“Yes,” Noah said, sounding unconcerned.
“Thank you, Mr. Cutler.” Detective Rake pushed a photo across the table toward Noah. It was an exact copy of the one that was in my folder, the headshot of the smiling girl. “Do you know this woman?”
“Yes.”
“And what is her name, for the record?”
“Dani DeClair.”
“And how did you know the victim?”
“We were friends,” Noah said.
“Friends?” Detective Rake pressed.
“Yes.”
I realized I was supposed to be taking notes, for what, I had no clue – since the meeting was being taped, both by video and audio, we could probably just get copies of those if we needed to. But I did as I was told, just in case.
“Did you have a sexual relationship with Ms. DeClair?”
“Yes,” Noah replied. He sounded bored, like the fact that he’d had a sexual relationship with a girl who’d been murdered was of no consequence.
“But you just said you were friends.”
“Friends can have sex, Detective,” Noah said, his tone hard.
I felt my cheeks heating up and I concentrated hard on my legal pad.
“What kind of sex did you and Ms. DeClair have?” Detective Rake asked. He leaned back in his chair, casually crossing one leg over the other, like he was used to questioning wealthy businessmen about their involvement with the victim of a murder.
“The kind I always have,” Noah said, smirking. “Good.”
Professor Worthington sighed. “Listen, my client has been more than cooperative, coming down here on a Saturday to answer questions about a crime he hasn’t even been charged with. And if you’ve come here to drill him about his sexual history, well, that’s ridiculous.”
“On the contrary, Professor Worthington. This case has everything do with Noah’s sexual history.”
It did? My heart skipped a beat.
Detective Rake picked a file folder up off his desk and opened it, his eyes scanning down the document on the front page. “Do you know a club called Force?” he asked.
Noah’s eyes immediately darkened. “Yes,” he said.
“Would you say you’ve been there regularly?”
“Don’t answer that,” Worthington instructed quickly.
Noah opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something, but then he stopped himself.
“Isn’t it true you met Ms. DeClair at Force?” Detective Rake pressed.
Noah stayed quiet, his hands balled into fists at his side.
I’d stopped taking notes now, completely rapt by what was happening. What was this club, Force? I’d never heard of it, but it sounded dark and creepy, the kind of place where shady deals got made.
I remembered all the rumors that had circulated about Noah, the things Cora and other people at my law school would say about him. How he had ties to the mob, how he would break rules to win a case, how he was ruthless in the courtroom, eviscerating witnesses and going head-to-head with judges. Had he been engaging in shady dealings at Force? And what would that have to do with his sexual history?
“My client has an alibi for the night Ms. DeClair was killed,” Worthington said. “I’d also like to remind you that he hasn’t been charge with any crime, and that he’s been cooperating with police to his fullest capabilities.”
“Right,” Detective Rake said, raising his eyebrow just a tiny bit, making it clear he thought that if this was Noah’s idea of cooperating fully, then they were going to have a problem. “And I’d like to remind you and your client that we’re still determining the timeline of Ms. DeClair’s death, and that his alibi still needs to be verified.” Detective Rake then reached back into his folder and slid another photo across the table.
“Do you recognize this woman, Mr. Cutler?”
I couldn’t see the picture, because it was angled away from me.
But I saw Noah glance at it, and then his whole face changed. It went from annoyed and angry to stony with a simmering rage building beneath the surface.
“Put that away,” he said, his voice controlled and even.
“Weren’t you engaged to this woman, Mr. Cutler?”
“All right, that’s enough,” Worthington said. “We didn’t come down here to be treated like –”
“And isn’t it true, Mr. Cutler, that your ex-fiancé, Nora Hogan, was killed in the exact same manner as Ms. DeClair?”
“We’re leaving,” Worthington said, standing up.
Noah sat there, stony faced.
I took in a deep breath and held it, wondering what the hell was about to happen. I didn’t have to wait long.
Noah stood up and then leaned over the desk until he was right in the detective’s face. “Do not ever say her name again,” he snarled. “If you do, I will end you.”