CHAPTER 50: WHO TO TRUST -2

"Oh God!" I gasped, stumbling backwards into Roy.

The sight of Kendall’s lifeless body sent waves of nausea through me. His eyes were open, staring at nothing, and there was blood pooling beneath him.

"We need to call the police," Roy said, already pulling out his phone.

"But...," I said, my mind racing. "This doesn’t feel right. Why would he ask me to meet him here if..."

Before I could finish my thought, bright lights suddenly flooded the warehouse. Car doors slammed outside, and I heard multiple voices shouting.

"Police! Nobody move!"

I felt a wave of dread wash over me as officers rushed into the warehouse, guns drawn and flashlights lighting up the darkness.

"Hands where we can see them!" one officer shouted.

Roy and I immediately raised our hands. I was shaking, still trying to process what was happening.

"We didn’t do anything," I said. "We just found him like this."

"Ma’am, step away from the body," the lead officer commanded.

Within minutes, the warehouse was crawling with police officers, paramedics, and crime scene investigators. Roy and I were separated and questioned individually.

"What’s your name?" the detective asked me.

"Layla O’Brien."

"And what’s your relationship to the deceased?"

"He’s my private investigator. He called me tonight and asked me to meet him here."

The detective made notes. "When did you arrive?"

"Maybe ten minutes ago? We found him just before you got here."

"His body is still warm," the detective said, studying me carefully. "The medical examiner thinks he was shot only minutes before you arrived. And your number was the last one he called."

My blood ran cold. "Are you saying you think I killed him?"

"I’m saying the timing is very convenient, Mrs. O’Brien."

Roy had already called Axel, and within an hour, he arrived at the scene. I could see him talking to the officers, his face was grim and his jaw tight with anger.

"I want to speak to my wife," I heard him say.

"She’s being processed for questioning at the station," the detective replied.

"Then that’s where I’m going."

At the police station, I was placed in an interrogation room. The detective sat across from me with a recording device between us.

"Mrs. O’Brien, we need to understand why you were at that warehouse tonight."

"I told you. Kendall called me and asked me to meet him there."

"Why would a private investigator ask you to meet him in an abandoned warehouse at eleven at night?"

"He said it wasn’t safe to talk over the phone. He said he had found something important to tell me about the investigation I hired him for."

"And what kind of investigation was Mr. Kendall conducting for you?"

I hesitated. "I hired him to look into something personal bothering me."

"And he didn’t tell you what he had found?"

"I’ve said this already. No, he didn’t. He said he couldn’t discuss it over the phone. That’s why he wanted to meet."

The detective leaned forward. "Mrs. O’Brien, do you own a gun?"

"I refuse to answer any more questions without my lawyer present."

The detective sighed but nodded. "That’s your right."

Hours passed before Axel was allowed to see me. When he finally entered the room, I could see the fury in his eyes, though he kept his voice controlled.

"Are you hurt?" he asked first.

"No, I’m fine. But Axel, this is all wrong. Someone set this up."

"The matter is too serious for bail tonight," he said quietly. "You’ll have to stay here until tomorrow."

I could tell he was furious, but he wasn’t directing his anger at me. At least, not yet.

"Axel, I didn’t do this. You have to believe me."

"I know you didn’t. But someone wanted it to look like you did."

That night in the holding cell, I couldn’t sleep. Roy was in a nearby cell, also being held as a potential accomplice. My mind kept replaying Kendall’s words: "You can’t trust anyone around you."

Was his death somehow connected to what he had discovered about my father? Or was it just a coincidence, knowing the dangerous nature of his job?

Either way, I was certain it was part of a plan to frame me for his murder. But who would go to such lengths?

The next morning brought some relief. The autopsy report showed that Kendall had been shot from a distance; there was no gunpowder residue on my hands or clothes. There were no fingerprints of mine or Roy’s on Kendal’s body, and the murder weapon was still not found.

Additionally, Roy’s testimony confirmed that we had arrived together and found the body exactly as we reported.

"The ballistics don’t match," my lawyer explained. "And there’s no physical evidence linking you to the shooting. The prosecution can’t make their case."

Within hours, I was released on bail. Roy was released as well, though we were both warned not to leave the city.

When I arrived home, I found Erica in the foyer with her packed bags, ready to leave for the safe house Axel had arranged.

"Layla!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace me. "I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," I said, though I wasn’t sure that was true. "Just shaken up."

"I can’t believe someone would try to frame you. It’s horrible."

I studied her face, looking for any sign of deception, but all I saw was genuine concern. Still, Kendall’s warning about trust echoed in my mind.

"The car is waiting for me," Erica said. "But I don’t have to leave right now if you need me to stay."

"No, you should go. You’ll be safer there."

She hugged me again. "Call me if you need anything. I mean it."

Just as she was about to leave, Axel appeared in the doorway. He looked tired and stressed, his usually perfect appearance was slightly dishevelled.

"Erica," he nodded politely. "I hope the arrangements are suitable."

"They’re more than generous. Thank you for everything."

Axel turned to me with an unreadable expression. "Layla," he said quietly. "We should talk."

My stomach dropped. I was already dreading whatever conversation was about to follow, especially given everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.

"Wait for me, Erica, I won’t be long," I said as I turned to face Axel. "Where?"