Chapter 23
How are you doing?
I’ve not heard from you in ages.
Message from Grace to Rose
Grace
The smell of rain hung heavy in the air, though not a single drop had fallen yet.
Dark clouds had chased away the sun hours ago and were now gathering into a storm.
Nervous, I paced the pavement in front of the police station.
I wasn’t sure whether my unease had more to do with the upcoming meeting with Detective Carter or with the idea of seeing Ethan, who was due to appear any minute now.
I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head for days and kept thinking about the last time we’d been together.
About how right and natural it had felt to be with him.
Which was a problem, because that feeling of closeness could so easily turn something simple into something complicated.
And I really didn’t need any more complications in my life.
Still, I didn’t want to give up on Ethan quite yet, because no one else could quiet my thoughts the way he did.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus on what lay ahead.
Ethan had mentioned that in addition to the surveillance cameras outside the underground car park, there were a few installed inside as well.
His dad had apparently forgotten to delete this footage on them, and Hank had handed it over to the police.
Detective Carter had never mentioned the recordings to me or my parents, and though I doubted she would be willing to show them to us now, Ethan had insisted we at least try our luck.
Maybe one of our five suspects could be seen on the footage driving out of the car park around the time of the accident.
Which would solve the case faster than I’d ever have thought possible.
A police officer leaving the station gave me a sceptical look but didn’t stop. I pulled out my phone and checked the time. Ethan wasn’t late—I was simply early—but my nerves were frayed. If he didn’t show up soon, I might just go in without him . . .
I wouldn’t really, but the thought crossed my mind.
“Hey. Am I late? I got held up in a lecture,” came Ethan’s voice behind me.
I gave a sigh of relief as I turned to face him. Despite the gloomy weather, yesterday had been the official start of spring, and Ethan had apparently already stored his winter coat away. Today, he was wearing a dark-brown leather jacket. “No, I was just very early.”
“Good. I was worried for a moment,” he said with a smile that immediately sent my heart down reckless paths. “Shall we go in?”
I nodded.
Ethan went ahead and held the door open for me.
A wave of warm air hit me, along with that same indefinable smell I’d noticed the first time I’d come here with my parents right after Amy’s death.
It was a combination of cleaning products, metal, and something else—perhaps the stench of regret, fear, and bad decisions.
There was something about this place that instantly made you feel uneasy, even if you hadn’t done anything wrong.
Ethan didn’t seem in the least bit affected by the tension.
In that moment, I was infinitely grateful that he’d offered to come with me today.
With his shoulders squared as if the place belonged to him, he walked with me to the reception desk.
Behind it sat a man looking grim. He was staring at his computer screen and didn’t acknowledge us until Ethan cleared his throat.
“Yes?” the man asked curtly.
“Good afternoon. We’d like to talk to Detective Carter,” I said.
The man’s eyes flicked irritably between Ethan and me, as if his time were so precious that every second spent talking to us was a waste. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No,” I replied. I hadn’t even thought to make one. The last few times, I’d simply called to ask how the investigation was progressing, and Detective Carter had always made time to talk to me. “Is that a problem?”
“People usually make appointments in advance.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time, but I’m here now,” I said, stating the obvious.
“I don’t know if Detective Carter is available.”
“Then find out,” Ethan replied, matching the man’s condescending tone.
The man shot Ethan a dark look but reached for his phone without comment. He dialled a number, and it didn’t take long for someone to pick up. “Hey, Lisa. I have someone who wants to talk to you,” he said, then turned back to me. “Your name?”
“Grace Claymore.”
He repeated the name to Lisa, then asked, “Is this about your sister’s accident?”
Of course. What else would it be about? I nodded.
“Yes,” he said, and then paused to listen to Detective Carter’s response. “Mm-hm. Mm-hm. OK.” He looked up at me and, without lowering the phone from his ear, said, “There are no new developments in the case. I’m sorry.”
“I’d like to speak with Detective Carter anyway.”
“She wants to talk to you anyway,” he relayed into the phone.
I thought I heard an exasperated sigh through the receiver, though maybe I was just imagining it.
“Detective Carter will be right with you. You can take a seat in the meantime.” He gestured towards the uncomfortable-looking chairs by the entrance and immediately turned back to his screen, as if we’d vanished into thin air.
“So polite,” Ethan murmured as he sat down beside me.
The chairs were narrow and placed so close together that his thigh pressed against mine. Or maybe he was doing it deliberately to calm me down. I couldn’t say why exactly I was nervous, but I felt as though I might throw up at any moment.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I said, turning to Ethan.
“Of course. I didn’t have anything else to do.”
I snorted and turned away, shifting so our legs no longer touched. “How lucky for me that you could spare a little time for me in your packed schedule. I really appreciate it.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine,” I assured him. It wasn’t his fault that my treacherous heart overvalued his kindness.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Let me rephrase: I don’t have anything else to do because being here with you is, by far, the most important thing,” he said, his voice steady. His blue eyes shone crystal clear. “I’m just happy to help you.”
His words in combination with his intense look stirred a deep yearning in my chest—not a physical one, but emotional. It was a risky balancing act, considering Ethan was only supposed to distract me from my pain, not cause me more of it.
Luckily, I was spared from having to respond, because at that moment, the door beside the reception area swung open forcefully.
Detective Carter had arrived. She was a tall woman of around fifty, her brown hair pulled back into a tight plait.
Her makeup was subtle, and paired with the elegant trouser suit she wore, she could easily have fit in at an evening event at The Darlington.
The outfit looked very expensive, possibly even tailor-made.
“Miss Claymore. How nice to see you again,” Detective Carter said with a tight-lipped smile, extending her hand to me. I shook it. Then she turned to Ethan, who had also risen to his feet. A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “You’re Ethan Darlington.”
“My reputation seems to precede me.”
“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” Detective Carter shot back before turning her attention back to me.
“As Mr. Devlukia has already told you, there are no significant new developments in your sister’s case.
If there were, we would have contacted your parents by now.
” Her voice carried a hint of irritation, almost condescension, as if Amy’s death and my questions about the investigation were nothing but an unwelcome inconvenience to her.
“I know that. But why is there still no news?” I asked bluntly. “The accident happened three months ago. How can it be that in all this time, you still don’t have a lead or any evidence?”
“Because these things take time.”
“OK—but what exactly is taking time?” I pressed.
I was surprised by my tone. I’d come today only meaning to ask about the footage from the security cameras, but standing opposite Detective Carter and seeing her patronising expression, I felt a rush of frustration and despair.
“What are you currently doing to solve my sister’s case? Tell me. Step by step.”
Detective Carter’s smile became frosty. “Miss Claymore. I assure you we’re doing everything in our power.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.”
“I understand your disappointment.” She glanced at Ethan, as if warning him to keep me in check or risk getting in trouble. “But lashing out at me won’t help anyone.”
Ethan took a protective step forward. The corners of his mouth were upturned, but his smile looked forced.
He clearly didn’t buy Detective Carter’s we’re-doing-all-we-can act either.
“We’re here because we’d like to see the CCTV footage from the underground car park at The Darlington taken on the night of the accident. ”
“I’m afraid such footage doesn’t exist. As the Claymore family has already been informed, there was apparently a problem with the security system at your family’s hotel that evening,” Detective Claymore replied in a tone that somehow implied it was Ethan’s fault the recordings were missing, simply because his surname was Darlington.
Rage flared inside me. How dare she not only lie but also try to shift the blame onto someone else?
Ethan raised his eyebrows. “There are no recordings at all?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
I could see Ethan’s composed facade starting to crumble too, but unlike me, he didn’t let his anger get the better of him. “We know from a reliable source that there are recordings from the underground car park.”
“I’m sorry to break it to you, but this reliable source appears not to be as reliable as you think,” Detective Carter replied without batting an eyelid.
My patience snapped. “You’re lying!”
Her gaze cut into me like a blade, but I didn’t flinch. Nothing could hurt me anymore. I was untouchable. “You’d better watch what you say, Miss Claymore.”