Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Jamie snorted. “Same for Steph?”
“Yep.” I unlocked the car, and we both got in. “I checked the files this morning to make sure we’d covered everything Lottie threw at me last night, but we already knew it all. Steph handed us a copy of the will of her own volition and has been nothing but co-operative. Granted, that isn’t a sign of her innocence, but still.” I started the engine and pulled out of the station parking lot. “What’s the address?”
“Drive up the cliff. I’ll put it in.” Jamie leant forwards and put it into the sat nav. “Have you spoken to Lottie since she came over?”
“No. I doubt she’d want to speak to me anyway.” I turned onto the high street and pulled up at the lights, blowing out a breath. “Maybe it’s for the best.”
“Yeah, looks it,” Jamie drawled. “Can I ask her out then?”
My gaze swung his way, and I hit him with a dark look.
“That’s what I thought.” He laughed. “You’ve gotta figure it out sooner or later.”
“Let’s go for later.” I turned off the high street and took the quieter road on the way to Stephanie’s house. “What do we know about this?”
“Strange car outside, Stephanie is paranoid,” Jamie said, shrugging. “Best for her to call it in, honestly, just in case. I’d rather go up there unnecessarily.”
“True.”
We chugged along the rest of the way, and Jamie’s phone rang just as we pulled into the exclusive cul-de-sac where Stephanie Tierney lived.
I didn’t need the computer read on the plate on the car outside her house.
“Shit. That’s Charlotte’s car,” I said, pulling up behind it and getting out.
Jamie did a double-take and got out, answering his phone at the same time.
I walked over to it, and yes—Charlotte’s car. Why hadn’t that come up automatically? It should have been an immediate hit as an active suspect’s car in our investigation.
“Yeah,” Jamie said. “He doesn’t know why it didn’t come up right away.”
“What the fuck’s she doing here?”
Jamie pressed his lips together. “Do you think she came to confront her?”
“No. She wouldn’t do that.” I stopped and met his eyes, then rubbed my temple. “She would absolutely fuckin’ do that.”
He stared at me for a moment before we turned towards the house. Stephanie was standing on the front step with her arms wrapped around her waist, hugging herself.
“Oh, thank God. I went in and came right back out. I’m so nervous.”
“It’s all right, Mrs Tierney,” I said. “We’ve identified the vehicle. Do you mind if we go in?”
“Please, Stephanie. And no, come on in.” She put the key in the door and pushed it open for us to go inside. “Who does it belong to? The car?”
“Charlotte O’Neil,” I answered. “Were you expecting her?”
Stephanie frowned. “No. I’m so sorry, I feel like I should have known that. Wait—why is her car here? She’s not. The house is empty, as far as I know. I didn’t even unload my shopping.”
“Do you mind if I have a look around? Sergeant Donovan, can you knock on the neighbours’ doors and see if they saw anything this afternoon?”
Jamie nodded and left the house.
“Can I look around?” I asked again.
“No, of course. Here, let me try calling Lottie. I don’t understand.” Stephanie rifled through her bag, and I wandered into the living room. Nothing in here was out of place—it was all cream and white, almost a show home. I hated this kind of thing, but it made it easy to see if anything was amiss.
Nothing was.
“She’s not answering her phone,” Stephanie said.
“I don’t think she uses her phone for that,” I said absent-mindedly, but I didn’t miss the small smile that crept onto her face.
Fuck, Lots, where are you?
“Wait here,” I said, walking into the next room.
Nothing.
The next one, nothing.
The kitchen.
Blood.
A smear of red was on the edge of the kitchen counter, and I didn’t need to get any closer to know what that was, but I moved, going further into the room.
Nausea churned in my stomach, but I had to keep a professional cool. I couldn’t let it out, even though the very thought that she might be somehow hurt made my skin crawl with anger.
A bright pink handbag was on the floor, surrounded by its scattered contents. A Chapstick, a purse that I recognised as Lottie’s, a few receipts, and a packet of Jelly Babies.
Even without the purse, the sweets would have been enough to identify the owner of the bag.
“Is there anyone else who has access to this house aside from you?” I asked, bringing my radio close to my mouth. I called in the discovery and received an affirmative response as Steph’s eyes widened.
“Yes. Shane. Shane Solomon. He’s my friend. I was staying with him after I separated from Declan.”
“And he can access the house without you here?”
She nodded. “He has a key. Oh, do you think something’s happened? He wouldn’t hurt her!”