Her Sister’s Secret. E.V. Seymour
would be branded a murderer.
“Standard procedure in the circumstances,” Childe cut in. “Along with checking Scarlet’s phone records and call log.”
“Fuck’s sake.” A vein in Nate’s temple stood out proud.
“Is that a problem for you, Nate?” Childe’s tone was even, but his expression razor sharp.
Nate tilted his head, jutted out his chin. Guarded. I shot him a look. “Nope.”
“Good,” Childe said. “Is there somewhere close you can go for a few days?”
“He can stay with me.” This time Nate shot me a look.
From the expression on Childe’s face, he clearly favoured my suggestion. “We may need to ask further questions.”
My thoughts entirely and the only reason I was about to take Nate captive.
“What sort of questions?” Nate said.
Clues to whether Scarlet had a prior relationship with Richard Bowen, whether or not she had a motive to harm him, I thought. I bet her bracelet would fall under the forensic microscope too. Whatever I believed or wanted to believe; I couldn’t argue with the facts.
“Simply routine,” Childe said, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.
“Ridiculous.”
Forcing a breezy note into my voice and looking Childe directly in the eye, I said, “That’s settled then.” And before Nate could protest, I added. “I’ll give you my address and contact number.”
Begrudgingly, Nate got his shit together. His words, not mine, and we set off. As if to taunt us, signs that said ‘Think Bike’ appeared at regular intervals along the route.
“Those witnesses should have their eyesight tested,” he grumbled.
“Never mind them. I’m going to stop the car and you and me are going to have a chat.”
“Christ, do you have air conditioning in this thing?”
Dutifully, I rotated the control on the air con. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not. Pull over.”
“So that you can do a runner? No chance.”
“So we can talk.”
I cast around, thinking I’d need to choose exactly the right spot, somewhere Nate would feel comfortable, but also not the kind of place he could easily make a break for it. Turning off the main road, I found a place a few miles on. Random. Surrounded by fields. Nearest house half a mile away. I pulled up next to a tree stump that resembled an animal carcass. Blinking away unwanted memories, I killed the engine. Turning around to face my brother-in-law, I thought he resembled a man about to chuck himself off a multi-storey. His skin was pearly white, almost translucent. All I saw were his eyes, which were deep dark squirming pools.
“Did you know that Scarlet asked Fliss for a loan?”
Nate half-smiled, disbelieving. “That’s rubbish. Fliss must be mistaken or she misunderstood.”
I repeated what Fliss had said. Nate’s body seemed to fold in on itself. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe she wanted to start a new life.”
“And leave me? Never. Not her style.”
I was no longer sure what my sister’s style was. Why else would Scarlet need £25k? If she’d changed her mind about taking a loan from Fliss because she’d found another source, it would show in her bank statements to which the police had access. She’d hardly be in receipt of £25k in used tenners. If anything of a financial nature was uncovered, the police were bound to follow the money trail. They always did. “Maybe she planned to take off with Bowen and got cold feet.”
“You’re suggesting that the accident was the result of a lover’s tiff?” Nate scoffed. “A crime of passion?” Chill seized hold of my vertebrae. The scenario was believable, but would confirm my sister as a murderer, something I found hard to comprehend. Nate crossed his arms. “I don’t believe it.”
“It would explain the content of the note.”
“What note?”
“Don’t you damn well dare,” I said, half-crazed with frustration. “The one you destroyed!”
Nate was becoming a specialist in moody looks, this one a variation on the resentful version he’d performed for Childe. “I should never have shown you.”
“Well, you did, and you haven’t answered my question.”
Shoulders bunched up around his ears, he turned away and stared out of the window.
“What else could Scarlet’s note mean?’
He turned back, flicked up the palms of his hands.
Getting somewhere. “You need to be as straightforward and honest with the police as possible.” I wasn’t thinking for Nate’s sake. I was thinking of my parents.
“No way.”
“If you say nothing and they discover she left a note, you’ll get into trouble for not coming clean.”
“But they aren’t going to find out, are they Molly?” What he meant was that the only way they would was if I told them.
My stupefied expression got a lot more stupid.
“Are you going to tell them about the money?” I didn’t like the challenge in his voice.
“Well, no, because —” I lost my train of thought. Money was my Achilles heel. Money was the spark that had lit the fuse for my fight with my sister.
I’d always had to struggle to be financially independent. Any money my parents gave me was always a loan. Whereas Scarlet only had to click her fingers and loot would be forthcoming, no strings, which was why it was so disturbing that she’d gone to Fliss for cash and not our parents. Unable to come clean and speak about my own resentments, I didn’t finish.
“If we breathe a word it will be like trashing her memory.” Nate’s tone was a lot more dialled down. He briefly touched my arm in what was meant as a shared moment of understanding and complicity.
Grubby little fingers closed around my throat and gave it a good squeeze. Silence lengthened in the car. Now came the hard part. “I promise to keep your affair, fling, whatever, safe on one condition.”
He looked incredulous and grateful.
“You’re a gutless bastard, Nate, and the only reason you’re making a big deal about Scarlet’s affair is because you can’t stand the heat and attention on your own.”
“That’s not —”
“Save it. I’m only doing this to protect Mum and Dad. If you have a shred of decency, as soon as the funeral is out of the way, you’ll break your business partnership with Dad and clear off out of our lives.”
Despite Nate’s protestation, I told Nate that he had a duty to drop in and see Mum and Dad before we went to mine. It’s what they’d expect, and it would be unkind not to. We didn’t speak for the rest of the journey. Noise from the car’s squeaky brakes, the result of an extended period of hot, dry weather, bored through the silence. Gave me time to turn things over in my head. Murder and money, those incestuously connected twins. How the shooting of a man fitted into things I’d no idea, but it slotted in somehow.
The