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She’d seen the blood on their clothes, assumed something bad had happened, but Christian hadn’t filled her in on the specifics. Although he had no doubt he’d pay for the omission later when Sophie read him the riot act for keeping stuff from her, it worked in their favor now. Her response couldn’t have been more genuine and he could tell the Feds recognized it as such.
     
    “Oh, my God...” she muttered to herself. She sat silent for a minute, deep in thought, then lifted her head. “No, I didn’t know.”
     
    “All right. Well, I would say I’m sorry for your loss, but it doesn’t sound as if you were close to him.”
     
    Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “No, we weren’t. He went to school with us, and my best friend dated him for a while after we graduated, until he started beating her up and she had to file a restraining order.” She was unapologetic in her anger, despite the fact the fucker was dead and she was being questioned by federal agents, and quite frankly, it turned Christian on. She loved Michael and Nikki every bit as much as he did.
     
    “Your best friend? You are referring to Nicole Wright, correct?”
     
    “Yes.”
     
    “How long have you been friends?”
     
    “Since I moved here in elementary school. Christian’s been friends with her even longer than me. I met her through him.”
     
    “Mr. Jefferson, how close are you to Ms. Wright?”
     
    “Very. She’s like a sister to me.”
     
    “Then it must have been truly upsetting to you to learn she was being abused,” Tweedle Joe said, reeking of false sympathy.
     
    “Yes.”
     
    “And what would you say if I told you Sebastian Cross violated the terms of the restraining order and had injured her again?”
     
    “I’d say the son of a bitch deserved to die. Slowly.”
     
    “Is that what you said to Ms. Wright when she called you two nights ago, looking for help?”
     
    Sophie’s eyes widened as she seemed to catch on to what was really going down. “Surely you can’t possibly think Christian or I had something to do with Sebastian’s death?!” Sophie’s shaking got worse, and she started to rock back and forth.
     
    Christian had had enough.
     
    “Cut the crap. You already pulled my phone records, I’m sure. You and I both know she didn’t call here. Probably because she knew how I would have reacted. Now, unless you intend to charge me with a crime, I am politely asking you to get the fuck out of my house!” He slapped the table with the palm of one hand and pointed at the door with the other.
     
    Tweedle Joe tried to placate him, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Just one more question. Have you had any contact with Michael Brennan or Nicole Wright since their disappearance?”
     
    Christian figured the time had come to earn his Oscar before they caught Sophie in a lie.
     
    “Disappearance? What are you talking about? Where are they?” He mentally preened for the way his voice rose the more he talked, and hoped he looked adequately panicked.
     
    Tweedle Joe did not seem convinced, and actually had the gall to chuckle at him as he slid a business card across the table, leaving it in front of Sophie. “All right, whatever you say. If either of them contact you, you need to call me at this number. Failure to do so would result in criminal charges.”
     
    Tweedle John was putting his jacket back on when he eyed the gun rack. “Quite the extensive collection you’ve got, Mr. Jefferson. I mean, I’m assuming they’re yours and not your lovely wife’s. Are they all registered?”
     
    Sophie looked like she was going to throw up, and Christian was terrified of the impact this was having on the baby.
     
    He ground his teeth and locked his knees to reduce the temptation to run across the room and punch this guy right between the eyes. “Out. Now. We’re not answering any more questions without our lawyer present.” He slammed the door shut behind them and turned just in time to see Sophie’s