Spencer leans forward, elbows resting on the table. His mouth tips up at the side. “You don’t,” he confirms. “But if you’re really innocent? Trust me, you want to talk to us.”
Reid narrows his eyes, glancing between us. “Yeah, why’s that?”
“We’re your guardian angels.” If he’s innocent, there’s a high chance whoever killed Veronica and Irene is the same person who killed Leah. If we can link them to both sets of murders, we can get Reid out. If not, Sebastian will come in and sweep the floor. Either way, he’ll walk free again, hopefully sooner than later. “Tell us about Leah. You worked together, right?”
A muscle in Reid’s jaw twitches. “Yes. That’s automatic guilt, is it? There was a whole office of people that worked with her. Why was I singled out?”
Why, indeed. By all accounts, for the same reason that Colin Trine was singled out. There are mentions of sexual harassment in Reid’s case, that he had an unhealthy fixation on Anderson, and she agreed to date him because he threatened her job. Allegedly. Even that seems unusual, considering she was a prominent character on a long-running Australian soap opera. She may not have been making bank, but losing her position at the real estate agency wouldn’t have left her destitute. I can see where Sebastian is coming from; the prosecution had a field day with that line of enquiry, and it should have easily been thrown out the window by the defence.
“Rumour has it you had a soft spot for her,” Spencer says, a little suggestiveness in his tone.
“Rumour is wrong,” Reid answers flatly. “She worked in reception, and our relationship was purely professional, in all ways.”
“Because you didn’t touch her?” I repeat. Something about the wording is still niggling at me. I wish I had my phone on me, so I could look at that email again. They emptied our pockets when we came in. “A few of your colleagues confirmed that you were dating her.”
“No. She asked me out, and we went on one date. Singular.”
“Only one?” Spencer asks. “Why?”
“I… Look, I said yes because she was attractive. And then… then she wasn’t.”
I study his face, looking for any lies or hidden truths. There isn’t anything there that would suggest he’s holding back. “Not your type?”
“Her personality left a lot to be desired.”
“You didn’t know that already from working with her?”
“I guess I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did. Going on a date isn’t a crime.”
“Murder is,” Spencer says flippantly.
“Then maybe you should find the person who murdered her,” Reid fires back through gritted teeth. “But that’s too hard, right? Why bother doing the work when you already have the obvious target? Your whole fucking police force is a joke. I hope you sleep well at night, knowing that innocent people are stuck here because you can’t be fucked doing your job properly.”
There’s more to this story, and it feels like we’re close to putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “What happened after your one-and-only date?”
It takes him a second to get his anger under control. I doubt “control” is a word in his vocabulary. It’s simmering under the surface, ready to erupt at a moment’s notice. That temper wouldn’t have helped him in court, especially if he had a lawyer not worth their fee who wouldn’t have advised him how to behave.
“She wanted a second; I said no. She said I’d regret turning her down.” He snorts with ill humour. “Guess she was right.”
I tap my fingers thoughtfully on the table. “If you didn’t kill her, then who? You must have an idea.” I sit up straighter when Reid hesitates. Well, well. I didn’t expect that to get any bites. “You do. Tell us.”
“It’s not—she dated someone from the studio she worked at. After our date. Some old guy.”
Spencer leans back again, pressing our shoulders together. Our fingers brush under the table, and we share a look. “How do you know that?” he asks, tucking one hand under his armpit, studying Reid’s face.
“She kept ‘accidentally’ sending me the dirty messages she sent to him. Forwarding her calendar, with their dates on it. Trying to make me jealous, I guess.” He snorts derisively. “As if that behaviour’s appealing in any way.”
Sounds like the unhealthy fixation went the other way in this case. “Does this old guy have a name?”
“Uh—Jack something? I don’t fucking know. I deleted the messages.”
His first mistake. Never remove evidence. One of many mistakes that all ended here. “Why didn’t you offer that in court?”
“Lawyer said without the messages there was no point bringing it up,” he says, a hint of acid in his tone. “Told me to keep my mouth shut, and everything would sort itself out.”
Spencer rubs his wrist, not looking away from Reid. There’s something in his gaze. His brain’s in overdrive. What does he have? “Anything else you want to tell us?”
“Fuck off and leave me alone, so I can finish my sentence in peace?”
