Page 64 of Cakewalk

Oh for heaven’s sake! Why didn’t I think of that? Nice job, Gigi…

“I didn’t kill my husband, Detective.” Gigi could hear the warble in her voice and said a little prayer that it showed her honesty, rather than made her seem guilty. Detective Ball wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he was wholly convinced that she had murdered Bradley. Gigi just didn’t know how to change that.

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know.” Gigi slumped back in her chair. She was exhausted and feeling more than just a little defeated. The news that Bradley was dead should have made her happy. But the only thing it did was turn her stomach. All this time she’d been living in fear of him, and he was out living it up with his secretary. Just great. Thanks to him, she’d not only left behind everything she knew, but now she was about to lose the whole new life she’d come to love. And more than that, the only man she’d ever really loved.

Even in death Bradley was ruining her life.

“Want to know what I think?” The smug look on his face told Gigi that no, she did not want to know what he thought. But then she reconsidered, wondering if she just played his game, she’d be out of here soon.

“What?” she answered, trying to sound sweet and interested.

“I believe you killed him. I think you planned this whole thing out. Fake your death, collect the insurance money, and then kill him. Maybe not in that order, since I’m sure it’s not as simple as just that. The autopsy shows he was poisoned prior to ending up in the lake. I’m thinking you had to put quite a bit of thought and effort into this to know what to give him that wouldn’t be obvious. Or maybe that didn’t matter since he was going in the lake and you figured it would be months before he was found,” he said. Gigi felt the scrutiny of his gaze as he spoke, his eyes searching for any kind of indication from her that he’d struck a nerve. “I think you slipped him something before you left, and then paid someone to dump the body. Am I getting warmer? If we search your belongings, will we find papers with Ayla Hatche on them?”

“I didn’t kill him. I promise.”

“Then why have you been telling everyone he’s dead?”

“Because I didn’t want anyone to ask any questions about him and why I left. I figured if I told people he was dead, they would just accept that.”

“But why admit to being married at all? Why not just be a single woman?”

Gigi was caught off guard by the question. Why had she told that story? She could have just as easily pretended to not have a husband, as he suggested. The thought had never occurred to Gigi. Lying had never been a skill she’d possessed, and it wasn’t something she’d wanted to get into the habit of.

“I don’t know,” she said softly, looking away from him.

“Because you knew he was dead, or at least would be soon. Didn’t you?”

“No! I didn’t kill Bradley!”

“Not so sure I believe that, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“No! Why would I use my real name and social security number if I had a fake ID?” she exclaimed.

“Only you can answer that, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“I didn’t kill him. I promise.”

Detective Ball stood up from the table and walked over to the door, opening it and nodding to someone standing just outside it. Gigi watched as Officer Nelligan stepped into the room, his face long and his eyes conflicted. A sense of dread washed over her. Whatever happened next was not going to be good.

“Miss Gigi, I need you to please stand and place your hands behind your back,” Officer Nelligan said quietly.

Doing as she was told, she looked between the two men. She felt as if she were sliding off the side of the earth with nothing to grab on to and no way to stop it. This was not happening. No. She was not being arrested.

“You said I didn’t need a lawyer!” she cried, tears appearing out of nowhere.

“You weren’t under arrest then,” he informed her, his face still as straight and uncaring as it had been this entire time. “GeorgiaGrace Hawthorne, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit insurance fraud and for the murder of Bradley Preston Hawthorne.”

27

Holden

Holden knew he needed to get up off the couch. Sitting there, staring at the mess of blanket and pillows crumpled up on the mattress that was still on the floor was not helping anything. Then again, the run he’d forced himself to go on hadn’t helped either.

The hollow feeling that was inside him seemed to grow with every passing moment. This morning had been surreal. His plan had been to lazily wake Gigi up using his tongue and to spend most of the day wrapped up in each other, laughing and cuddling, until neither of them could take it anymore. But that stupid knock on the door had changed everything.

He’d run back the conversation with the cops and then his fight with Gigi over and over in his head. She’d been lying to him this whole time. Everything between them had been based on some fabricated story. It was hard to reconcile, since the Gigi he knew was as bright as sunshine, easygoing, and wouldn’t hurt a fly. Except, that was just who she wanted him to see, wasn’t it? That wasn’t the real her. The real her was apparently a lot more deceiving.