Dark Shadows (Gia Santella Crime Thrillers Book 11), Kristi Belcamino [ereader with dictionary .TXT] 📗

I said, using my full name for some reason. We shook hands and sat down. He settled into the massive, wheeled white leather office chair, and I sat in one of the orange leather chairs facing the desk.

“Where should we start?” he said.

I was taken aback but didn’t let it show.

“I came here to relax. A vacation of sorts. I met the kids at one of the clubs in town last night. Their reservations fell through. I felt bad and offered to let them stay here. This big villa was getting a little lonely anyway.”

“Kids? How old are you?”

“I guess I’m only a few years older than they are,” I said. “Maybe I just feel older.”

No maybe about it. I’d lived lifetimes compared to them. Then again, that applied to people older than me as well.

Then I told him how I’d spent the evening with them and then woke to the dead body. I also told him how I set the alarm every night before bed with my own special code.

“Did you see anything suspicious last night?”

“There was an interesting conversation between the victim and one of the young women.”

Boucher tilted his head and lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure it means anything. It was something about him having the balls to ‘do something or she’d do it herself.’ Or something.”

I knew I was leaving a lot out. Like the part where he said it would be a crime, and she’d go to jail. And how he’d said he wasn’t afraid of her.

I sighed heavily.

“There was something else,” I said. “She told him he didn’t know what she was capable of and his response was that he wasn’t afraid of her.”

Fuck. Was I throwing Amanda under the bus for something that could have nothing to do with the murder?

“Do you have any idea what they were talking about?”

“None whatsoever.” I stood. I was done. I’d done my fucking civil duty. I wasn’t sure why I felt so dirty about it. I felt played. I didn’t know why.

I had my hand on the doorknob.

“We’re almost done here,” he said. “If you don’t mind. A few more questions.”

I turned back toward him.

“You said you set the alarm before turning in to bed,” he said looking at his notes on the desk in front of him. “Is there any chance someone could have come into the house while you were sleeping?”

“I don’t think so. When I accidentally set it off the first day, you could probably hear it down at the harbor. It’s crazy obnoxious.”

“And nobody else has your code?”

“Not a soul.”

“My understanding from Ryder is that the alarm system doesn’t cover the back of the house.”

“That’s dumb,” I said.

He didn’t answer only continued to take notes. I waited until he looked up at me again before I spoke.

“You seem to already be treating this as an investigation.”

“It is,” he said, a small smile on his face. “It’s a death investigation.”

He was avoiding what I was getting at.

“Have you determined the cause of death yet?”

“The coroner is working on it as we speak.”

“Do you think he was murdered?” I finally said, putting it out there.

The detective met my eyes. “Do you?”

I waited a few seconds without looking away and shook my head.

“Why?” he asked.

“I know killers,” I said meeting his eyes. “I just can’t see any of them as murderers. Maybe I’m naïve…” I trailed off and shrugged.

His gaze was piercing. I made sure I wasn’t the first one to look away.

“We haven’t ruled out that it was someone who came into the house. They might have come up from the canyon into the backyard.”

I paused. He was obviously familiar with Ryder and had talked to him before he arrived. That was unnerving. I realized I needed to tell him about my gun. I did so quickly.

“Was your door unlocked when you weren’t in there?”

I nodded. “It only locks from the inside.”

“Aha,” he said and scribbled more notes. Then he looked up.

“I think that is all for right now,” he said. “Thank you for your time. Please stay in town until we complete our investigation.”

“What?” I turned back around.

“It would be best if we could keep track of everyone for the next twenty-four hours at the very least. We can’t make you stay in Cannes, but I am asking you to do so. I’m going to ask the others to surrender their passports. You are an EU citizen, so I can only ask you to please stay until we know more. Can I count on your cooperation?”

“I’m going to have to get back to you on that.”

He frowned and I walked out before he could respond.

It was a long day. Hannah spent the day curled up in the fetal position on a small loveseat, her red eyes staring off into space. Amanda sat on the couch, breaking out into sobs every once in a while. Owen had his arm around her and his chin on top of her head. Sabine sat on the floor by the loveseat, occasionally reaching up to pat Hannah. Clint sat in a chair nearby on his phone.

One by one they were brought into the study.

Amanda was right. It had to be an accident. Lucas had to have had too much to drink, fallen and hit his head, and ended up in the pool. The way they cried and took care of each other, it seemed there was no way one of them could have done this. But who knew?

However, I did keep thinking about the conversation I’d overheard between Lucas and Amanda.

But seriously, she was a spoiled brat, but hardly a killer. Probably the worst she’d done was sleep with her best friend’s boyfriend, which was highly likely from everything I’d seen.

I paced most of the day feeling helpless.

Ryder stayed in the kitchen, busy on his phone or a laptop he’d set up at the bar counter. He made food for everyone—sandwiches and fruit that remained largely untouched—and kept handing out bottled water. Around two in the afternoon, he