’t engage in any conversation whatsoever. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand.” A hard swallow. “Sloane, I’m in trouble. Please hurry.”
“I’m on my way.”
Sloane grabbed her purse. She was worried. She was badly thrown, not by what had happened, but by the timing. And she was livid.
She marched across the hall and poked her head into the room Derek and Leo were chatting in.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” For Leo’s sake, she kept herself in check. “One of my clients has an emergency. I’m going to have to take off.”
“Well, of course.” Leo looked startled and a tad disappointed. Abruptly, he brightened. “Derek and I can finish up here, and then we can arrange a follow-up for all three of us once I’ve finalized my ideas. I have some wonderful plans for this place. Oh, and I took some photos. I’ll show them to Wallace so he can coordinate the paintings he chooses for you with my design ideas.”
“That would be great, Leo. Thanks for understanding.” Sloane had no idea what he’d said, nor did she care. Her gaze was on Derek. “Can I speak to you for a moment before I take off?”
“Of course.” Derek glanced over at Leo. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Leo acknowledged with exaggerated cheer. “I’ll be jotting down notes.”
Sloane waited until she and Derek were in the front hallway, far out of earshot. Then, she spun around and faced him, eyes blazing.
“You bastard. How could you?”
“With great difficulty.” Derek issued no denial and no apology. “I hated having to divert you. But, as I told you, if it came down to protecting you or protecting your father, there’d be no choice. Not in my book. And if he’s as innocent as you say, no harm was done.” One dark brow rose. “Right?”
Without responding to the question, Sloane snatched up her coat and keys. “We’ll deal with this later,” she bit out. “In the meantime, I expect Leo to leave ten minutes after I do. You’re not taking this opportunity to get him alone and subtly assess him and how much he knows—the way you have been for the past two hours. That ends now.”