I swallow. “Could I offer you a cookie, Detective?”
“No, thanks, Mrs. Masterson.” He pats his gut. “Watching the waistline, you know?”
“Right.” I force a smile. “Unfortunately, Elliot isn’t here at the moment. He went to work.”
“Well, that’s okay. Actually, you’re the one I wanted to speak to.”
I have to grab onto the banister to keep from collapsing. He wants to speak to me. That’s not good. “Sure. What about?”
“Well, here’s the thing…” I feel the detective’s pale blue eyes studying my face. “I spoke to the woman who had the book club last night, and she said you weren’t there. She said you came for a minute, but then you left.”
“Right.” There’s no point in denying it. There were too many witnesses. “I just came for a very short time.”
“Huh. Interesting. So tell me…” He cocks his head to the side. “Where were you last night when your husband thought you were at the book club?”
“I just…” I take a step back. “I went to get some dinner at Taco Bell. Then I pretty much came right back.”
“Okay, I see,” he says. “And how long did that take?”
“About half an hour. Then I came home.”
Half an hour couldn’t possibly be long enough to have killed Brianna and make it back home. Granted, the actual time was more like two hours. But Elliot will vouch for me. We can be each other’s alibis.
Unless they think we killed her together.
He nods at the front door. “Is that your SUV out front?”
“Yes…”
“It’s just interesting.” He shrugs. “We have a witness who noticed a white SUV driving around Brianna’s neighborhood late last night.”
I swallow. “Well, it’s a very common color. I mean, there are probably three or four white SUVs on this block alone. Even my next-door neighbor has one. We all have big cars because we’ve got kids, and SUVs are very safe. And white is the safest color, because you’re more visible.”
He smiles again but it doesn’t touch his eyes. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”
Well, I am right. White SUVs are very common. That’s not enough to lock me away for murder.
“Is that all?” I say, a touch coldly.
“I think so.” He starts to turn around just like last time, but once again he pauses. “Wait. One more question.”
God, no more of this. Please. “Sure.”
“What were you and Brianna fighting about yesterday morning in front of your house?”
A sick feeling comes over me. I should have known one of my nosy neighbors would have witnessed that fight. “Fighting?”
He smiles almost apologetically. “Your neighbor said she saw the two of you fighting. I was just wondering what it was about.”
My “neighbor.” I’m willing to bet any amount of money that this helpful neighbor was Maria Cooper.
“It wasn’t really a fight,” I say quickly. “It was more like… it was too early and… that’s all.”
Hanrahan blinks at me. “Was it because Brianna was pregnant?”
My legs wobble beneath me. If I weren’t gripping the banister, I might collapse. “What?”
“Sorry, let me say that more clearly. Were you fighting over Brianna being pregnant?”
I’m starting to dislike this detective. “I… I didn’t realize she was pregnant.”
“Oh.” He nods thoughtfully. “Interesting. Because I was just thinking if Brianna was pregnant and you thought the baby was your husband’s, that would be a pretty good reason for you to be fighting. Don’t you think so?”
I can’t even bring up the breath to answer his question. For a moment, we just stand there staring at each other. I’m still gripping the banister to keep my legs from giving out underneath me. He thinks I killed her. He thinks I killed Brianna, and he probably also thinks I killed Courtney.
I should tell him about the text messages. I can prove someone has been harassing me. But if I do that, he’ll see the photo of me being arrested for shoplifting. A photo of me kissing a man who isn’t my husband. Those text messages are a catalog of every bad thing I’ve ever done. I don’t think any of that will help my case.
“Well,” he finally says, “I guess that’s it for now. But I may come back later and talk to you and your husband together again. Maybe we’ll go down to the station and have a little chat over there.”
He wants me to go down to the station. That is not a good sign.
“Sure, I’ll help in any way I can,” I say. My voice sounds unnaturally high, and he has to notice it. He’s a detective, after all.
I’ve got to get that burner phone.
Chapter 36
I wait until the cop car is out of sight. But I don’t want to wait too long, because I don’t know how long Sean will be out of the house. And also, I’ve got to pick up Bobby from school in an hour and a half. I’ve never been late before, and today won’t be the first time.
I cut across Maria’s front lawn from my own, to reduce the chances anyone will see me. Of course, nobody will think anything of it if they do see me. What are they going to think—I’m breaking into my neighbors’ house? Unthinkable.
I keep my fingers crossed as I look under the potted plant by the front door. I know Sean gave Maria a hard time about keeping the spare key there, so it’s very likely it’s not there anymore. But to my relief, when I move the plant, the key is exactly where it was before. I pick it up and fit it into the lock.
Maria’s living room is just as it always is. Clean, but slightly cluttered with Owen’s toys. Photos all over the walls of the family. My eyes fall on one photo over the fireplace—a Christmas photo based on the sweaters they’re wearing. They look so happy. You would never guess Maria wasn’t Owen’s biological mother—they look so much alike.
That’s when it hits me. What has always bothered me about this living room. There are no photos of Owen’s mother.
Not that Maria is obligated to have a photograph of Sean’s first wife in her home. But you would think if the poor woman was the mother of her son and died tragically, they would want some memory of her to be in their home. Especially considering how many photos there are. Why isn’t there even one of Owen’s biological mother?
I wonder how Sean’s first wife died. People that age don’t just drop dead. Something terrible must have happened to her.
Well, I’m not going to let anything terrible happen to me.
I’ve got to find that burner phone. I’m convinced it’s the key to everything. She probably used the phone to communicate with Brianna. And now the detective is claiming people saw a white SUV in Brianna’s neighborhood. Except Maria’s car is almost identical to mine. Maybe that wasn’t unintentional. Maybe her plan all along was to set me up.
I noticed that when I cut across the lawn, I got mud all over my shoes. It won’t do to leave my muddy footprints all over their house. So I slip off my flats and walk across the living room in my bare feet. It will be quieter this way.