Riverstar (3) by Tess Thompson

WITH CARROT HAIR interviewed Bella at the police station in Echo Grove. The room was windowless and held only a simple table and two chairs. He sat across from her, his gaze both intense and unflinching, taking notes on a yellow tablet. They’d been together an hour already. She was hungry and the lack-of-caffeine headache was starting, faint still, like the air right before a thunderstorm. So far he’d asked her to tell him as accurately as possible everything she could remember about last night and she’d answered as honestly as she could.
    “What is the nature of your relationship with Ben Fleck?”
    She returned his gaze, unflinching. “We’re sleeping together.”
    “Is this a purely physical relationship?”
    “How is that relevant to anything?”
    He shrugged, his hazel eyes cold. “I ask the questions here.”
    She flushed, hot suddenly. How was her relationship with Ben a factor in anything? Regardless, despite her inclination to sass him, she knew for her sake and Ben’s she had to play nice. “We’re newly together. My brother’s known him forever, though.”
    “And you were with him in the early part of this morning?”
    “Correct. We’re both staying at my brother’s house. I left him at the bar around eleven. He returned to the house shortly after midnight.”
    “Are you sure about this?”
    Bella felt dampness at the base of her neck where her curls brushed the collar of her blouse. She put her fingers there, fluffing her curls, trying to remain calm. “Yes.” Just tell the truth. “I’d fallen asleep and looked at the clock when he came in.”
    “And did you ask him what took him so long to return?”
    “Yes.”
    “And?” Carrot Cop raised his eyebrows and spoke to her in a voice dripping with disdain.
    “Tiffany was throwing up and he didn’t want to leave her to die in her own vomit.”
    “You really think a man like Ben Fleck held her hair while she puked for an hour?”
    “Yes. He saw Tiffany was in trouble and shouldn’t drive so he stopped to help. That’s the kind of man he is. I’m quite certain he did hold her hair.” She put her fingers against her lips, watching him. There was a trace of meanness in his demeanor he didn’t bother to disguise with professionalism. He was a small man and unattractive, with eyes that bulged and one of those mouths where his gums showed over large teeth every time he grimaced. And that awful orange hair? He’d probably been tormented as a child and decided to be a cop so he could become the bully rather than the bullied.
    He looked down at his notes for a moment before meeting her gaze, tapping his pen on the table. “How well do you know him, if, in your words, you’re newly together?”
    “I just do.” She hesitated. How did one explain to a man like this one about a man like Ben Fleck? She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. “Surely you can imagine he’d be in a rush to make it back to me. It took a kind man to stay and take care of a girl he barely knew.”
    “Miss Webber, Miss Archer was raped before she was strangled.”
    The pain in her head surged then. She stared at Carrot Cop, her thoughts too jumbled to respond.
    “Miss Webber?”
    “If that’s the case, it means someone else was in her room after Ben.”
    “How can you be so sure about that?”
    “A DNA test will prove it wasn’t Ben. That’s simple enough.” She crossed her legs under the table, feeling the soreness from being with a man after a long time without sex. There was no way Ben had raped Tiffany. She felt hopeful suddenly. A DNA test would absolve him. Surely Carrot Cop knew this? “Can I get a Diet Coke? My head feels like it’s going to explode.”
    “In a minute. I have a few more questions. Was Mr. Fleck acting strangely when he arrived home?”
    “No. He was tired, that’s all.”
    “And did you have sex?”
    “Again, how is this relevant to Tiffany?”
    “Again, I ask the questions. You answer them.” He spoke