It was past eight in the evening when Zoe and the other seven in her group were all brought into the police station for questioning, their personal belongings bagged and tagged as evidence.
Zoe was so furious she felt she might grind her teeth to dust, but she was no magician; there was no miraculous escape waiting for her. The one who’d thought she could slip away without consequence had ended up trapped herself.
Willow, naturally, had come to the station as well, since she was the one who’d called the cops. She sat quietly in an interview room, answering questions as part of the official process.
Ryan himself took her statement, professional and precise as he flipped open his notepad.
“When did you first suspect that Zoe might have it in for you?”
“It was when she deliberately tried to cozy up to my father. That’s when I started to get suspicious.”
Willow recited the story she’d carefully practiced in her mind, making sure her testimony would hold up in court. She left out the part about having someone tail Zoe for her, of course.
“I started to suspect she might try to drug me and ruin my reputation, so I set up a recorder just in case. I figured if I caught her in the act, I’d have evidence for the police. But I never imagined she’d actually spike my drink with something addictive, trying to turn me into a junkie.”
The truth was, Willow’s informant had seen Zoe meeting with a known dealer ages ago. Still, buying drugs for personal use wasn’t much of a crime—barely a slap on the wrist—so Willow had told her contact to hold back and just keep an eye on things.
If Zoe was just an addict, she’d buy for herself and that would be the end of it. But months of watching, and the informant had only seen Zoe make one purchase.
Willow had reason to believe Zoe had something else planned for those drugs.
She’d been right. Zoe had intended to use them on her.
Perfect. That added another charge to the list.
Once the statement was finished, Ryan switched off the recording device and motioned for his partner to leave the room. When they were alone, he leaned back in his chair, letting his formal demeanor slip away as he flashed Willow a crooked smile. “You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”
Willow’s gratitude was sincere. “Thank you, Officer Chase.”
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