Page 12 of The Secrets of a Sin

Apparently, this guy had a smiling problem because every time I met his eyes, he grinned.

“I wasn’t coming at you.” I shake my head profusely dropping my eyes into my lap. “I just don’t know you or what your intentions are.”

His arms fell from behind his neck and were now planted over his knees as he leaned over a tad. His eyes softened a bit noticing I was uncomfortable and weary.

“My intentions are to find out what happened to Ms. Hale.” He spoke softly yet assertively. “And I need your help.”

My head elevated from his statement, and I slowly felt my body relax knowing he was on my side.

So Far.

“I already told that fat cop what I know.” I motion towards the hallway as he holds back laughter but coolly shakes it off. How in the hell was this guy a detective? He certainly wasn’t like the ones you see in movies.

Maybe he’s new?

“Were you close with her?” He asks changing his smile for a more professional straight face, void of emotions.

“No.” I shake my head, replaying yesterday where I found her sobbing in the hallway. “She was quiet. Kept to herself most of the time.”

Nodding, he remains focused on me, trying to read if I’m telling the truth or not.

“Do they think she was murdered?” I quickly ask the question that’s been burning a hole through me.

“We aren’t sure.” He answers truthfully. “It’s looking like suicide at the moment, but we still have testing to do.”

Jesus.

“What else can you tell me about Ms. Hale? Anything strange or out of the ordinary?”

There was a hesitant voice inside my head telling me not to spill the beans about mine and Phoebe’s interaction yesterday. Call it intuition, but the twisting in my gut told me to keep it hush hush. I couldn't explain the urge or why I decided to follow it, but I did.

“Not really. She was just your average damaged girl at St. Catherine’s.” I go on. “Strange and out of the ordinary is a regular here, Detective Pierce.”

With lowered brows, I realize he doesn’t know what kind of school this is.

“The women at St. Catherine’s are tainted. We’re the problems that no one wants to deal with, so I’m not really that shocked I came across a dead body.” He appears taken back by my statement. “It was a matter of time.”

Taking a deep breath, he shifts in his chair and sits a little taller.

“Tainted? How so?” His words come out forced like he didn’t want them to slip off his tongue, but he leaned in like he was interested to hear more.

“I don’t know Phoebe’s specific issue, but I know we aren’t the run-of-the mill girls you find in other schools.”

“And why are you here?”

My eyes widened, shocked he would ask when he clearly had no right.

“What does that have to do with anything? What I’m here for doesn’t concern you.” I all but spit out, feeling shame rise up inside me. His stare immediately dropped, and a silent curse flew out of his mouth.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He moves his head side to side. “I just… I was informed this was a Catholic School at the briefing. I didn’t realize it was...”

“Filled with crazy girls?” I raise a brow with a tight smile. “Well, let me formally welcome you to St. Catherine’s, Detective.”

Hoping to make him feel uncomfortable, he doesn't even flinch at my statement. His cool and collected composure surprised me-certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. Normally we get puckered faces and glares, but Detective Pierce isn’t fazed.

Not one bit.

“Call me Rolland.” He announces.

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