Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Together we drove back to the manor. Courtney and I kept the conversation light while the girls chattered in the backseat. When we got home, Courtney took them into the kitchen for a quick snack while I prepped the sitting room for Lily’s piano lesson.
Ding-ding.
I hurried out, rushing to the door to let Mr. Layton in.
“Hello, again,” I said.
Layton stood on the welcome mat, his sheet music under one arm and his coat under the other.
He didn’t move.
“Come in, come in.” I swept aside, gesturing him in. “Lily’s finishing up her snack but she’ll be ready soon. I can get you something too while you wait—”
He dropped to his knees. Wide eyes swallowing me, Layton pitched forward—sprawling the welcome mat dead.
I took one look and clamped my hand over my mouth, screaming into my palm.
“MRS. KIM.” BALOGUN waited for me outside Lily’s room with a serious expression that bordered more on disapproving. “We have to stop meeting like this.”
“I agree,” I rasped, stomach heaving. I was glad I couldn’t see myself in Lily’s wall mirror anymore, because I looked terrible. “Have any suggestions for how I make that happen? Because mine for you is that you catch the bastard who keeps killing everyone I know.” It was a struggle not to scream.
Balogun seemed to feel the anger in my voice all the same. She pressed her lips tightly together as she gestured for me to follow her. “How is your daughter?”
“She’s fine. My friend is looking after her right now, and my husbands are on the way home.” I pressed my hand to my forehead, feeling flushed and sweaty. “Thankfully, she didn’t see him like that, but now I have to explain to her that she’ll never see her teacher again so soon after losing her grandmother. My goodness, who is doing these things, because you have to see that it’s not Mrs. Finley,” I cried, whirling on her. “You know that she’s lying about killing my mother, don’t you?”
She gazed at me steadily. “Mrs. Finley hasn’t given us a chance to question her story because she refuses to tell us. She hasn’t spoken a word since she was brought into custody except to say that she’s the killer, and she’ll give the full details to a reporter.”
It was scary how right I was about that.
“Naturally,” Balogun drawled, “that’s never going to happen. We don’t allow suspects to sensationalize their crimes for media attention. Even the thought of that is obscene and disrespectful to the victims.”
“I completely agree—in most cases.” I sighed, rubbing my temple. Together we tromped down the stairs. “But in this case, Mrs. Finley didn’t kill my mother and she definitely didn’t touch Mr. Layton. What she really wants is to give her son a voice. To speak up for him now that he’s gone. If you promise her that she’ll get plenty of coverage and attention for confessing to the crime, and strangling me, she’ll give up the lie and tell you the truth of what really happened that night.”
Her expression didn’t change. “An interesting suggestion, Mrs. Kim, but not what we’re here to discuss.” Stepping off the bottom step, she pointed to the man dead in my doorway. “I’m here for him.”
Seeing Layton like that again exploded bile up my throat. As dead bodies go, he didn’t crack my top three of the most horrifying to witness, but still, the massive knife sticking out of his spine made me want to run and hide.
Her partner leaned over that knife, examining it while he jotted down notes in his pad. On either side of him were two crime scene technicians, and behind all of them, was Officer Davis.
“Walk me through what happened here.” Balogun walked off, forcing me to follow—forcing me closer to the body.
“It’s like I told the first officer who took my statement.” I looked around for her but didn’t see her. “I heard the doorbell, went to answer it, and found Mr. Layton on the doorstep. He didn’t even get a chance to say anything. He just fell down dead with that knife in his back.”
She hummed, her eagle eyes sweeping the doorframe. “And you didn’t see or hear anyone else?”
“No.”
“Why did you get rid of your security cameras?”
“I—” The question penetrated. “Wait, what?”
“Why,” she asked slowly, “do you not have security cameras?” Stepping over the body, she crooked her finger for me to follow. “I noticed that the last time we were here when the mob you whipped up knocked me on my ass.”
I sensed she was expecting me to throw an apology into that awkward pause, but I didn’t. Scurrying around Kaplan, I went to see what she was pointing at.
“There, there, and there.” Balogun’s finger jabbed the air. “You have mounts for security cameras, but no cameras.”
“We—”
“It’s the same for your gate,” she sliced in. “You have the booth for a guard, but instead of hiring one, you replaced the automatic opener.”