Chapter 23
How can you tell if your husband is dead?The sex is the same, but you get to use the remote. ~ Text from Hailey to Suzie
“Wait,” I shout as Aiden starts driving. “How do you know where we’re going?”
He grunts. “Every cop in this city knows where the Bostwick residence is. It’s where Phillip Bostwick’s body was discovered murdered.”
It was? I shiver. How gruesome. And now his widow has to live in the same house? Although, she won’t live there long if she’s the one who murdered her husband. I know you should never believe a potential client is innocent until you’ve done some investigating, but I don’t believe Estelle is guilty. Why else would she be dead set on hiring an investigator? But what do I know anyway?
My mouth drops open when we arrive at her house, although the word house is a disservice to the place. It’s a freaking mansion on the lake. Aiden drives up to the gated entry and rings the bell.
“Hello?”
“Hailey McGraw here to see Mrs. Bostwick.” I snort at his use of my name. And he didn’t want me to come with.
“Hailey? Are you there?”
I lean across the console and shout into the metal box. “Hi, Estelle. Yes, it’s me.”
“Please. Come in.” There’s a click as she hangs up and then the gates start to open.
“I’m glad I’m dressed up and not in my holey jeans,” I mutter as we drive down the several-hundred-yards-long driveaway. Her driveway is literally larger than my front and back yard combined. I tilt my head as I study the mansion. Holy moly. The place is huge. It even has Greek columns in the front. I bet there’s a tennis court and swimming pool somewhere, too. Ah, to be rich.
The door opens and Estelle walks out wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She’s barefoot as well. Huh. Not what I expected. Not after the fashion show she’s treated me to each time she visited my office.
I reach for the door handle, but Aiden stops me. “You will follow my lead. You hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you. I’m sitting less than a foot away from you. I can hardly claim not to hear you.”
“Don’t be a smart ass. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I salute. “You’re the boss.”
“Stop being a smart ass.”
“Dude. Have you not met me? Smart ass is my middle name.” I open the door and shimmy my way out.
Aiden rushes to my side and grasps my hand in a tight grip. Someone needs to chill. Even if Estelle’s trying to get away with killing her husband, she’s hardly going to kill a cop who shows up at her door to question her. I hope.
“Ooooh.” She smiles. “This must be the guy you know.”
Aiden raises a brow in my direction. “I’ll tell you later,” I whisper.
“This is Detective Barnes. He has some questions for you. Can we come in?”
She gestures toward the open front door. “Please.”
I step into the hallway and have to remind myself it’s not polite to gape like a fish. This is not a hallway, it’s an architectural masterpiece. The bifurcated marble staircase is the center showpiece as it rises and then splits off into two smaller flights of stairs going in opposite directions. A crystal chandelier hangs above us, and the walls are decorated with paintings even I can tell are worth more money than I will earn in my entire lifetime.
“Yeah,” Estelle comments. “A lot of people have your reaction. Come on, this way please.”
I blush at being caught staring and hurry to follow her through the hallway and down a half-set of stairs to the kitchen. This part of the house has a completely different look to it. Although the kitchen has every appliance known to man, it feels lived in. There are no fancy-schmancy paintings on the walls, just comfy looking furniture. She shows us to the kitchen table, which still has the remnants of dinner on it.
“Excuse the mess. I just got the children to bed.” She picks up the plates and sets them in the sink.
“Don’t you have staff to help you?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“I gave them paid vacation after Phillip died. They need to grieve, and I need time alone with my children.” Sounds smart. “Anyway, can I get you a drink? I can make coffee or pour you something stronger if you’d like.”