“Broken nose. Something like that.”
Sloan blinked. Once. Twice. “Thank you.” She tried for a smile and failed. “I’ll head to the station.”
“Detective Saint. Ask for him. It’s his case.”
Sloan nodded, then turned and walked away before her legs remembered to shake, back the way she’d come and into town, across the square and out the other side.
It would take a good ten minutes to walk to the police station, and her heels were already punishing her.
“What have you got yourself into, Matty?”
Chapter fifty-five
“How many more times do I have to say it?” Matty asked. Her mouth was dry, the words sticking as they came out. “I’ve told you, I don’t know anything about it. I just rent a room.”
The detective sat back in his chair and looked at her like he didn’t believe a word she was saying, and it made her want to shout, because he wasn’t seeing what was in front of him.
“I moved there earlier in the year. I got divorced. Sofa-surfed for a bit and then found this house share. That’s all I know.” The strip light above them hummed. It was too bright, making everything feel harsh.
He reached down and brought up a bag—the one she used on her days off.
“That’s my bag!”
His mouth twitched. “Are you confirming this is your bag?”
“Yes, it was in my room. Everything I own is in that room.”
“Right. So these—” He pulled the bag open and took out the two joints she’d bought from Brandon and not thought about since. “Are yours, yes?”
Matty slumped in her seat. “Yes, but it’s not— it’s just personal use. Not what you’re saying it is.”
The detective’s voice stayed calm, “Here’s the thing, Matty… Brandon…the bloke you live with—”
“I do not,” Matty scoffed. “I’m gay. I wouldn’t—”
“Brandon,” he said firmly, “is dealing. You knowthat, right?”
Matty put her elbows on the table and covered her face. “Yes, I’m aware he dabbles in that.”
“Right. And the other thing I know is that the supplier lives there too.”
Matty looked up and her hair fell into her face. Confusion pinched her features. “Then talk to Sarah.”
He looked at her blankly. “Who’s Sarah?”
“The other woman who lives there.” Matty stared at him. They had to know who lived there.
He glanced at the other officer, who’d stayed silent. She leaned forward. “On paper, it’s just you and Brandon.”
Matty shook her head. “No.” Her hair fell further into her eyes. “No, ask Brandon. Sarah’s got the top-floor room.”
The woman asked, “Why was Dean Fargo in the flat?”
Matty stared at her now. “I don’t know who he is.” The man from the kitchen flashed into her mind. “Do you mean the bloke with Brandon earlier?”
“You tell me,” she said.
Matty shrugged. “First time I’ve seen him. And he gave me the creeps. I was packing a bag. I was going to stay at my girlfriend’s.”
