This was the first time I’d been in Alex’s room. Unlike Micah who lived here for seven years but still barely moved in, Alex had made the space his home.
A massive big-screen television covered half the hideous wallpaper on the back wall while photos of Lily through the years covered all the rest. He got rid of the old four-poster bed that used to be in here and replaced it with a king-sized, black silk-covered mattress with a silver chrome frame.
Instead of a desk, he had a cozy, carpeted corner with books, arts and crafts supplies, and a small table for Lily to play and work on her assignments.
“Sue, you okay?”
“Why don’t we have security cameras anymore?”
“Security cameras?” Crossing to the en suite, Alex went in, then came out holding a washcloth. “Why are you asking about that? You know why we got rid of them.”
“Pretend I don’t know.”
“Pretend... you don’t know?”
My intensity didn’t let up. “Yes.”
“Okay.” Alex dropped down, cleaning up the spill. “The one we got was too sensitive. The floodlights went crazy over every squirrel and butterfly that went past. Then, if that wasn’t enough, it started malfunctioning. The alarm would go off for no reason and scare Lily, and one night—at three in the fucking morning—it wouldn’t turn off even though we entered the right code a dozen times.
“We got rid of it the next morning, and haven’t gotten around to getting a new one.”
Whoops. All of that did sound like something Sue would know. You don’t forget an alarm waking you at three a.m. and screaming at you nonstop for the rest of the morning.
“Okay, thank you. I did know that,” I fudged, “but I wanted to hear how it sounded from someone else. Because when I told Balogun all of this, she looked at me like I handed her the smoking gun.”
“The smoking gun? Wait. The cops can’t seriously think we had anything to do with Mr. C’s murder— Which I can’t believe I’m saying out loud.” Alex groaned, falling back on his bed. “What the hell is going on around here, Sue? Why was there a murdered man on our doorstep this afternoon! How are we going to explain this to Lily?” Alex bolted up and grabbed my wrist.
I squeaked as I came plopping down next to him.
“Was everything okay when you picked Lily up from school?” Alex flipped on his side. Throwing his arm across my lap, he drew me close—drawing little circles on my hip.
The complete casualness of the touch brought back my shivers and clammies.
“Did you notice anyone weird? Anyone”—his grip tightened on me—“following you? Watching you guys?”
I shook my head. “No one. I didn’t notice anyone hanging around the manor or lurking in the bushes either. I have to believe I would’ve noticed if someone was. I’ve been so on edge lately. All of my senses are on high alert.”
“Same.”
“But you’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?” I lay down next to him, meeting his eyes across the silken sheets. “This wasn’t random. The person who killed Layton also killed my mother and Mrs. Prado.”
“How can that be? Layton has nothing to do with your mother,” he said. “They didn’t even speak.”
“He was upstairs when that beast went after my mother. Layton told me he was reading in the library the whole time, but we’ll never know if that’s true now. Maybe he saw something he wasn’t supposed to, and the killer silenced him.”
“Silenced him a day after some woman who attacked and tried to killyouwas arrested for their crime? And hang on,” he cried. “When did you decide Mrs. Finley was innocent?”
“I knew ten minutes into our conversation.”
I told him why—explaining how she didn’t know Mrs. Prado was dead until I told her, and she wouldn’t have done a thing that would’ve taken her away from Colin.
“It makes sense,” he gave in. “But it doesn’t make sense that after getting away with two murders because someone else confessed to them, he’d kill someone else in the same way and draw the police’s attention again. Why didn’t he cut Layton’s brakes or something? Make it look like an unrelated accident— And what the fuck am I saying?” Alex bolted up, tossing his head. “I’m talking about someone I knew. A real person with a real family—not a character in a game of Clue.
“Sue, I’m sorry, but this has to stop. I knowshe was your mother and that you cared about Mrs. Prado, but you’ve already been attacked once.” Tender fingers stroked my neck. “The detectives have guns, training, and partners for a reason—because this is dangerous. Did you even consider for a second what you would’ve done if the person who stabbed Mr. C was standing right next to him when you opened the door!
“I can’t— I don’t even—” He hugged me, crushing me to his chest. “I wasn’t even fucking here!” he burst out, surprising me. “This could’ve been so bad, and where was I? Not where I was supposed to be—with you and our daughter.
“Promise me.” He pulled back, boring into me. “Promise me you’re done playing sleuth, because I promise you we’ll have a new security system installed around this entire place by this time tomorrow.”
