Chapter Four: The Woman In Red

The police officer's voice on the other end of Adrian's phone was cold and professional.

"Mrs. Stone? This is Detective Miller, NYPD. We need you to come to Mount Sinai Hospital immediately for questioning regarding the attempted murder of Vanessa Croft. We have a witness and physical evidence placing you at the scene. If you do not appear within two hours, we will issue a warrant for your arrest."

Attempted murder.

The words hit me like a physical blow. My knees gave out and I sank onto the edge of the bed.

Julian took the phone from my frozen hand.

"This is Julian Croft, her attorney. My client will not be answering any questions without her legal counsel present. We will meet you at the hospital at 10 a.m. with her lawyer Margaret Cole. Do not contact her again directly."

He hung up before the detective could argue. Then he turned to me, his grey eyes dark.

"Elena, look at me. Breathe. Tell me exactly what happened last night from the moment you left Adrian's penthouse."

"I... I left at 9:15 p.m. You know that. You found me in the lobby. I was crying. You brought me here. I was here all night! I didn't go back!"

"I know," he said quickly. "I know you were here. But did you leave this suite at any point after 2 a.m.? Did you sleepwalk? Did you take any sleeping pills?"

"No! I didn't take anything! I fell asleep around 2 a.m. on this bed. I woke up at 5:47 a.m. when Adrian called! I never left!"

Julian walked to the closet and pulled out my red dress. It was hanging exactly where I left it last night, damp and wrinkled.

Then he checked the bathroom. On the marble counter, my red silk scarf was missing.

My heart stopped.

"The scarf," I whispered. "I was wearing it last night when I went to surprise Adrian. I took it off in his office when I saw them. I left it there. I left it on his sofa."

Julian's expression hardened.

"So how did the police find it on the balcony where Vanessa fell?"

Just then, there was a sharp knock on the suite door. It was 8:02 a.m.

A tall woman in a navy blue suit walked in. She was in her fifties, with silver hair cut short and eyes that could cut glass. She carried a leather briefcase.

"Margaret Cole," she said. "Julian called me. I charge two thousand dollars an hour and I never lose. Are you Elena Hart?"

I nodded, too scared to speak.

Margaret opened her briefcase and pulled out a tablet.

"Good. Let's make this fast. Your husband Adrian Stone is claiming you attempted to murder Vanessa Croft by pushing her from his 58th floor penthouse balcony at approximately 12:03 a.m. last night. The police have three pieces of evidence."

She held up one finger.

"One: A doorman from the building says he saw a woman in a long red dress running out of the service entrance at 12:15 a.m. He says the woman had dark hair, like yours."

Second finger.

"Two: Your red Hermès scarf was found tangled in the balcony railing. Lab is testing it for DNA now."

Third finger.

"Three: Vanessa Croft herself, before she lost consciousness, told the paramedics, and I quote: 'Elena did it. Elena pushed me.'"

The room spun.

"But that's a lie!" I screamed. "I wasn't there! I would never— I'm pregnant! Why would I—"

"Because you had motive," Margaret said bluntly, but not unkindly. "A pregnant wife who just found out her husband is cheating with the victim. A jury will believe you were jealous. The prosecution will say you went back to confront Vanessa after Julian took you away. That you fought, and you pushed her."

"That's not true!"

"I believe you," Margaret said. "But belief doesn't win cases. Evidence does. So tell me, Elena, who else has access to that penthouse? Who else knew you were wearing red last night? Who else would want Vanessa dead and you in jail?"

Julian and I looked at each other at the same time.

The answer was obvious.

"Adrian," Julian said quietly.

Margaret nodded. "Exactly. If Vanessa dies or is in a coma, Adrian can't marry her. If you go to jail for her murder, Adrian gets a divorce for free and keeps all his money. He doesn't have to pay you a cent. He kills two birds with one stone."

My hands were on my stomach, protecting my baby.

"But Adrian called me panicked," I said. "He sounded terrified. If he planned it—"

"That was performance," Margaret said. "I have known Adrian Stone's lawyers for twenty years. They teach their clients how to sound panicked on the phone. Because they know we record everything."

She checked her watch.

"It's 8:15 a.m. We have to be at Mount Sinai at 10 a.m. Before that, we have one stop to make."

"Where?" I asked.

"The courthouse," Julian said, suddenly understanding. He looked at me. "Our wedding."

Margaret smiled for the first time, a cold, sharp smile.

"Exactly. If you are arrested for attempted murder today, you need two things. One: A powerful husband who can post bail. Two: Spousal privilege. A husband cannot be forced to testify against his wife. And right now, Julian is the only person who can provide an alibi for you — that you were with him all night. If he is your husband by 9:30 a.m., his testimony becomes much stronger. The police cannot force him to reveal what his wife said to him last night."

She looked at my pale face.

"Elena, if you want to survive this, you need to marry Julian Croft in the next hour. Not next week. Not tomorrow. Now."

I stared at Julian. This contract marriage was supposed to be a business deal for next month, for his grandfather. Not like this. Not under police investigation for attempted murder.

Julian knelt in front of me again, just like last night. But this time, his face was not calm. It was urgent.

"Elena, I know this is insane. But Margaret is right. If you go into that police station as Elena Stone, single and alone, they will destroy you. If you walk in as Elena Croft, my wife, protected by the Croft family lawyers, they will have to think twice. I will post any bail. I will hire private investigators. I will prove you were here."

He took my cold hands.

"Will you marry me now? For real, on paper, right now?"

Outside, I could hear sirens in the distance. Were they coming for me?

I had no money. No family in New York. A baby inside me. And now, a murder accusation.

I had only one choice.

"Yes," I whispered. "Let's get married."

Margaret already had her phone out.

"I have a judge waiting downstairs in the hotel lobby. He owes me a favor. He can marry you in five minutes. Let's go."

Julian pulled me up. I was still in the oversized hotel robe, no makeup, hair a mess, pregnant, terrified, and accused of attempted murder.

And I was about to marry a man I had known for less than twelve hours.

As we rushed out of the suite, my phone buzzed one more time.

It was a text message from an unknown number. No words. Just a photo.

I opened it.

It was a photo of me, taken last night. I was asleep in this hotel bed, wearing the white hotel robe. The time stamp on the photo said 12:07 a.m. — the exact time Vanessa fell.

Someone had been inside this suite last night while I was sleeping. Someone had taken a photo of me sleeping. And someone had taken my red dress from the closet, worn it to frame me, and put it back.

I grabbed Julian's arm and showed him the photo. His face went white.

"Who sent this?" he whispered.

I looked at the text under the photo. It finally appeared.

_Welcome to the family, Mrs. Croft. Now you belong to me. — V_

V. Vanessa.

Vanessa Croft had taken the photo herself.

Vanessa was not in a coma. Vanessa was awake. And she was playing a game.

OMG! Vanessa is alive and she was INSIDE Elena's hotel room! How did she get in? Who is helping her? Elena just married Julian but now Vanessa knows! What will happen at the police station at 10 a.m.? Please add to library and vote — Chapter 5 will be FIRE!