“I do. Mind?” Eve asked as she eased down at the foot of the bed.
“Of course not. I’m so grateful for your dedication.”
“Just doing my job. And doing it, I should remind you that you can have a legal rep present. I read you your rights the other day, but I can refresh you if you need it.”
“So formal. No need for that. Of course I remember. I don’t want a lawyer.” She actually patted Eve’s hand. “Ask your questions so you can go home and enjoy your own Christmas.”
“Thanks. I did speak with your doctor before I came. She’s very pleased with your progress, and expects you to make a full recovery, and hopes you can be released in just a few days.”
“It feels like a miracle.”
“I’m sure it does. I regret to inform you we have your husband in custody. He’s been charged with Trey Ziegler’s murder, with Catiana Dubois’s murder, and with the attack on you.”
“Oh God.”
“You have to be strong, Tash.” Martella gripped her sister’s hand as she turned to Eve. “Lance and I talked about this. We went over and over it because it just doesn’t seem possible. But it is. It’s the only possibility. He must have lost his mind.”
“He’s a difficult man. I understand your loyalty, Ms. Quigley—Natasha,” Eve said, and gently. “But it’s time for the truth.”
“He’s my husband. How do I accept all this? How do I accept my husband is a murderer?”
“It’s hard. It has to be really hard. But we’ve been able to put it all together. The events, the timelines, all of it.”
“JJ.” Natasha choked it out. “I tried to tell myself I was confused. It couldn’t have been . . . But why, why? Why would he hurt Catiana, why would he hurt me? Why would he kill Trey?
“Tella’s right. He lost his mind. I should have seen it, I should have gotten him help before it was too late.”
Martella slid onto the bed, drew her sister close. “Don’t blame yourself, Tash. Don’t.”
“I don’t understand it. I don’t understand any of it.”
“He knew about you and Ziegler,” Eve told her.
“Oh God. God, I knew he’d be angry if he found out, but . . .”
“He didn’t find out,” Eve corrected. “He arranged it.”
“What—”
“He paid Ziegler to sleep with you.”
“He . . .” The tears in Natasha’s eyes dried to hard embers. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he paid Trey Ziegler to initiate an affair with you, which, with Ziegler’s help, he documented in order to retain a generous financial settlement when he filed for divorce.”
“Oh, Tash.” Tella leaned in to offer more comfort. Natasha pushed her aside.
“He’s lying. JJ must be lying.”
“We have Ziegler’s records, corroborating the transactions. It was just another job for him—really lucrative since both you and your husband were, essentially, paying him for the same service. Just another way to cash in. You didn’t mean anything to him other than another body, another mark.”
“That’s not true. That’s absolutely not true.”
The flash in her eyes told Eve what she needed to know.
“He used you. Ziegler used you, and he and your husband laughed about it behind your back.”
“No. Trey cared about me.”