Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Chapter Twenty
Once Noah and Fallon got back to the apartment she was free to talk and react to the traumatizing events of earlier since the twins weren’t there. The kids were out with a friend which left her free to talk and react to the traumatizing events of earlier. If Noah hadn’t gotten there when he had… She’d begun to hear the crackling of flames next door. God, she’d been so frightened and she’d had to sit by uselessly as smoke and fire threatened from next door.
Tears formed in her eyes as she realized the gallery had been destroyed. It would take a long time to rebuild, she thought sadly.
She wrapped her hands around a cup of hot tea, taking comfort from the steaming mug and familiar chamomile smell. When Noah asked what he could get for her, she’d wanted the drink that reminded her of her mother. Instead of running from that pain, she’d needed to feel close to her. Besides, coffee wouldn’t calm her down and she needed to get rid of the panic that still clawed inside her.
Noah sat by her side, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and she was grateful for the comfortable silence. She’d already let her family know what happened and that she was fine, wanting them to hear the news about the gallery from her and not on the news.
She’d left her phone and bag behind, and hoped they’d be salvageable when the fire department was finished. Noah’s phone rang, startling her out of her thoughts.
“Hello?” he said, taking the call.
“Yes, she’s here. Hold on.” He covered the phone with his hand. “It’s one of the police officers you spoke to at the scene.” They’d given him Noah’s number to reach her if they had further questions. “Are you up to it?”
She nodded and took the phone. “Hello? This is Fallon Sterling.”
“Ms. Sterling, this is Officer Jones, we met at the fire site earlier. I’m at the hospital where Mrs. Clara Morganville is being treated. I came to inform her of the situation at her gallery and she’s been sedated.”
“Why?” she asked, stiffening. “What’s wrong?”
“Apparently there was an incident earlier we think is related to the fire. Do you think you could come down here to answer some questions since Ms. Morganville can’t at the moment?”
“Yes. I’ll be over soon.” She disconnected the call and met Noah’s curious gaze. “Something happened at the hospital. They had to sedate Clara and the police want to ask me some questions.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you need a lawyer?” he asked, his protective instincts obviously kicking in.
She shook her head. “I think he just wants answers he can’t get from Clara until she’s awake.”
“I’ll take you. Are you ready?”
She nodded and they left for the hospital where they received the shock of their lives.
Sitting alone with Officer Jones in the waiting room, the door closed, he explained how when he’d come to question Clara—Fallon had informed him earlier the gallery owner was in the hospital—he’d walked in on officers from another precinct arresting her son, Oliver.
“Why?” Fallon asked. “And why is Clara sedated? She was doing well when I visited yesterday.” Noah clasped her hand in his and squeezed for reassurance.
The office looked at her as he spoke. “It seems he was caught in the act of attempting to smother his mother with a pillow. An orderly held him down until the police arrived.”
“What?!” she cried, jumping up from her seat. “I don’t understand.”
“Luckily for us, he was in an angry, frustrated, and talkative mood after the police arrived and cuffed him. It seems Mr. Morganville is in debt to some very dangerous people.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she said as she lowered herself back into her chair. “Oliver always needed money from his mother.”
The officer nodded. “According to the tests run by the hospital, she was being slowly poisoned, which is why you found her collapsed in her apartment.”
“Oh my God.” Fallon covered her mouth with her hand.
“Mr. Morganville was counting on killing his mother for the insurance money on the gallery. He figured they’d label her cause of death old age or a heart attack and leave it at that. But she lived, thanks to you. And then he heard Mrs. Morganville tell you she was leaving the business to you, cutting him out of the lucrative real estate and gallery.”
She nodded. “She just told me recently and I was shocked. But—”
He held up a hand, indicating he wanted to continue. “When Mr. Morganville discovered you were an obstacle to his inheritance, he decided to get rid of you, too.”
Noah stiffened in his seat and she grabbed his hand.
“He watched you and waited until you were alone in the gallery, then set the fire in the other side, assuming you were too busy with your painting to notice until it was too late. And to make sure, he set the cement blocks by the front door, locking you inside.”