Page 70 of Want to Know a Secret?

“Her roommate said she was seeing someone.” Detective Hanrahan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little notebook. He consults it for a moment, then looks back up at us. “She said Miss Anderson was seeing a married man. You got any idea who that could have been?”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.”

The detective stands there for a moment, scratching at his reddish-brown hair. Does he know Elliot was the man Brianna was seeing? He must at least suspect. Or maybe he doesn’t. He doesn’t seem like he thinks one of us is a murderer.

“Do you have any other questions?” Elliot finally says.

Detective Hanrahan shakes his head. “Not at this moment. Thank you for your time. But if you could make yourself available in the future, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Elliot manages a half-hearted smile. “I want to cooperate in any way I can.”

The detective turns around and heads for the door. I feel a rush of relief. He’s leaving. He hasn’t accused me of anything. He doesn’t even seem that suspicious of us. But then, just before his fingers touch the doorknob, he turns around.

“One more question,” he says.

Elliot raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Who was Courtney Burns?”

I feel all the blood rush out of my face. That is the last question I wanted to hear right now.

“Courtney Burns?” Elliot repeats. He’s stalling for time. He knows very well who Courtney Burns is.

“That’s right.”

“She, uh…” Elliot squirms. “She used to be my receptionist. About five or six years ago.”

“And what happened to her?”

“She, um…” I can almost hear him swallow. “She killed herself. It was very… unfortunate.”

“Wow.” Detective Hanrahan shakes his head. “Two dead secretaries in five years. That’s pretty bad luck.”

“Right.” Elliot drops his eyes. “Like I said, it was unfortunate. But Courtney had… a lot of problems.”

“I’m sure she did.” The detective’s light blue eyes are locked on my husband. I get this horrible sinking feeling in my chest—that nice guy routine from a few minutes ago was just to get us to let down our guards. The detective thinks Elliot killed Brianna. It’s so obvious. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your breakfast. But don’t go anywhere. In case we have more questions.”

After the detective leaves, I shut the door behind him. My fingers are shaking so badly I can barely turn the deadbolt. I rest my forehead against the cool plaster on the door.

“April?”

I feel Elliot’s hand on my shoulder, and I instinctively jerk away. I turn around to face him, and I’m shocked by how pale his face is. Bobby is at the doorway to the kitchen, watching us. We need to keep our voices down.

“I can’t believe this,” Elliot murmurs.

Despite everything, I feel a surge of rage. “Why are you so upset? Brianna was threatening to destroy our lives.”

“No, she wasn’t.”

I snort. “Of course she was. She wanted you to leave me.”

He doesn’t deny it. I remember Brianna’s conviction that Elliot would leave our family to start over again with her. She seemed so sure. Maybe she was sure about it because he told her he would.

“I didn’t want her dead,” he says in a low voice.

Well, I did.

Elliot glances back at the kitchen—Bobby is gone. “And I’m screwed—a seven-year-old is my only alibi. At least you were at your book club.”