Chapter 44
Damien
Past two in the morning, I finally got Roxanne calm enough to sleep. I left her in our bed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
Her cheeks drained of all color. Eyes glassy, staring at nothing on the floor. That image lit a fuse inside me, but I choked down the rage before it could take over.
I need a clear head right now.
"What the hell do we actually know about this case?" I ask Vasili, who's been firing questions at me all night.
He drops into the armchair with a heavy sigh.
"You know what the problem is? It’s been twenty years, Damien.
People can't remember what they had for lunch yesterday, and you expect them to recall something from two decades ago.
" He rubs his temples. "Even when they do remember, the stories don't line up.
Based on the statements we've gotten, you'd think half a dozen people were in that house. "
"Roxanne's always said she heard one voice," I say, my jaw tight.
"That's what doesn't add up. If she only heard one voice, why do the testimonies suggest multiple people were there?"
Good question. A dark possibility starts taking shape in my mind, one that would explain why nothing about this case makes sense.