One Weekend with the Billionaire novel Chapter 92

"Mr. Merriweather, perhaps it would be better if you waited in the hallway," Detective Margaret Folk says to me in a no nonsense sort of tone that tells me she is not used to having anyone disagree with her.

I might be the first.

But before I can even open my mouth, Shawna is speaking up on my behalf. "I see no reason why Mr. Merriweather can’t be in the room while you question Mrs. Thompson, unless of course, she would prefer for him to leave," my lawyer says.

Det. Folk arches an eyebrow, but it’s clear that Shawna is just as bold as the other woman, and when the investigator looks at Julia to see what she would like to do, Julia says, "I would like for him to say."

Shawna doesn’t gloat, but she does take a moment to introduce herself to Julia. "It’s nice to meet you," she says, offering her hand. Julia shakes it lightly as Shawna tells her her name and says, "You have nothing to worry about."

Julia smiles at Shawna, but I can tell she’s nervous. She doesn’t want to be having this conversation with the police at all, and I can’t blame her.

Det. Folk waits for Shawna to back away and then clears her throat, pulling out a notepad from her pocket. "Mrs. Thompson," she says, her voice stern and not at all sympathetic to the fact that we are in a hospital, and she’s speaking to an injured woman who’s just watched her husband plummet to his death. "Can you tell me exactly what happened when your husband, Jeff Thompson, came home this evening?"

Julia takes a deep breath and tries to adjust on the bed, but it’s difficult, so she gives up. I want to move to help her but decide it’s best if I hang back. "Jeff came home drunk," she says, adding, "again. I was standing by the window. He was surprised to see me since I had been staying with Braxton. We argued. I can’t remember exactly what was said, but Jeff got angry and ran at me. I stepped aside, and he lost his balance and went through the window. I managed to grab his foot, trying to pull him back in, but I wasn’t strong enough to pull him up all the way." There are tears in her eyes as she continues. "I started to fall out the window, too, when Mr. Stringer grabbed hold of me. I was dangling there, with Jeff holding on to one hand the other pressed against the shattered glass in the windowsill, Stringer holding on to me. Jeff said he wanted to pull me down, and he tried. I offered him my leg, but… he was still trying to pull me off, so I had to kick him to try to get him to stop yanking me down. He said if he died, I should die, too. Then… his grip slipped… and he fell."

It was clear to me that Julia was torn up, having to relive all of this. It was also evident that it was all a horrible accident, except for the part about Jeff trying to yank her out the window. I wished he was still alive so I could punch him in the face.

Det. Folk must not have heard the same thing I did. "You kicked your husband in the face as he was dangling off of your leg, hanging on for dear life, from the window ledge?"

The tears in Julia’s eyes spring free. "I had no choice. He was trying to kill me," she says.

Folk shakes her head. Her partner looks uncomfortable, like he disagrees with this line of questioning. "Do you think there’s a chance he was just scared of dying himself?"