Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
Reese
The paper suit they have given me to wear crinkles every time I move and I feel the urge to sit as still as possible.
They have allowed me to wash my hands but I keep rubbing them because they feel sticky as though they are still covered in Lawrence’s blood. I need to wash them again.
When the detective comes to speak to me, a large blond man who smiles and offers me a coffee, I make sure to tell the story that I know Victoria would want me to tell.
‘He pretended to be an old friend,’ I explain. ‘But when we got to the house she wasn’t there. And then he told us that she was dead.’
I don’t mention Sophie because I don’t think the police need to know everything. I don’t mention a lot of things.
I talk and talk as he listens and then he asks me the same questions over and over again.
Hours pass but finally it seems I have satisfied the blond detective.
‘You’ll need to come in again. We will need to go through the events again,’ he says as he stands.
‘But it was self-defence,’ I protest. ‘He lured us to that house. He was going to kill us.’
‘I understand.’ He nods. ‘But you will need to come in again once all the forensic evidence has been analysed.’
‘But I can go home now?’ I ask. ‘I have young children at home. I need to be with them.’
‘You can go home now,’ he says and he opens the door of the little room where I feel like I have been for days.
Outside, I take a deep breath of the cold air, letting it fill my lungs, even as I wrap my arms around myself because the paper suit is no defence against the cold.
‘Someone will give you both a lift to your car,’ says the detective and I turn to see Victoria.
‘Are you okay?’ she asks me. And I nod my head.
I’m not. But what’s one more lie?