“I’m not sure, but it’s the only lead we have. It makes the most sense, but we still haven’t found everyone’s secrets. What if we don’t have all the pieces yet?”
“Who would want to warn you? They didn’t just collar you in the hallway, they trashed your room.” I point out, the idea of someone toying with her has the hairs on my arms stand on end. A close friend would have told her directly; anyone else would trash her room and leave blood-red messages. The two have such a drastic gap.
Something flashes across Robin’s face and she taps her index finger against the light marble. “Before the dinner party last night, Jay said he wanted to speak to me. He knew we were looking into who murdered Corbin.”
“For real? Did he say anything else?” I stand a little taller, feeling a little off kilter at this new piece of information.
“After everything—” she waves a hand in the air but I see the way her expression crashes. “I forgot. He said we’d speak after the dinner party, but I didn’t see him again.”
“I stayed downstairs whilst you all went to bed, but he didn’t resurface.” Cardinal frowns, absently stirring his tea. “Do you know if he went back to his room?”
We both shake our heads. “Bran didn’t seem to know where he was either. Remember? He asked at the dinner table.” Man, I feel like a terrible friend. Not only have I let my band mate down, but I spend most of the year on tour with Jay too.
“I’ll check on him. I want to hear what he has to say about last night. God knows what's going on with Mavis.” The whole thing seems a mess, and I get the sense he’s involved with her too.
“This feeling is niggling at me that the secrets have something to do with all this, but I just can't piece it together. We should work quicker on finding them. When I wrote Featherton, I scattered clues and pieces of information to start, but the main piece that could glue them all together came at the end.”
I think of her novel and how the story flowed, which characters were killed or clues they found; nothing made sense unless you knew the killer's motivation. The wife's husband had been unfaithful and so anyone who turned a blind eye or was involved got punished. We can't connect the message to the guest, without knowing the motivation towards her. Are they warning Robin about someone wanting to harm her, or is the person responsible for Corbin’s murder fucking with her?
God dammit, will they come after her next? The thought hits me like a brick, and without hesitation my body moves towards her, rounding the island to be closer.
Fuck. The warning could be about me.
I couldn't let her find out there might be more than just one liar in this hotel.
Detective Starling emerges into the kitchen, dirty shoes still scuffing the floors and his crumpled sleeves are rolled up. “The rooms are all clear, nothing else was touched.”
“I know, I just checked,” Cardinal shrugs.
“You shouldn't be doing anything. Any of you. Do you not know to leave things to the police force? Don't touch evidence or place yourself where there could be some.” Starling reigns himself in from shouting, pointing a finger at him, which he only looks down on.
“Force? You seriously can’t think you and Goldie are a force.” Cardinal chuckles, and I seriously have to praise him for his brazenness.
He sucks in a long breath, running a hand through his slick brown hair and exhales finally before he turns beet red. “I'mgoing to ignore that,” He turns to Robin. “Have you found all the clues in this stupid murder mystery game you were all brought here for?”
Eyebrows raised, she points to herself. “Me?”
Looking around the kitchen he nods. “Am I asking anyone else? Yes, you, Miss Osbourne. Miss Claythorne said you were smart and could find them all. We’ve been told about the secrets, and I want them.”
“Yeah, that's not fucking happening,” Cardinal nearly spits, causing him to do the same breathing technique.
“Watch your language,” he grits. “I’m in charge here, I want the rest of the secrets. Get the guests together and tell them. You have a new afternoon activity.” He turns to leave but halts, placing his hands in his pockets as he faces me. I'm taken slightly back by being his sole focus and I do the same, placing my own hands into my short pockets.
“Mr Hastings, can you explain to me your past relationship with a guest here, Miss Beckett-Rivera?”
I frown. “Who?”
“Are you joking? You don't know Willow's full name?” Cardinal glares at me, and I actually start to itch. God, why do I look like a complete arsehole whenever anything involves that woman?
“I'm not a complete cock, I’ve only known her as Rivera. That's her Mum’s model agency.” I shift, feeling ten times warmer and my clothes are all sticky. Robin rolls her eyes at me and I twitch under the scrutiny.
Starling must find this amusing because he beams, even just for a second but I don't miss it. I think he's asking these questions to evoke something between us. Leave the three of us agitated.
“Not very well then. How about Lily Claythorne?”
“I've never touched her in my life,” I rasp, pointing my finger at him. “What are you trying to insinuate? I’m pretty sure you can't do that as a detective.” I'm kicking in the dark, wanting the conversation to end. I've never touched Lily, wouldn'tever, but my feet feel like sliding out on cracking ice that might reveal more truths than I want to. I haven't touched her, but I've been placed in her path for reasons even Phin doesn't know about. No one knows now, the only other person who did was found floating in a swimming pool days ago.
Rounding on her next, Starling no longer phrases his questions inquisitively. “Did you know your name is on the deed to the house?”
