Page 161 of Things Left Unsaid

Parker: Missing me. He’s coming to Rachel’s tomorrow. Can’t wait to see him.

Zee: I’ll expect you to go quiet then. :P

Parker: Never let it be said that you’re not a wise woman.

Zee: Do me a favor? Text Tee and tell her I had sex with him.

Parker: Two mins

Zee: Lol. I have an incoming call. Speak later <3

Colton

THREE DAYS LATER

“Jim at Ravenly & Daughters said you brought in a truck bearing the description of the vehicle recently discovered on your property. You know, the one Lydia Armstrong was mowed down in?”

Though I admit I’ve been waiting for this second interview since I was released from custody, I’m calm as I answer Terry’s question. “I wasn’t behind the wheel.”

“See, it’s looking less like vehicular manslaughter and more like first-degree murder, Colton,” the sergeant muses, his gaze flickering between me and Marc Robard.

“I had no reason to kill her.”

“Those poison pen letters say otherwise. Plus, there were prints on the steering wheel?—”

I snort. “Where else would they be? But I can tell you who they don’t belong to—me. As the forensics proved or you’d have arrested me by now.”

His eyes narrow. “Know whatwasin there?” When I don’t answer, he drawls, “One of Lydia’s little love notes to y’all, and when I say y’all, I mean it. Juliette, this time?—”

“Make up your mind, Terry. Who’s behind this? Me or Juliette? Anyway, you can’t seriously think Juliette McAllister is a murderer. She hasn’t driven a truck in the last thirty-five years!”

“She was seen in town that same day.” Terry drums his fingers on the table. “As were the triplets, though their alibi is solid. You, of course, were with your wife. Weren’t you?”

There’s a flicker in his expression that tells me he doesn’t believe Zee and that, more than anything, riles up my temper.

I’m so goddamn sick of people not having faith in her word.

Sure, she lied this time, but hell, whenever she’s spoken the truth, the folks of Pigeon Creek never believed her anyway.

“Where are you taking this interview, sergeant?” Marc intones, seemingly bored by Terry’s weak interrogation skills. “My client is a busy man and you’ve brought him into the RCMP detachment forquestioning.

“No arrest has been made, ergo this is a waste of his time. As you said, his wife provided Mr. Korhonen with an alibi. He was not behind the wheel on the day of the road accident which the forensics attests to?—”

“Mr.Korhonen,” Terry bites back, “failed to disclose that he was aware the McAllister triplets owned the truck dumped onhisland. Did you take it to Ravenly & Daughters, Colton?”

“You do not have to answer that,” Marc slots in before I can answer.

Terry sneers as he slaps a sheet of paper on the table.

As Marc reads it, I murmur, “The truck was in need of repair. I didn’t know that it was ready to be driven. As far as I was aware, the serpentine belt was still screwed. One of the triplets used deodorant on it to stop it from squeaking.”

“Why hide that from us?”

“I wasn’t hiding anything.”

“If that’s all, sergeant, I don’t believe Mr. Korhonen can further your inquiries?—”

“I’ll be the one who decides that,” Terry snaps, glaring at him before it softens into a scowl. When he shuts off the recording, Marc makes to protest but I stall him. “If you have any information on which triplet did this, Colton, you should share it with me now.”

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