Rosalyn looked aghast. ‘I had every right to blame her,’ she fired back loudly. ‘She should have been keeping a better eye on Finlay and apart from anything else, I was out of my mind with fear and panic! Do you have any idea what it’s like to lose your husband and then discover your child is missing and all the time be terrified that his body might be found in the river? Do you have the slightest understanding of what that might feel like?’
‘I’d appreciate you not raising your voice at me,’ Venetia said sternly. ‘Or giving me a lecture on how I might feel. Thanks to your son, my dog is dead.’
‘It’s hardly the same thing,’ Rosalyn responded. ‘You can easily buy another dog! My son is irreplaceable.’
‘Then maybe you should take better care of him. What’s more,you should teach your son that it’s not right to steal someone’s beloved pet.’
‘He didn’t steal your dog.’
‘What would you call it, then?’
‘He thought it would be nice to take the dog for a walk instead of it being cooped up in your apartment, where he shouldn’t have been in the first place!’
Steadying herself and her left hand gripping the door firmly, Venetia said, ‘For a person who came here to apologise, you don’t sound the slightest bit sorry.’
‘You didn’t want my apology, so what else can I do?’
‘I want to know the truth. I want to know what your son did with my dog. Bon-Bon would not have gone into the river, he hated water, so tell me why he ended up drowning in the river.’
Rosalyn’s eyes blazed and she looked like she might actually strike Venetia. ‘If you’re suggesting what I think you are, then you’re deranged! It was a dreadful accident. Finlay isn’t even five years old, he wouldn’t harm a fly, never mind a dog. What you’re implying is disgusting!’
‘I still want to know what happened. Something, or someone, made Bon-Bon go into the water and your son is the only person who knows the truth. If he’s told you anything, you should tell me. You owe me that much because if it wasn’t for your son, my dog would still be alive.’
Her face flushed, Rosalyn said, ‘This is harassment. You need to stop saying these awful things.’
‘And you need to leave.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Hearing the door to the apartment slam shut, Cassie swung round from the full-length window where she’d been watching Emily jogging. She’d been out there for ages, pounding along in the squelchy rain-sodden grass, pushing herself at a punishing pace, doubtless trying to exorcise last night from her mind.
Cassie had offered to keep her company, but Emily had said that she needed to be on her own. Not that Cassie had really wanted to go for a run with her daughter, she’d wanted to take advantage of Finlay not having his mother around for a few minutes so she could discreetly interrogate him. She’d promised Venetia that she’d try and talk to the boy in the hope of throwing light on what had happened last night and so the minute Rosalyn had gone to see Venetia, and at Cassie’s suggestion, she’d done just that.
But what she’d managed to get out of the boy had shocked her and she didn’t know what to do with the knowledge she now had.
‘Your friend and neighbour is a crazy psycho!’ blasted Rosalyn, stomping into the room.
‘You can’t surely be talking about Venetia,’ Cassie said.
‘I certainly am. She’s as good as accused Finlay of killing her dog! Can you think of anything more sick or twisted?’
In view of what she now knew, Cassie said nothing. But then Rosalyn suddenly looked around her.
‘Where’s Finlay?’ she demanded. ‘You said you wouldn’t let him out of your sight while I went downstairs. You promised!’
‘Calm down, he’s—’
‘Don’t you dare tell me to calm down in that irritatingly patronising way! My son is all I have left in the world!’
‘I’ll say it again,’ Cassie said patiently, alarmed at the 0-to-60 speed of Rosalyn’s temper, ‘calm down and listen to me. Finlay is in his bedroom watchingBlueyon his iPad.’
Perhaps not trusting Cassie, Rosalyn glared at her and hurtled across the room and to the bedroom at the farthest end of the hallway.
Murmured voices followed and Cassie was left wondering how to break it to Rosalyn what Finlay had just shared with her. And should she tell Venetia what she’d learnt? She shuddered at the thought. Wouldn’t it be better that Venetia never knew what really happened so she could hang on to the belief that it was no more than a tragic accident?
Because the truth was repugnant. So shockingly repugnant Cassie now regretted involving herself. Playing at being detective had been a mistake. She’d done it with the right motive, but it had backfired on her badly for she was now embroiled in something that could have appalling repercussions.
To begin with, when she’d gone into Finlay’s room and sat on the bed with him, subtly dropping leading questions into the conversation, he’d barely looked at her while replying, his eyes focused on the screen of his iPad. She’d wondered if he was making it up, but when she’d probed further, it became all too hideously clear what he was saying.
