Chapter 28
I wait patiently in the lobby as security buzzes Ryan Chatelain upstairs. I don’t care if this pisses off Garcia—Ryan was on my list of suspects.
Ten minutes later, Ryan steps out from the bank of elevators and waves at security that I’m fine. But before I can cross the imaginary threshold, the security woman hands me a visitor’s badge with instructions that I have to wear it at all times while in the building.
“She’ll be with me the entire time, Maggy,” Ryan says with a wink.
To my surprise, the hard-faced Maggy actually flushes and shoos him away. Seriously?
I glance up at Ryan as we wait by the elevators and try not to stare too hard as I inspect him.
Yeah, he’s good-looking, but I don’t see the appeal.
If I have a type—and I’m not saying I do—it’s more along the lines of a certain detective I’ve been trying not to think too hard about.
We may have the same goals, but I can’t imagine he agrees with all my methods.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Ryan’s tone is congenial as we step into the elevator. He uses a card to scan access to his floor—the same floor Cara’s office was on.
“I just wanted to talk to you away from the neighborhood. And I was hoping to see Cara’s office. I know it’s likely cleared out,” I add. “I’m just feeling… I just want to see something that was hers.”
“It’s actually not cleared out, and I’m sure it’ll be fine for you to see it,” he says quietly. “How are the girls doing? I know it’s a stupid question but…I’m worried about them.”
“About as well as can be expected,” I say as we step out onto their floor.
The actual testing facility for the self-driving air taxis won’t be here, I know that.
They have a nearby building with restricted access where all the testing takes place.
I doubt I’ll be able to get into it—what reason could I give?
“It’s hitting Fiona the hardest. Riley and Quinn…
I’m not saying they’ll be okay, but they’ll rebound faster.
Fiona’s going to live with it forever.” Just like I will.
His expression is grim as we approach an open door. He motions inside and I step into what was definitely Cara’s office. There are pictures of the girls on a shelf, some of their awards almost haphazardly tossed up. Pictures of her with me, then her and Ethan, and all of us.
Unexpected emotion clogs my throat as I realize she had pictures of me too, along with her family.
I mean, I know I’m her family too—or I was—and I’ve seen all the pictures at her house, which of course include me.
But she included me here too. And I don’t know why, but it’s too much.
I bat away the tears that prick my eyes and look at Ryan to find him watching me.
“Sorry,” I murmur.
“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re going to be grieving for a long time. Here, sit.” He motions to one of the chairs by her desk and takes the other. “We’ve got a great break room. Do you want any snacks?”
I shake my head, feeling a bit like a jerk at the questions I’m about to ask when he’s being so nice. But then I remind myself that he’s a liar. “No, but thank you. I appreciate it. Listen, I really wanted to talk to you about your alibi the day Cara was murdered.”
He freezes, blinks. Blinks again. “Uh, what?”
Clearly I’ve taken him off guard, which was the whole point.
“I know Milo Cole lied about his alibi. He was with his mistress or whatever you want to call her. And I know you’ve been cheating on Ava.
” That part is a lie. Or a guess, really.
“Milo told me that you two have been covering for each other for years.”
He looks away then, scrubs a hand over his face as he nods.
Then he turns back to me, his expression tormented.
“I know you’re friends with Ava and that I don’t deserve your discretion…
but yes, I did lie. I was with Hannah the morning…
” He trails off, looks away, his jaw tight as he shakes his head.
Then he looks back at me, his eyes pleading.
“Ava called me in a panic, said the police were at Cara’s place and I just…
I guess I panicked too. I automatically told her I was golfing. It was…habit.”
“And you told the cops the same?” I try to keep the judgment out of my voice. But it’s there all the same.
He swallows hard as he nods. “Yeah. I was worried that if I told the truth, they’d drag Hannah into it,” he whispers. “She asked one of the nannies she works with to cover for her.”
So at least three people who talked to the cops are full-fledged liars. Well, four if you include Hannah’s friend. I keep my expression as neutral as possible, but it’s hard. Because of this asshole and two others, I’m wasting my time following up because they lied over sex.
“How long have you been involved with her?” I ask quietly.
My question seems to throw him, but he answers. “Two months, on and off. And I don’t think I’d call it being involved, exactly.”
“Involved sounds better than fucking.”
He winces at my word choice, which feels ironic. He can’t stand the truth apparently. Maybe that’s unfair, but my sister is dead and his lies have done nothing but hinder this investigation. I’m not feeling much grace right now.
“We were just casual. I was dropping something off one day and…we started talking. I know how it looks, but she came on to me. Hard.”
Like I care. And like he couldn’t have said no. What a dick. “Where did you guys fuck?”
He stares at me in shock, but I just watch him closely. Then he looks away again. “My place. In the guest room,” he adds. “Not Ava’s and my bed.”
Because that makes it so much more acceptable. “Is that why she was talking to you at the memorial?” Because things looked intense between them.
He nods, looking even more miserable. “She was being awful, saying we should…have sex right upstairs with Ava in the house. At the memorial,” he adds, horror in his voice.
“I just… I didn’t sign up for any of that.
All that drama and messiness. Ava and I have been having problems, and Hannah was there, and she was easy. ”
It disgusts me that he’s trying to rationalize his cheating that way. But I nod. “The cops are going to talk to you.”
He shoves out a sigh. “Yeah, I figured, if you’re here. I really am sorry. It was weak and—”
“I don’t need your apologies.” I just needed the truth.
Grabbing my bag, I stand, but not before plucking a family picture off the shelf and tucking it into my bag.
He doesn’t say anything, which is smart, considering I’m tempted to bash the frame over his head.
That rage I’ve been keeping buried wants out.
My sister has been murdered and this asshole has wasted my time, the cops’ time, all to cover him cheating on his wife. And now I’ve got to follow up with Hannah.
I’m going to uncover her lies too.