Page 43 of One Last Secret

Someone broke Celeste. I will find whoever that was, and I will break them in return.

I only wish that I was confident in my ability to do that.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Detective Reyes finally arrives an hour later. I am still resting on the couch when she storms in. She sees me, and her brow furrows into a scowl. She jams a finger at me and says, “You. With me.”

“She can’t walk right now,” Evelyn says. “She’s injured.”

“She doesn’t look injured.”

“I’m fine,” I tell Evelyn.

I do wince a little as I get to my feet, but now I’m only sore. The spasms and cramps are gone. I follow Detective Reyes, giving Evelyn an encouraging smile as she leads me outside to the balcony.

“Close the door behind you.”

I comply, and she turns to me with her arms crossed. “It’s time for the truth, Mary.”

I wait for her to continue, and her scowl deepens. “Sometime today would be nice.”

I realize with some shock that she means formeto tellherthe truth. “I’ve been honest with you,” I tell her.

She sighs and rubs her temple. “Okay. We’ll chop this up into bite-size pieces. Question one. You should recognize it because it’s a familiar one. How do you know Lisa Reinhardt?”

I feel a touch of irritation. “I’ve already told you I met her over dinner.”

“How does your partner know Lisa Reinhardt?”

“My part… is this because we reported her kidnapped?”

“See, that’s really interesting. Because her apartment was trashed, and when we show up, the only person there is an Irish guy who says he’s your friend, and that you two showed up and discovered Lisa was kidnapped.”

“Is that not what I just said?”

"The kidnapped part is what interests me. How do you know she was kidnapped? Why not killed? Why not drive away? Or hey, maybe she had a mental breakdown and trashed her own place?"

“There was no blood at the apartment,” I reply. “So she wasn’t killed.”

“She wasn’t killedthere. Doesn’t mean she wasn’t killed elsewhere.”

I sigh. “All right. Well, I’m not a detective, but I guessed that she was kidnapped.”

“You’re not a detective, but you’re the first person on the scene when Lisa Reinhardt goes missing. So why were you there if not to detect something?”

I don’t like the way this conversation is going. “Are you insinuating that I am responsible for the crime?”

“Not yet,” she says, “but I’ll be honest even if you won’t. I’m coming damned close to insinuating it.”

My jaw tightens. “Shouldn’t your energies be more focused on finding Celeste Holloway?”

“That’s the real kicker. See, I have you arriving late at night, dropped off by your friend who is not a U.S. citizen and who tells me his work visa is ‘in process.’ The next night, I have Victor Holloway missing, and his studio trashed. Three days later, I have you and this same Irishman showing up at Lisa’s apartment, and wouldn’t you know it, the place is trashed, and Lisa Reinhardt is missing. Then,hestays there and calls me whileyoucome back here and less than an hour later, Celeste Holloway goes missing. So I’m getting the feeling that if I want to find Celeste Holloway, I have to become real good friends with Mary Wilcox and Sean O’Connell.”

“I couldn’t have been responsible for Victor or Celeste,” I remind her. “I was with Celeste when Victor was taken, and I was with the social worker when Celeste ran on her own.”

“So now weknowthat Victor was taken and Celeste ran off on her own. Weknowthat Lisa was kidnapped. We know an awful lot, don’t we?”

“You’re avoiding the point.”

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