Nick perked up. “Does that mean I can hire a—”

“No.” Harper cut him off before he’d even had a chance to get the word “stripper” out of his mouth.

Nick gave a small laugh. “S’okay. Mr. Uptight probably wouldn’t go for it anyway.”

The door opened and Ben walked back into the room. “Alessandra,” he said, his voice low. “Detective Green is here. She would like to take your statement. I told her this wasn’t a good time, but . . .”

“Did you listen to the recording?”

He nodded. “It’s all there.” His eyes clouded and she knew he was reliving the loss of his best friend all over again. “With any luck we can put this to rest quickly.”

Detective Green was waiting for them at the nurse’s station. She offered a brief hello, asking if there had been any update on Hudson’s condition before leading them to a small room at the end of the corridor. Inside the confined space was a chair and loveseat, and on the table between them rested a box of tissues. It was the room where family members were given bad news, and a quiet moment to grieve. Just being there made Allie’s skin mist with a cold sweat.

“Please, have a seat, Miss Sinclair,” she said, lowering herself into the armchair.

“It’s Mrs. Chase, actually,” Allie murmured. She and Ben Weiss sat side by side on the small sofa.

The detective stilled momentarily before continuing to unpack her notepad and pen from a worn leather satchel. Somewhere in the back of Allie’s mind it registered that this was a woman who was not often caught off guard. “Congratulations. I wasn’t aware you and Mr. Chase had married.”

“It’s a very recent development,” Ben answered on her behalf. “And one they chose not to share with the press at this time. I’m sure you can understand, given the media scrutiny Miss . . . Mrs. Chase has been under since her parents’ passing.”

“Not to mention Mr. Laurent’s reaction,” Green added. Allie’s gaze flicked up from the scratch on the wood coffee table that had become her focal point and met the detective’s steady gaze. “I spoke to Max Knight at the scene,” she said, and not for the first time Allie wondered if that was really his last name. “He explained that Mr. Laurent had been threatening you.”

Ben shifted forward in his seat. “If you’ve already taken his statement, I don’t see why this can’t wait given the current situation.”

The look on the female detective’s face made it clear their meeting wasn’t up for debate. “Which is why we’re speaking here rather than at the station.” She turned to Allie. “I need you to tell me your version of the events that lead up to the incident tonight at Mayflower Place.”

Allie took a deep breath. She knew full well Max would have never revealed what Julian had been holding over their heads. Without a doubt his statement would have been brief and to the point, focusing on Julian’s crimes, not Hudson’s. “Julian contacted me when we were in Europe over New Year’s. He wanted me to return his ring, but when I brought it to him, he was livid that I had ended our engagement. In his mind I had backed out on a business deal and he was to be compensated.”

The detective didn’t write a single word in the notebook she held in her hands. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on Allie. The scrutiny left her painfully aware of not only the words she spoke, but every movement or gesture she made. She folded her hands in her lap in an effort to keep her trembling fingers from betraying her nerves.

“He wanted me to break up with Hudson, then offer to take him back only if he signed over his interest in Ingram Media. Once that was accomplished, Julian wanted me to marry him with a prenup in place that gave him full reign over the company he felt he rightfully deserved.”

“What did you tell him?”

Allie let out a disgusted huff. “That he was crazy and that there was no way I would ever agree. That’s when he told me he killed my parents.” Her voice cracked and her gaze dropped to her hands. After a beat passed, she cleared her throat. “He murdered them, Detective, same as if he’d been the one to pull the trigger.” Allie met her shrewd stare. “And he was threatening to harm Hudson if I didn’t do exactly as he instructed.”

“Did it ever occur to you to contact to the police?” Green asked, scribbling a few words in the notepad that Allie couldn’t make out.

“Of course it did. But the investigation wasn’t yielding any results, and I didn’t have any proof. It was my word against his. Until now. I had a digital recorder tucked inside my blouse tonight. Julian discovered it just before Hudson arrived.” She swallowed hard. “It was what set him off.”

“He admitted his involvement?”

Allie nodded. “Everything.”

Ben reached for the device inside his suit jacket. It was wrapped in the handkerchief that usually peeked from the front pocket in an immaculate square. “It’s all on here.”

Green pulled a plastic bag marked EVIDENCE out of her leather satchel and sealed the recorder inside.

“Julian Laurent killed my parents, and right now all I can do is sit in that waiting room praying he hasn’t taken my husband as well. Julian might be dead, but the damage he’s done is irreversible. For that he will never fully be out of my life, but the sooner I can start trying to put him behind me, the better.”

“If what’s on this device corroborates your story, I don’t anticipate any further issues.” Her eyes softened. “I’m not an especially religious woman, Mrs. Chase, not with what I see on a daily basis. But I’ll be praying for your husband’s recovery. If anyone deserves a happy ending, it’s the two of you.”

“Thank you, Detective.” Out of the corner of her eye Allie caught a flash of blue. She turned her head just in time to see a woman in hospital scrubs entering the family waiting room. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, not even bothering to wait for a reply before hurrying down the hall.

“Is he okay?” Allie blurted out the moment she yanked open the door.

The woman in scrubs was standing in front of Nick, who was seated in one of the molded plastic chairs. His foot was tapping at a frantic pace, making his entire leg shake, and his face seemed to have aged well beyond his twenty-two years.

“He’s still in surgery,” Nick said. His voice was so quiet and flat, Allie hardly recognized it.

“These are Mr. Chase’s personal effects,” the woman said, holding out a large manila envelope. “I’m sorry I don’t have any news for you. Hopefully someone will be out with an update soon.”

“Thank you.” Allie sat in one of the chairs on the opposite wall and reached into the envelope. Hudson’s smartphone and wallet were inside, but there was no sign of the burner. Surely he’d had it; how else would he have gotten her text and known she was with Julian? But where the hell was it? Max, she thought. Of course he would have taken care of any loose ends before the police arrived. Unlike the unregistered phone Hudson had used for their covert conversations, the phone Allie held in her hand was for business. The four inches of technology that was his constant link to an ever-expanding conglomerate. Allie felt confident the only entries would be work-related, but on the outside chance there was anything even slightly incriminating . . .

She powered on his cell phone. The fact that his pass code was her birthday made her smile, but when the home screen popped up, her smile faded and tears sprang to her eyes. Staring back at her from the device Hudson looked at all day while he ruled his empire was their wedding day selfie. She drank in every detail of the photo, from the way she snuggled so close to her new husband to the way his hand curled possessively around her shoulder. But it was the look in their eyes that jumped off the screen to pierce her heart. A look that said simply, “I am home.”

Curious if the shot of the two of them sharing a kiss after sampling wedding cake was also on the phone, Allie tapped the album icon. When she did, she found not only the photo she was looking for, but dozens of others. All candid shots, and all of her. Browsing the rolls of wrapping paper at the Christkindlmarket; sharing a laugh in front of the fire with Harper; reading a book, wrapped in a cashmere throw in Hudson’s library. Picture after picture taken during unguarded moments of happiness. The fact that Hudson had not only captured them, but kept them stored on his phone, was just another example of the romantic nature he so vehemently denied having. She smiled to herself. When he woke up, she was going to give him hell for this.