Page 42 of Little Buried Secrets

“The child would be around eighteen now,” I said. “I wonder if he has any involvement in her life.”

“Good question.”

“Do you have Jenny’s contact information?”

“Sure do. It’s on my desk. I’ll grab it.”

“I want you to give it to Simone and ask her to follow up with Jenny. But before you do, is there anything else I should know about Grant?”

“Other than an affinity for relationships with younger women, no. He’s super clean. Not even so much as a parking ticket.”

Hunter stood and walked to her desk, and my attention turned to the office door and two high-school-age girls who’d just come in. One was tall and slender with long, blond hair. The other was a foot shorter, with a dark, bob-style haircut and a muscular build. Both were dressed like they shopped at the same store in matching crop tops, tennis skirts, and tennis shoes, which seemed ridiculous given the frigid temperature outside.

The girls didn’t see me at first, and they made their way over to Hunter.

Blondie said, “We’re looking for the detective.”

“Which one?” Hunter asked. “There are three of us.”

“The one Margot’s mother hired.”

“When we take a case, we all work together,” Hunter said. “So again, which one?”

“The main one, the one who used to be a police detective,” Blondie said.

We were all former police detectives, but Hunter, who looked like she’d grown tired of the exchange, knew who they were after. She raised the pen in her hand and pointed me out.

“Take a seat, ladies,” I said.

They walked to the chairs across from me and sat down.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“I’m Skye Crawford,” Blondie said. “And this is Elle Mattox. We’re Margot’s friends. I mean, we were Margot’s friends. I mean, we still are her friends, but … well, you know what I mean.”

Skye leaned back, wiping a tear from her eye, and looked at Elle as if signaling for her to take over.

“We heard about what happened to Margot,” Elle said.

“What did you hear?” I asked.

“We know she’s dead, and we know she was murdered. She was found in a field outside Cambria, right?”

All information they should not have known yet.

As far as I knew, Foley’s press conference hadn’t happened yet, so I wasn’t keen on divulging more details.

“Where did you get your information?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Elle said. “Does it?”

“It might.”

“Just tell her,” Skye said. “Who cares?”

“Fine,” Elle said. “Bronte told her best friend, Kacie, who told Skye, who told me.”

So much for Bronte keeping quiet.

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