Page 35 of Sweet Like a Psycho (Secrets of Suburbi 2)

I took a slow, deep breath. This woman couldn’t be trusted. I shouldn’t listen to anything she said. But her words were jarring. “You have to wait to hear back from the county.” I placed my cup down on the table and stood up. I was done talking to this woman. I wasn’t going to listen to lies. I was going to get to the bottom of all of this and put everyone in their place. Violet deserved someone in her corner. “Which house did Violet grow up in?”

“Oh, I figured you knew. It was the house that blew up.”

I knew this was all related! I could feel my heart racing. I was so close to solving this thing.

Sally started laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m just kidding, Detective. You should have seen your face! We’re sharing ghost stories, and I thought it would be funny.”

Damn it. I tried to keep a straight face. Honestly, it was kind of funny. What were the odds of that happening? “Which house did Violet grow up in, Sally?”

“Right next door. Rosie’s house. I mentioned her earlier. She’s one of the women that Adeline was definitely not friends with.”

“Thanks for your help, Sally.”

“Any time. And Detective?”

I turned back toward her.

“Take these for the road.” She shoved the plate of cookies in my hand.

I had no idea when she had the chance to put plastic wrap on them. She was like a housewife ninja.

“And be careful out on the streets.”

Right. Because it’s a dangerous neighborhood. Only, it wasn’t. The only dangerous women here were the ones that spread gossip instead of trying to seek the truth. They were the ones hurting people, not the other way around.

***

I knocked on Rosie’s door and waited. And waited. She was probably at work, despite Sally insisting that she was home. It was mid-morning. Most people without my crazy schedule that could afford a house like this had a 9 to 5 day job. I glanced down at my watch and then knocked again.

Finally a woman with curly blonde hair and glasses opened the door. Her cheeks immediately turned rosy. She was the epitome of her name. Her hair was in a messy bun and a pencil was sticking through it. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and an even baggier t-shirt.

“Hello?” She tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear.

“Hi, Rosie. I’m Detective Reed.” I stretched my hand out to her.

Now instead of flustered, she looked flat out concerned. “Detective?” She put her hand out after an awkward pause and shook mine. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

“Yes, I have a few questions for you. Could I come inside so we can talk?”

She pressed her lips together, probably going over all the TV shows that said not to let cops inside your house. Her fingers tightened ever so slightly on the doorknob. She was nervous. I was freaking her out. I needed to put her mind at ease.

“You’re not in any trouble at all. I promise. I have a few questions about your neighbor Adeline Bell. I was actually just discussing the same questions with Sally next door.”

“Oh. Okay. No problem at all. I’m happy to help in any way that I can.” She held the door open for me. “I’m sorry, I would have changed if I knew someone was coming over.” She adjusted her baggy shirt as if it helped her appearance at all.

“My apologies. I should have called ahead.” I stepped in before she had a chance to change her mind. “I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.” What I was saying was pleasant, but I wasn’t acting pleasant. I was staring everywhere but at her. Her house was a similar layout to Sally’s, but the floorplan seemed way more open. More modern. If the houses in this neighborhood were all the same age, Rosie had done some major renovations. She also had much better taste than Sally. There were no tchotchkes or wallpaper in sight.

“Not at all. I’m an author. I look like this because I’ve been stuck in a writing cave for the past month.”

That made me look back at her. “A cave?”

She laughed and tucked another loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Figuratively. I just mean that I’m on a roll. Too busy to shower.” She laughed. “Um…can I get you something? Or…” She seemed at a loss for words for someone whose job it was to write them.

“I’m good. Really, I just want to know if you were close to Adeline? I heard you were about the same age.”

“I don’t know if anyone was that close to her. She was a very private person.”

“Do you think she could have done that to her own house? Or do you think someone else did it?” I had given up on the possibility of Adeline being Violet. Even though there were no pictures of Adeline, Sally seemed positive they weren’t the same person. It was one of the only things I believed that came out of her mouth. Which meant I wasn’t really here about the case. I was here about Violet.

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