Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,112

all about Rachel!”

“For the love of Prada, if you want the bloody locket, take it.” She was about to pass out. She could feel it creeping into the edges of her consciousness. Sam had to call for help. There was something seriously wrong.

“Oh, I don’t want it now,” Samantha said with a cruel smile. “Because, dear cousin, I know exactly where it’s been.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“Want me to get a bucket of water?” Ryan sounded a little overeager as Harvard checked their detainee.

“No, he’s coming around. You with us, Rupert?”

There was a groan from the floor. “What?” His glazed eyes cleared somewhat. “Rachel. Dear God. Rachel.” He struggled to get up, and Harvard and Ryan helped him back into the chair.

As soon as he was there, he flipped over the photo of Rachel’s attack so he couldn’t see the image, then rubbed his hands on his thighs. As if trying to remove the contact with the photo. “You think I did that?” Hysteria rose in his voice. “You think I…I…I can’t even say it! You think I sexually assaulted my own cousin?”

“Ryan,” Harvard said to his teammate, who stood beside the door, “get Rupert a glass of water.” Before he emptied his stomach all over the floor.

Ryan slipped out and returned a few seconds later with a bottle of water. He handed it to Rupert, who took a sip before grimacing.

“Someone’s been sending Rachel photos of an attack that happened ten years ago,” Harvard said, keeping his voice low and calm. “When the photos didn’t get the desired result, they sent a video. My teammates hacked the data on the video, and it turns out it was taken with your phone.”

“No,” Rupert said on a gasp. “No.” He vehemently shook his head. “I had nothing to do with this. Nothing. How can you even think that? She’s my cousin. I love her. This is…abhorrent.”

Harvard sat back in his seat. “Somebody set up her rape. Somebody filmed it. Yours is the only name on the video file.”

Rupert slapped the bottle onto the table, making the water splash out. “I’m telling you; I had nothing to do with this. I would never do something like that. Not to Rachel. Not to anyone. I don’t know how my name got on the file. If I did, I’d tell you.”

The comm unit in Harvard’s ear sprang to life. “I think he’s telling the truth,” Lake said.

Unfortunately, Harvard agreed. He leaned forward. “I need you to tell me everything about the night it happened.”

“How am I supposed to know when that was?”

“I’m going to tell you.” Harvard put that famed patience of his to good use. “It was the twenty-second of July, exactly ten years ago. Rachel was in London during college vacation and working as an intern at TayFor.”

Rupert nodded furiously. “Yes. I remember. It was her last holiday before going into her final year. We spent the summer partying through London’s nightclubs. Until—” With a shaky hand, he lifted the water to his mouth and took a sip. He swallowed hard. “Until she suddenly cut everything short and moved back to Glasgow.” His eyes welled up, and it was clear he was fighting the urge to cry. “I thought she’d just had a better offer from her friend Harry. She left me a message saying he had a great idea for a business. One that would make them a fortune. And he needed her straight away.” A trembling finger pointed at the photo. “But this was why she returned?”

Harvard nodded, feeling sorry for the guy. “Were you out together on that last night? The night before she left?”

Rupert ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Back then, I spent most of my time drunk and on the pull. If I managed to pick up a girl, I often left Rachel and Sam to fend for themselves while I took my date home.”

“Samantha?” Everything within Harvard stilled.

Rupert nodded. “The three of us tore up London that year.”

“Is it possible you were out clubbing the night this happened and that Samantha was there too?”

Rupert looked horrified. “You don’t think my sister had anything to do with this?”

“Just answer the question. Is it possible?”

A tear ran down Rupert’s face. “What day of the week was the twenty-second of July?”

“A Saturday,” Lake’s voice said in his ear.

“Saturday,” Harvard told Rupert.

“Then, yeah, the three of us were together.” The tears were falling hard now. “We went out every single Saturday that summer. It was a joke among the