Holland looks at Gelman, who raises her eyebrows. I feel Sinclair tense beside me.
“Then enlighten us, Brie,” Holland says with a growl. “What did you kill her with?”
CHAPTER FIFTY
“Thank you,” I say to the lawyer, once we’re outside in the parking lot. I’m shaking, but despite the detectives’ best efforts, I stuck to my story.
Grace committed suicide, and Bradley is a liar.
They poked and prodded for another hour, but I didn’t admit the truth, and they had no more cards to play. Because I was right. There’s no physical evidence that Grace was killed with a knife.
Eventually, they had to let me go.
Sinclair is about to return inside the station when I touch his arm. “Wait. Can I ask a question? Why did they reopen the investigation?”
He takes off his glasses and squints at me. “I don’t understand.”
“They’ve found her remains. The police closed the investigation. Why did they reopen it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“That’s what Bradley said.”
“The investigation was never closed. And I think if we can take one lesson from today, it’s that you cannot trust anything Mr. Little has ever said. I’m not across everything yet, but itseems to me that he manipulated you from start to finish. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better.”
I look away to the security lights and try to imagine that I’m somewhere else, in some other life. No Bradley, no Neil, no police.
“They tricked me with that knife,” I say, remembering how I reacted.
“They did find her DNA on it. But yes, they tricked you. They’re hoping more evidence will come to light before they charge you. They’re going over that house with a fine-toothed comb. But they don’t have a case against you, yet. They know this. That’s why you’re out here and not in jail. It’s why your name won’t be in the papers tomorrow.”
“It’s only a matter of time before they find something,” I say. “Bradley planned this from the beginning, didn’t he? Before he even hired me?”
“It’s not worth dwelling on. Let’s deal with the facts in front of us.”
“It’s because he couldn’t get her money in a divorce. So he hired a stupid woman and framed her for murder. He knew exactly how to make me fall for him, and I did. He fooled me every step of the way.”
He lets this comment hang without a rebuttal. “I have your number. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks again. You’re pretty good for someone court-appointed. Or whatever the term is.”
Sinclair turns and walks back inside the police station without another word. I guess I’ve offended him.
I walk over to my Mazda, grateful that the police let me follow them to the station. But where will I sleep tonight? I can’t go back to Pine Ridge. I have a few hundred dollars to my name. Maybe I can stay at a campsite or a budget motel and figure out the rest of my life tomorrow.
For all I know, I might not have many days of freedom left.
I unlock the car, and as I ease into the front seat, I let out a yell of anguish. Sinclair’s right. Bradley tricked me. He saw me for exactly what I am—a sheltered, stupid woman with a Cinderella complex. I desperately wanted Grace’s life, and so I fell for every compliment, every line, every move.
I thought I had it, too. I thought I was in love.
“I’m an idiot,” I whisper. “I’m such an idiot.”
As I start the engine, I hear movement in the backseat, followed by a familiar voice.
“You don’t say.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
