Chapter 104: Obsessive Love

Dorian gave her a polite smile. "Hi. Mrs Carter?"

"Yes."

"My name is Dorian Heathcliffe. I’m a criminal attorney. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about an old friend of yours."

"Who?"

"Marianne Bennett."

One brow lifted. "Aren’t you thirteen years too late?"

"It’s an investigation into a related case, and I’d just like some information."

Not technically the truth. Not completely a lie either. Dorian had never formally become Marianne’s attorney. She had made it extremely clear that she did not want one.

Unfortunately for her, after the number of hours he had spent digging through her case, rereading transcripts, tracking down witnesses and trying to find a way to get her out of prison without destroying Naomi’s life, Dorian had mentally appointed himself anyway.

Marianne simply had not been informed of the promotion.

Denise opened the door wider. "Come in."

"Thank you." Dorian stepped inside.

The house was warm and lived-in, it felt different from his townhouse. Family photographs covered one wall. A blanket sat folded over the arm of the sofa. There were books stacked on a side table and a mug sitting beside them.

Denise gestured toward the sofa. Dorian sat. She took the chair opposite him. "So, what questions do you have?"

Dorian leaned forward slightly. "I wanted to know what kind of man Mr Bennett was."

"Raymond?"

"Yes."

"Raymond Bennett was the perfect husband, a doting father and a philanthropist."

"Mrs Carter," he said quietly. "I didn’t come here looking for the version people told reporters. I’m not interested in what everyone was supposed to believe thirteen years ago. I need the truth, Mrs Carter."

"It is the truth," Denise said. "A man can be all of those things and still be a son of a bitch."

That sounded considerably more believable.

Denise settled farther into her chair, her expression turning distant as though she were looking into the past. "He loved his wife. Obsessively so. But the problem was, Raymond only knew how to communicate with his fists. He adored his family, but he couldn’t bear the slightest possibility of anything taking them away from him, so he controlled everything."

"How?"

"He had to know where Marianne was at all times. Where she was going, when she would be back, who she was speaking to. She couldn’t have male friends." Denise gave a humorless little laugh. "Hell, she couldn’t really have friends at all. The only reason I got away with being her friend was because I lived across the street. I was as close to home as possible."

Someone Raymond could keep an eye on without having to leave his front window.

Dorian had met enough controlling men professionally to know the pattern. "Do you know why?" he asked.

Denise gave him a long look. "Hmmm. You mean, was there an excuse? It’s okay. I call them excuses. Marianne made enough of them for him to last a lifetime. Raymond’s first wife left him."

Oh boy.

This was beginning to sound disturbingly familiar.

"Marianne always said he was terrified history would repeat itself. That he’d loved before, lost before, and now he was just trying to make sure nobody could take his family away from him."

Dorian’s mouth tightened. Emotional damage had been excusing terrible behavior long before he personally discovered the concept.

"She would say that was why he had such a chokehold on them," Denise continued. "And she believed it too. Completely. But you should have seen Raymond with his girl."

"His daughter?"

"Yes. Forgotten her name now. It was beautiful to see," Denise said. "Whatever else Raymond was, he adored that child. She was his little princess. Followed him everywhere when she was small. He spoiled her rotten when he was in a good mood."

"Wait." Dorian leaned forward. "So he was good to his girl. Never hit her? Never abused her?"

He could use this. This was good information.

"Oh no," Denise said quickly. "She was young, of course. Who knew what he would have become when she got older?" she sighed. "I’ll say what Marianne did was heroic. Too bad she had a crappy lawyer."

More like self-sabotage. From what he had learned from Marianne, Marianne’s lawyer could have been Clarence Darrow himself and still struggled if his own client kept dismantling the defense from inside.

She had denied the abuse. Refused to let anyone build the obvious self-defense argument. Marianne hadn’t lost because nobody fought for her. She had made sure nobody could.

"And when I heard she died..." Denise shook her head. "Oh Lord."

Dorian’s gaze dropped briefly.

Another lie.

Another piece of Naomi’s life that had been constructed for her by people who believed they knew what was best. And now he had joined the team. He really needed to hurry the fuck up and tell her everything or he was no better than everyone else.

"One last question, Mrs Carter. Mr Bennett. Was he having any financial troubles? Anything that would explain why his daughter would be struggling financially now."

Denise thought about it.

"None that I know of, really. They weren’t millionaires or anything, but Marianne once mentioned he had a nest egg."

Yeah, he knew about that or at least he knew enough about the money to know Naomi’s current life didn’t make sense.

Millions attached to her name. Years of working herself half to death. The simplest explanation was that Naomi wanted nothing to do with it.

Maybe she hated her father enough to reject whatever he had left behind. Why else would a woman potentially worth ten million dollars work herself to the bone?

It made sense.

Dorian stood. "Mrs Carter, you’ve been of tremendous help. If the time comes and I need your statement as a witness, would you be willing to step forward?"

"Of course."

Then her eyes narrowed slightly.

"What case are you working on again?"

"It’s confidential at the moment. I’ll let you know when I need you. Thank you, Mrs Carter."