CHAPTER TWELVE
WYNTER
The days blur into one.
It’s been four since I found Anika.
Four days of silence. Of empty rooms. Of Ray barely looking at me, let alone speaking. He leaves early, returns late, and when he does come back, he shuts himself away like the rest of us don’t exist.
Catherine came to help, but even she can’t reach him.
It’s just before three in the morning when my phone rings. I fumble along the bedside cabinet until my hand rests on my phone. I glance at the screen keeping one eye closed. It’s Holly. I answer.
“It’s Ray,” she says before I can speak. “You might want to come down. Dale asked me to call you.”
My stomach twists. I don’t know what good I’ll be. He can’t even stand to look at me lately, but I’m already moving.
I pull on my dressing gown and head downstairs, my heart pounding harder with every step.
The casino is quieter than usual, the low hum of voices and clinking glasses echoing through the near-empty space.
I spot Holly at the bar. She gives me an awkward shrug and tilts her head towards Ray.
My breath catches.
He’s draped over a woman I’ve never seen before, his arm slung loosely around her shoulders, his head dipped too close to hers. And they’re laughing together, like nothing happened.
Dale steps up beside me, his eyes going to where Ray is.
“He’s been at it for hours,” he mutters. “I didn’t want him walking into the apartment with her and you finding out like that.”
I turn on him sharply. “So, you thought I’d prefer to see it here?”
His jaw tightens. “I thought you should know.”
“Know what?” I snap. “That he’s moved on already?”
“He’s a mess,” Dale says quietly. “And you haven’t been together long.
” I tense, and he pauses, wincing slightly.
“I just thought . . .” He hesitates, then exhales.
“I like you, Wynter. I think you would’ve been good for him.
But right now,” he glances towards Ray, “he’s making it pretty clear he wants you gone. ”
The air leaves my lungs.
Gone.
“Is that what he said?”
Dale shrugs. “Isn’t it obvious?”
My arms wrap around myself instinctively, like I can hold everything together long enough to stay upright. If I leave, I have nowhere else to go. Except home.
“Hey,” Ray’s voice cuts through everything. He stumbles towards me, unsteady on his feet, dragging the woman with him. “There she is,” he slurs, grinning like this is all some kind of joke.
I stare, not moving as he closes the distance.
“I thought I’d bring us a guest back,” he continues, pulling the woman tighter into his side. “The bed’s big enough for three.”
The woman giggles, and my face burns with embarrassment.
“I told her you’re new to it,” he adds, his eyes glinting cruelly. “Inexperienced. She’s more than happy to show you a few things.”
Something inside me snaps. I narrow my eyes. “Fuck you.”
He laughs, glancing at the woman who follows his lead and laughs too.
My heart twists painfully, my face burning brighter with humiliation.
“I’m going to bed,” I say, holding his gaze. “Alone.” I take a breath. “And I’ll be gone in the morning.”
I turn to walk away, needing distance before I fall apart in front of all of them, but Ray grabs me. His fingers clamp around my arm and yank me back, my body jolting with the force.
“About time you took the hint,” he spits, his words slurred but sharp enough to cut. “I don’t think I’ve said two words to you since she died and still you hang around.”
My heart aches, like it’s being squeezed harder than my arm.
“I . . . you’re hurting me,” I whisper, my voice small, nothing like the strength I had a moment ago.
His gaze drops to where he’s holding me. For a second, something flickers. Then it’s gone.
“Come on, Ray, leave it,” Dale says, stepping in, his tone calm but firm as he pries Ray’s hand from my arm. “Sleep it off. Talk tomorrow.”
Ray mutters something under his breath, something I don’t quite catch, before turning away and storming towards the elevator.
Alone. The doors close behind him with a quiet finality.
Dale turns to the woman, dismissing her with a look. “Go home.” She doesn’t argue, shrugging as she turns on her heel and leaves.
And then it’s just us.
“Are you okay?” he asks, gently.
I shake my head, my vision blurring as the tears finally spill over. “I really liked him,” I admit, the words breaking on the way out.
Dale’s expression softens. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Catherine looks up from her newspaper as I drop my bag by the front door with a thud.
I didn’t sleep. Not really. I lay there staring at the ceiling until the sky turned yellow, then got up, packed my things, cleaned my room like I was erasing myself from it, and said goodbye to Anika.
That’s the part that nearly broke me. This place . . . it’s where I feel closest to her. And now, I’m leaving it behind.
“Off on holiday?” Catherine asks lightly, folding the paper in her lap with a small smile.
I let out a hollow laugh. “I think we both know I’m not needed here anymore.”
Her smile fades. “That’s not true, Wynter. He needs you now more than ever.”
“Does he?” I ask, my tone cold. “Because at three this morning, he was all over another woman, so I’m pretty sure he’s not feeling whatever this was meant to be.”
Catherine opens her mouth to respond.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Ray’s voice cuts through the room.
I turn slowly.
He looks . . . put-together. Clean-shaven, freshly showered, dressed like nothing happened. Like he didn’t rip me apart a few hours ago whilst stinking of whiskey.
“The police are on their way,” he continues, his gaze locked on mine as he rolls up his sleeves. “They want to speak to us about Anika.”
The words stop me in my tracks. “Why?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“They think her death is suspicious.”
Catherine straightens. “Suspicious? Why would they think that?”
Ray doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t look at anything except me. “Because I went through the CCTV from the last few weeks,” he says slowly. “And it seems Anika’s been having a visitor.”
My heart stutters, then starts racing. Luke. He knows about Luke. Fuck. The air feels too thin and too heavy all at once. I scratch at my collar, pulling it from my neck.
The buzzer sounds, breaking through the silence.
Ray doesn’t move his eyes from mine as he crosses the room and presses the button to let them in.
Before the elevator doors open, Ray closes the distance between us. His hand wraps around my arm, pulling me in so suddenly, my breath catches with surprise.
“Remember something,” he murmurs, his voice low, meant only for me. My heart hammers faster. “I don’t like lies, Wynter.” His fingers tighten slightly, just enough to make the warning sink in. “You’ve just broken my number one rule.”
A chill runs through me.
Then, just as quickly, he lets me go.
Catherine brings in coffee, her movements quieter than usual, like even she can feel the weight pressing down on the room.
We sit in the living room, but no one touches their drink.
“We carried out an urgent post-mortem on Anika,” one of the officers begins, his tone measured and professional. “And the pathologist doesn’t believe she died of natural causes.”
Silence drops heavily between us.
“She had a significant amount of morphine and tramadol in her system,” he continues. “Far more than what’s listed on her patient records.”
My brows pull together in confusion.
“They don’t match?” Catherine asks, her voice tight.
The officer shakes his head. “No. Which means we’re now treating this as suspicious.”
I glance at Ray. He’s showing no emotion, just staring at the officer with a cool, controlled look on his face.
“We’ll need statements from both of you,” the officer adds. “Just to establish a timeline—where you were, what time you returned, and how Anika seemed when you last saw her.”
“Of course,” Ray says smoothly. “Whatever you need.”
His tone is calm. “Should I have the agency carer contact you as well?” he adds.
The officers exchange a look. “We’ve already spoken to the agency you usually use,” one of them says. “They informed us the booking was cancelled.”
Ray’s expression darkens slightly. “Cancelled?”
“Yes. Did the carer give you her name?”
Ray shakes his head once, irritation creeping in. “Maybe. I wasn’t paying attention.”
He pauses, like he’s trying to recall the moment they met, then his jaw tightens. “Wait, I didn’t cancel anything,” he says slowly. The room seems to shrink. “So, who the fuck was the woman in my home, and why was she here if the booking was cancelled?”
The officer leans forward slightly, steadying the conversation. “We’re looking into that. It could be a clerical error, something simple. The agency is contacting all their carers to confirm if anyone attended that evening.”
That’s it. A clerical error. It has to be.
“If you remember anything about her,” the officer continues, “anything at all, it would help.”
Ray nods again, and I can see it now. The shift, from calm to pissed. There’s anger building beneath the surface.
“We’ll also need access to your CCTV,” the officer adds.
Ray’s gaze flicks to me for a second. “I checked the cameras at the casino entrance and the elevators, they were off from around four in the afternoon.” The police officer raises a suspicious eyebrow.
“I know how that looks,” he snaps. “I’m trying to get it recovered.
I’ve got experts looking at it as we speak. Did you talk to Luke Malone?”
The officer nods. “He has an alibi.”
“Of course he does. Screwing his wife, no doubt.”
“We’ll be in touch once the full postmortem is completed. If you could come down to the station this week and give your statements, it would be helpful.”
RAY
The silence stretches long after the police leave. It’s heavy and unforgiving.
Catherine gathers the mugs, muttering something about washing up before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving us alone in the wreckage.
“I didn’t know Luke was a danger to her,” Wynter says quietly.