I follow her down the steps and back up the driveway. A tall, blond man, presumably the other detective, steps out of the old barn and walks quickly towards us.
“Nice place,” he says, nodding to me. He’s holding a small plastic bag that looks to be filled with red soil. Of course, he saw the lamb’s blood in the barn. “All done?”
Detective Gelman waves him off, and he continues up the drive.
“Thank you for your time,” she says. “Those earrings are stunning, by the way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Diamond earrings. Where did you get them?”
“They’re from an ex,” I say quickly.
“He didn’t want them back?”
I shake my head, and she lets out a low whistle. “He must be loaded. They’re worth five figures, easy.”
She stares at me, waiting for my response, and when I don’t give one, she turns and walks away.
CHAPTER FORTY
“Do you realize how stupid you are?”
It’s midnight, and I’ve been yelling at Bradley intermittently for the last three hours. He looks exhausted, but I still don’t feel like I’ve made him suffer enough.
“She thinks I’m guilty.”
“She thinks everyone’s guilty. That’s her job. She considers everyone in turn. But at the end of the day, there’s no evidence.”
“How do you know that?” I see my reflection in Bradley’s bedroom window. I’m back in my old shorts and T-shirt, and I’ve returned the earrings I took. “Did you really think it was a good idea not to warn me?”
“We’ve gone over this. You needed to appear natural.”
“There was never going to be anything natural about it. I’m covering up a murder!” I pace up and down the bedroom, while Bradley remains on the bed like a statue, impassive, unemotional.
“Detectives need evidence. Lots of evidence. They can’t just tell the jury someone was acting a little weird during an interview. And guess what? There isn’t any evidence for them to find. Grace will look like she got disoriented in the fires. Ormaybe she jumped off the bridge on her own volition. Either way, case closed.”
“How can you be so sure of yourself?”
“Because I’m thinking rationally! What would you have me do?”
“Call a lawyer. Get real advice.”
“We can’t call a lawyer. I’m the victim here, remember? My beloved wife has gone missing, and I’m sick to death about it.”
He’s right—it would be a mistake to call a lawyer. It would just give the police another reason to take an even closer look at Pine Ridge.
“I should move out then.”
“What would that achieve? They’ll think you’re on the run.”
“I won’t run. I’ll just get out of here.” I walk up to the window, close enough to see through myself to the outside world. “Until it’s over.”
“Away from me, you mean?” I can see him in the reflection, looking at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He gets up from the bed and walks slowly towards me. I’m reminded of a lion, strolling through the expanse. I feel his strong arm around my waist, his lips on my neck.
