Page 47 of A Corruption Dark & Deadly

"Ms. Brennan?" the male asked. He had some kind of urban accent and Annie was sure he was teased because he sounded like an Eminem wannabe.

It felt strange to hear her former last name. It had only been a couple of weeks but she was already used to being Mrs. Steel.

"Yes," she said slowly.

"My name is Handen," he continued, pulling up his oversized hoodie to reveal a gold badge clipped to his belt. "This is my partner Powell. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions?"

"Sure." She gestured at the two seats in front of her desk. "Please sit down."

Handen glanced at his partner and they both took a seat.

The pair looked completely opposite - him, tall and gangly, her, full and short. But they had an underlying chemistry between them where they could read their partner with a glance, could communicate with their eyes, and they subconsciously positioned themselves in a way that ensured the other was protected. They didn't dress like typical cops; then again, the little Annie knew about law enforcement dictated that detectives didn't actually have to wear uniforms the way patrol officers did. Either way, their clothes were definitely not business casual and that seemed to work for them.

"How can I help you?" Annie asked, folding her hands on the surface of her desk and politely looking between the two.

Again, the partners glanced at each other.

This time, Powell spoke. Her voice was smooth like a stone and low like a cello. It was soothing but serious.

"We found the body of a Ms. Gisela Gonzales," she said. "Do you happen to know who she is?"

Annie felt her entire body go still. "Well," she said slowly. "If I remember correctly, she's the woman the cops believed was responsible for my parents' deaths."

Powell nodded once. "Yes," she said. "When we found her body and ran her throughout the system, your parents' file came up. It was pretty cut and dry: hit and run DUI. She also caused some property damage and some damage to the city. When we found the car, it was already abandoned. Registration came back to her name but a different address. No one lives there. She just disappeared. We couldn't track her down."

"Luckily for you, somebody else did," Handen said, his dark blue eyes accusing her of something Annie didn't know of.

"Excuse me?" she asked, pushing her brows together. "You think it's lucky for me that the woman who allegedly killed my parents because she decided to get behind a wheel while shit-faced and somehow turns up dead a year later makes me lucky? How in the hell do you figure that?"

"My partner speaks before he thinks sometimes," Powell said, offering no apology for him. In a way, Annie appreciated that. She would rather have Handen be an asshole than if he faked sympathy. Regardless, she wasn't going to let him talk to her in a certain way, especially about her parents' deaths.

"Gonzales was murdered," Handen continued. He looked somewhat chastened but not enough to actually show he felt bad for what he said. "Someone put their hands on her throat and squeezed the life out of her. You know strangulation is an exceptionally intimate way to kill someone. You literally have to look into their eyes and watch as the life in them disappears. You really have to hate someone to do that. Or be some kind of psychopath."

Annie pressed her brows together and tilted her head. "Are you insinuating I did this to her?" she asked.

Handen stared at Annie for a long moment before slowly leaning back in his chair without breaking eye contact. “No,” he finally said. “No, it wasn’t you. Whoever did this had to be strong because Gonzales fought back. DNA has been scraped away. Whoever did do this to her knew what he was doing.”

“Then why are you here?” Annie asked, furrowing her brow and looking between both detectives. “If you don’t think it was me, why are you telling me this?”

“Don’t you care that your parents’ killer is dead?” Powell asked in her soft voice, her red eyebrows furrowed.

Annie shook her head, flicking her eyes back over to the female detective. “Not really,” she replied. “If I’m being honest, I managed to survive a year without dealing with her. I don’t care either way that she’s dead. And maybe that makes me out to be an asshole and I get that, but she took away my parents because of her selfish decision. I don’t know who killed her or why she’s dead but I know I didn’t do it.”

“Maybe you didn’t do it,” Powell agreed, “but we think you might have an idea of who did it.”

“Why would I know who did it?” Annie asked. “Only me and my brother were told who the police suspected. It’s not like I went to my friends and told them who she was. I expected you guys to do your job and bring my parents justice.”

“Right,” Handen said slowly, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward. It almost seemed like he couldn’t sit still. “You and your brother.”

“You think my brother did this?” Annie shot him a look of disbelief. “Bruce is tall, sure, but there’s no way he could take somebody’s life. The guy is a Pacifist.”

“You’re right,” Powell said. “We don’t think it was your brother. But we looked into him. Just in case. He is tall, and while his values don’t include violence, and he certainly has the strength for it. The passion would be there. The motive. But then we came across something interesting.” Her cold blue eyes found Annie’s and she held them without flinching. “Your brother works at The Red Door.”

“So?” Annie asked.

“His boss is Jericho Steel,” Handen said. There was an undertone of aggression in his voice that Annie didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t like it was her fault her brother worked for Jericho. “Crime boss and Seattle’s own billionaire.”

Annie shot Powell a look that basically asked her to help Annie translate Handen’s insinuation. “Okay,” she said slowly.