Читать книгу Her Sister’s Secret - E.V. Seymour - Страница 23

“I’ve never seen it before.” The conviction in Nate’s voice blew me away.

Like me, he knew it was Scarlet’s bracelet and yet he’d lied. The thought of how it had fallen into Mrs Bowen’s hands made me queasy. Slag, she’d said. Christ, if Scarlet had been involved in a relationship with Richard Bowen, it changed the entire picture.

“And you?” Childe said, hawk-eyed.

“Me?” I said.

“Yes.”

The muscles in Nate’s thighs, inches from mine, tightened, the sofa complaining under his silent protest. “I can’t be sure,” I lied. Childe’s eyes locked on mine. Buckling under his gaze, I mumbled, “She might have had something similar, but I’m not certain it’s the same one.” It was a pretty rubbish attempt to blur the truth.

“Okay,” Childe said, in a way that assured me it was not okay at all. He got straight on his phone, all the while glaring at the pair of us. After reporting the incident with Mrs Bowen, he mentioned the bracelet. When someone spoke back, he stepped out into the hallway. I heard him say something about ‘escalating the investigation’, which could only be bad. Nate turned to me, fury in his expression.

“Why, in God’s name, did you admit it could be hers?”

“Don’t have a go at me. Why did you lie?” I spat back.

“To protect my wife’s reputation.”

“Are you sure it’s not your reputation?” I conveniently parked any suggestions about my sister’s private life. “You’re a hypocrite, Nate.”

His jaw clenched. At that close proximity, I could almost hear his teeth grind his fillings to dust.

“According to Fliss Fiander, Scarlet suspected you were having an affair. Hell, she probably knew.”

“She had no damn right to say such a terrible thing.”

“Scarlet or Fliss?” I sniped back.

Nate tensed. Lines carved deep grooves in his forehead and his eyes became angry slits. “It’s none of your business.”

Given the circumstances, I strongly disagreed, and I was furious with Nate for making me his secret-keeper.

“How do you think Scarlet’s bracelet wound up in Heather Bowen’s hand –by teleportation?” Nate didn’t wait for an answer. “The woman must have gone through her husband’s things and found it.”

As one picture smashed in my head, another ugly image revealed itself. The note now assumed new significance. Scarlet was apologising for what she was about to do, not something she had already done. She’d planned it. That note, damn it, demonstrated a degree of premeditation. And Nate had burnt it.

Tears sprung to his eyes. “Even if she were sleeping with Bowen or having sex with someone else, what the fuck does it matter? She’s dead.” He let out a weary ragged sigh. “Don’t you see that I’m trying to protect her?”

The sincerity in Nate’s expression made my pulse jive. He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped. Childe was back. Focused. Determined.

“We’re going to need to conduct a search of the property, Nate.”

“Why? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“We know that,” Childe said, with a modicum of sympathy. “And I genuinely understand.”

“Do you? Have you ever lost a wife?”

“No,” he said plainly. “But I have plenty of experience of those who have.”

“Not quite the same thing, is it?”

“Nate,” I said, glancing at Childe, desperate to dial down Nate’s bellicosity. “The guy is simply doing his job, trying to help.” It’s what Dad would say.

“Molly’s right, Nate,” Childe said, flashing me an appreciative look.

Nate glowered then let out an enormous sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“Good.” Childe seemed glad the conversational dynamics had altered in his favour. “Did either of you have laptops or computers?”

Nate’s pallor turned a shade lighter. “Well, yeah.”

“We’ll need those too.”

Nate closed his eyes. “Jesus,” he said, not angrily, as if he was cursed but as if the game was up. Was Nate worried a taste for porn would be disclosed, or concerned that emails to a woman he was sleeping with would be revealed? And what about Scarlet?

Everything seemed to be running away, notching up several gears. “Isn’t this a little over the top? It’s not a murder investigation.” As my words broke loose, I sparked inside. If the police could prove beyond any reasonable doubt that Scarlet deliberately targeted Bowen, she would be branded a murderer.

“Standard procedure in the circumstances,” Childe cut in. “Along with checking Scarlet’s phone records and call log.”

“Fuck’s sake.” A vein in Nate’s temple stood out proud.

“Is that a problem for you, Nate?” Childe’s tone was even, but his expression razor sharp.

Nate tilted his head, jutted out his chin. Guarded. I shot him a look. “Nope.”

“Good,” Childe said. “Is there somewhere close you can go for a few days?”

“He can stay with me.” This time Nate shot me a look.

From the expression on Childe’s face, he clearly favoured my suggestion. “We may need to ask further questions.”

My thoughts entirely and the only reason I was about to take Nate captive.

“What sort of questions?” Nate said.

Clues to whether Scarlet had a prior relationship with Richard Bowen, whether or not she had a motive to harm him, I thought. I bet her bracelet would fall under the forensic microscope too. Whatever I believed or wanted to believe; I couldn’t argue with the facts.

“Simply routine,” Childe said, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.

“Ridiculous.”

Forcing a breezy note into my voice and looking Childe directly in the eye, I said, “That’s settled then.” And before Nate could protest, I added. “I’ll give you my address and contact number.”