The mafia heiress revenge
the garden, the sight that greeted him was a nightmare come to life. Abigail's body lay sprawled on the grou
desperation and disbelief. He could barely recogni
th a mixture of defiance and grief. "I loved her. I would never hurt her. Someo
oment, his expression impassive. "We have o
police arrived at your house, they found no signs of a forced entry. No one had broken in. That leaves
cation of what the officer was saying, but he refused to
e planning to have the weekend all to ourselves. We had even sent our daughter, June, away to spend time with her aun
s looks. You were the only other person in the house.The police found no signs of a break-in, and no one else had access to yo
o a mask of desperation. "I don't know what you want me to say.
," the interrogator countered, his
him like the jaws of a steel trap. He blinked against the harsh fluore
was as if his entire life had been swallowed by a void, leaving only fragments of memory to float in his consci
inally ushered from his cell, he followed the guard with a sense of resignation, like a lamb to the slaughter. The interrog
torney, Mr. Sawyer," she said
ce the name. "Mary Lamb? Or... Mary Jac
ing her otherwise expressionless face. "My name is Mary Davi
rientation wash over him. He coul
we need to establish some clarity, some consistency in your story. You claim to be innocent, yet you cannot remember key details of the night in question. You claim that no
ggling to follow
"I loved Abigail. I swear I never wanted to hurt her. But I ca
t the prosecution has a very compelling case against you. Without any evidence to support your claims, it's goi
r. "I... I was with Abigail, but... I don't know if anyone else saw
ut any witnesses or corroborating evidence, it's going to be difficult to convince the jury that you didn
g to another dead end. He desperately tried to retrace hi
g else," he said, his voice br