Page 5 of Sweet Like a Psycho (Secrets of Suburbi 2)

Of course. The arsonist wasn't just going to invite me into her lair. I lowered my gun and was about to kick down the door when it squeaked open.

A woman stood there with her gaze trained on the ground as she pulled the silk sash closed around her robe.

“I’m Detective Reed,” I said, keeping both hands on my gun instead of offering a handshake.

She didn’t respond. Instead, the silence stretched between us as she tied the sash three times. Not that the sash being tight hid a damn thing. Her thin, silk robe didn’t leave much to the imagination. My eyes snapped back up to her face.

She was staring at me staring at her. And even though the accusing expression on her face should have made me look away, I just couldn’t. She was indeed beautiful. High cheekbones, full kissable lips, a perfect pale complexion with rosy cheeks. But her hair was brown, not blonde. And I felt myself breathe a sigh of relief.

“Can I help you?” she asked. I thought her voice would be filled with indignation based on how she was staring at me. But it wasn’t at all. She sounded timid. Scared.

I realized I was probably terrifying her. I slid my gun back in its holster. “What are you doing out here?” In the middle of the woods? In a robe?

“I live here.”

I wanted to laugh. But it didn’t look like she was joking. And she was…wet. Her damp hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun. And there were splotches on her robe like she had thrown it on instead of taking the time to dry off properly after a shower. A very recent shower. Here in this house. She really lived here? “You live out here in the middle of the woods?”

“In a house. Why is that so strange?” She stared at me.

“It’s literally falling apart.” I tapped one of the broken floorboards with my heel. “This must violate all sorts of codes.”

She stood up a little straighter. “I’ve been fixing it up. I’m not breaking any codes.” But she didn’t sound very sure of herself.

If this was fixed up I didn’t want to think about what it had looked like before she got her hands on it. Or maybe she was just the worst house flipper on the planet.

“Is there something I can help you with, Detective Reed?” She put her hand on the doorknob. “If you don’t mind, it’s getting rather late and I…”

It was pretty clear she was trying to get rid of me. “I have a few questions for you.”

“For me?” She didn’t look surprised. She looked like she was expecting it. Only a guilty person expected questioning.

I cleared my throat as I pulled the paper out of my pocket. “Do you know this man?” I unfolded it and held it up for her.

She leaned forward slightly to get a better look. “No, I’ve never seen him.”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t look back at the page. Instead, her gaze met mine.

“Positive. I’ve never seen him in my life.”

“Maybe you know him as Ben Jones?”

“I don’t know him at all.”

“What about the name Adeline Bell?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells.” She laughed awkwardly at her own joke for just a second and then pressed her lips back together. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

I folded the paper back up and slipped it into my pocket. Either she wasn’t sorry at all about his death or she really didn’t know him. But I couldn’t read her at all. And usually I could read strangers like the back of my hand. “Have you seen any suspicious activity outside tonight?”

“There was an explosion in the neighborhood down the hill. Windy Park. You should look into that instead of tramping around my property.”

“That is what I’m looking into.”

She stared at me. “And you’re here because…”

“A trail from the house on fire led me right to you.”

“Do you go following every path you see? There's a sidewalk out front of that house that blew up. Why not follow that around the neighborhood?”

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