Chapter 37

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Robert was pissed. It was the day after Regina's murder and the police had wanted to interview him, as James had mentioned back at the hospital. So he obliged thinking it was going to be the standard review of whether he saw anything suspicious or not, but instead, the questioning turned into an interrogation, as if they suspected HIM of doing this! Robert was horrified and disgusted and seriously asking himself whether these cops had any common sense. He was there that evening with Belle. They had just arrived and HE was the one who had called the police. Had he committed a murder, he wouldn't have done that, not to mention why his wife would be there and he'd probably be stained with more sweat and blood AND he wouldn't have been as distressed as he clearly was at the scene. Whoever did this obviously had to exert quite a bit of energy. Robert frowned. Yes, he was sweaty and a bit bloody when they found him, but he had just found the DEAD mutilated body of his FRIEND, the mayor, someone he cared for. Anybody would panic, or possibly lose their minds like he almost did.

But of course, the cops were assuming it could have been an act or cover of some sort. Robert shook his head rapidly. Then they mentioned the dagger. That damn dagger from HIS shop at the crime scene, which only had HIS fingerprints on them.

"No...NO!" Robert shouted angrily. "I'm telling you damned idiots that I did NOT DO THIS! That dagger has been in my shop. It's a decoration. It's MINE yes, so it would very well have my prints on them. I also touched it when I found Regina's body because I was so surprised to see it there. THAT'S ALL. I did not KILL HER! Someone must've taken it from the shop. Whoever it was, it was THEM!!"

"We ask that you keep your voice down Mr. Gold," said Detective Clark.

"You're insane if you think I did this!" Robert continued. He turned his head to James, who was standing off to the side looking worried and thoughtful. "James! Tell him, tell them all. I didn't do this!"

James was about to speak up until an oh-so familiar voice interrupted. "You sure have the temperament for a crime like this. I wouldn't be surprised if it was you."

"JONES!" Robert leaped out of his seat, the chair crashing to the floor behind him. Detective Clark stood abruptly at Robert's outburst.

"Mr. Gold!" Clark snapped.

"What the fuck is HE doing here?!" Robert was now red in the face and heaving. It wasn't helping his case.

Killian smirked, then looked sad. "I'm just here for Emma."

James cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, she's back at her office," he replied.

"What?" Robert growled.

"She's taking a leave of absence for a bit," James said. "I recommended it."

"You've always been such a good friend James," Killian mentioned. "Thanks for being there for her."

"Any time man."

"This is bullshit!" Robert muttered, still upset. "You don't have any proof I did anything. And you never will! You know why? BECAUSE I DIDN'T KILL HER!"

The detective narrowed his eyes. "Yes. But we'll still need to have your wife come in--"

"Like hell you are," Robert gritted.

Clark raised his voice. "AND your assistant at your store too. If somebody did take the murder weapon, perhaps he knows something."

Thomas! FUCK! He should have kept a better eye on things! Why the hell didn't I put in cameras? Oh gee I don't know, maybe because I trust my regulars too much?? And I don't get that many customers anyway? Damn it all to hell! Robert closed his eyes in frustration.

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