Princess (American Princess #1)(14)
Author: Courtney Cole

The man standing in front of her, Detective Harrison Daniels, possessed a commanding attitude, one of curt formality. But he was not the type of person that Sydney would have imagined as a detective.

He was tall, dark-haired and had the look of a Wall Street investment banker, not a policeman.  His fingernails were manicured, his clothing expensive. His gaze was intelligent as his discerning eyes scanned the room. He took everything in- the lack of visitors, the absence of flowers, Stephen’s hands holding hers, everything. It made her feel self-conscious and she pulled her hand from Stephen’s before she answered.

“Yes?”

“I’m Detective Daniels.  This is my partner, Detective Wills. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your accident.”

He spoke in a decisive manner, motioning to his partner, who was a short, hard-faced woman with pinched lips.  Her hair style was as sensible as her black walking shoes. She wore very little makeup and her fingernails were unkempt. It was clear that she didn’t take much time for personal pampering, although Sydney could tell from her muscled biceps that she must spend hours in the gym.

“Of course.  But I don’t remember much.”

Sydney was already apologetic.  She knew she wasn’t going to be much help. Her memory was sketchy at best.

“Anything that you can remember will be helpful.”

He dismissed her statement with cynical disregard, as though her opinion was of the most miniscule of importance. It was clear that he felt that he was the only one qualified to determine what was helpful and what was not.

Sydney was immediately taken aback by the curtness in his voice, which only served to put her on edge.  His partner moved around the bed to stand closer to Sydney, pulling out a little leather notebook and a heavy ink pen.

“What do you remember, Ms. Ross?”

Detective Wills had the no-nonsense manner that Sydney would have expected from a detective, as well as the dumpy clothes and the coffee breath.  She could tell from her burned out demeanor that this woman was someone who had seen everything and had probably spoken with a hundred girls just like Sydney. And it was very apparent that she was weary of it.

Stephen picked up her hand again, reassuringly.  She didn’t pull away, even though Detective Daniels flickered his gaze briefly as he registered the gesture.  She tried not to care because they weren’t doing anything wrong. The warmth of Stephen’s hand gave her the assurance that someone in the room was on her side.  The unexpected glacial cold emanating from Detective Daniels certainly wasn’t doing it for her.

“I only remember an old beat-up car.  It was black. And it had a big gold bird on the hood.  I didn’t see it at all before it hit me, only when it was backing up to drive away. And there was the smell… burning rubber, I think. I heard tires squealing.”

“You didn’t see the driver when he struck you?” Detective Wills’ pen hesitated on her paper, waiting for Sydney to confirm.

“No. I didn’t. It happened too fast.  I heard a loud engine and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.  I didn’t even feel anything at the time.” The heavy pen scratched quickly against the paper.

“Were the car windows up or down?”

“I don’t know.”

“Were the windows tinted?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was the car in the parking lot when you went into the store?”

“I don’t think so. But I didn’t notice.”

“Do you know anyone with a black Trans-Am or Firebird?”

“No.”

“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you?”

The pen lingered over the paper, waiting for something to write.

Sydney halted her answers and stared at the detective in shock. She had been under the assumption that it was a strange, random accident. The idea that someone had tried to kill her dawned on her as suddenly as someone dumping ice water on her head.

“You think someone hit me on purpose?” she asked incredulously.  “Who would do that?”

“That’s what we’re trying to ascertain, Ms. Ross. Do you have any ideas?”

“Why would you think they did it on purpose?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that someone would want to hurt her enough to ponder who it could be.

“The clerk in the store saw a late model black Trans-Am speeding into the parking lot, as though it had been waiting for you to walk out of the store.  It hit you, then made a quick three-point turn to escape from the parking lot.  Unfortunately, the glare of the sun was on the windshield, so he couldn’t get a description of the driver. He couldn’t see the tag either because the driver fled the scene too fast.  But they’re pulling up the surveillance tapes for our review.  Do you have any enemies?”

“No.  I don’t.  I mean, my ex-boyfriend’s parents hate me because I got pregnant.  But I don’t think I would call them enemies. They just pretend that I don’t exist.”

“When is the last time that you spoke with them?”

“When we told them… about four months ago.”

When Mrs. Price called had called her a stupid little twit.

“How did they take the news?”

“Not well. They wanted me to get an abortion.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Stephen interrupted, surprise and annoyance on his handsome face.  “What does that have to do with the situation?  Is it relevant?”

“Yes, it is. I am trying to determine Ms. Ross’ motives.” Detective Wills barely spared him a glance before turning her attention back to Sydney.  “Were you hoping to get money from them?”

Shock rippled through Sydney again.  Why in the world would she want to get money from them? That had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Stephen interrupted again. “This is ridiculous!  Of course she wasn’t.  Do you know who her parents are?”

He unconsciously moved closer to Sydney, a move that he didn’t even realize, but that Detective Daniels certainly did. The detective absorbed everything, his face impassive.

Sydney squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Stephen.”  The detective’s eyes continued their cold appraisal. He filed away the cousin’s protective demeanor in his mind as he watched their gentle interaction.

“You’ve already spoken with the Prices’, haven’t you?” she softly asked. “I can tell that you have. They don’t like me much.  But I don’t want their money. I just couldn’t get an abortion, that’s all. I wanted the baby. They should be happy now, though.  She’s gone.”