Page 159 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

Mr. Black’s eyebrow raises. “What makes you think that?”

“Mom called this morning. Eli and I went over, and her apartment had been ransacked. She didn’t say as much, but…”

“Got it.” He crouches next to Margo. “You okay?”

“Fine, Mr. Black, thank you,” she says.

“That’s a good girl.”

She looks up at the EMT hovering nearby. “When can we go home?”

“I just need a statement,” Masters answers, approaching with Eli’s dad close behind.

“A statement,” Margo repeats.

“Can this wait, Detective? They just went through a traumatic experience—”

“Which means we should go over it while it’s fresh,” Masters finishes.

I really hate that man.

“Can we do it now?” I ask.

Masters scans my body, taking inventory of my bumps and bruises. “Okay. Come with me.”

We both stand, but he waves at Margo. “No, just one at a time. That’s how this works—I get you to tell me what happened, then Margo’s version. Then Claire’s.”

I grunt, slowly releasing her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

She doesn’t react. Her attention is fixed on her hands.

He leads me to his car. “Get in.”

“The back?”

He chuckles. “No, front’s fine.”

I slide into the passenger seat, and he cranks the heat.

“So. What happened?”

I recount the events. Claire showing up on my running route, telling me about an accident. She pulled out the gun when I questioned her about a wrong turn, and… everything went downhill.

“Did you think about getting the gun away from her?”

I shrug. “I don’t know anything about firearms, sir.”

“Sir.” He chuckles. “Haven’t heard that out of an Asher’s mouth in a while.”

Time for some honesty. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“You went to Emery-Rose, right? Did you know my dad?” I have a feeling that’s the reason behind the weird anger he directed at me. Caleb Asher, son of the infamous Benjamin Asher. The expression, like father, like son exists for a reason, doesn’t it?

He sighs. “Yeah, I knew of him. I was friends with Keith.”

I sit up straight. “Keith Wolfe.”