Sweet Little Lies by Caz Frear

Author:Caz Frear
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2018-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

16

“Well, I’m glad I’ve got a double shot eggnog latte for this one.” Steele shakes her head, exasperated. “So let me get this right, his grand hypothesis is that supposed bunny-boiler Saskia French might have sent Alice Lapaine to his house to deliver a message because he’d stopped taking her calls and blocked her everywhere?”

“It’s a bit teenage,” I say. “She seemed perfectly capable of fighting her own battles to me.”

Christmas Eve. It’s not even seven a.m. and there’s already a few of us clamoring for space around Steele’s electric heater, thawing out our limbs while trying to get our heads around this mindfuck of a case.

“Oi, budge over.” Parnell nudges me with his hip. “You forget I’m older than you, Kinsella. An Arctic chill could finish me off.” I laugh. “It’s true, I saw a poster in the doctor’s.”

At least Parnell’s trying to be funny. Renée and Flowers clearly haven’t had their Weetabix yet if their moods are anything to go by.

“So what does this Saskia say about it?” grunts Flowers.

I wouldn’t know. Parnell insisted on dropping me home on the way back from the Hickses’ last night, which left him with the happy task of wrangling with Saskia again and me to a night of “normal stuff”—as coined by the woman herself.

Washing. Tidying. Microwaving. Dodging phone calls from my sister.

Starting to write out Christmas cards before deciding it’s nearly Christmas anyway and what’s the point.

With the exception of Parnell, of course. My work-dad gets a card depicting a glittery robin perched on an equally glittery branch. He’s already moaning that he’s covered in the bloody stuff.

“What did Saskia say?” repeats Parnell, blowing hot breath into his glittery hands. “Well, in between saying that Forensics were ‘taking fucking liberties’ and stressing about having to pack to go to her parents’ today, she confirmed, yes, they were having an affair but no, she didn’t send anyone to the house.”

“Alice could have gone to the Hickses’ under her own steam.” I suggest. “Maybe she found out about the affair with Saskia and decided to blackmail Nate Hicks. We know she needed money.”

“Which gives him motive to kill her,” says Flowers, stating the bleeding obvious.

Steele doesn’t look too excited. “Yeah, OK, maybe it does, but it’s just that—a maybe. We’ve got no proof whatsoever that Maryanne had any knowledge of Saskia and Nate’s affair. And also, why blackmail him? There can’t have been a shortage of married men frequenting that flat with guilty consciences and deep pockets. Why pick on the lover of your newfound flatmate? Doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe Saskia put her up to it and they were going to share the spoils?” I say.

“Another ‘maybe’ but that one sits a bit better.” Steele chews her lip, twists the holder on her coffee cup. “Devil’s advocate, but what do we think about Saskia French as a suspect? She didn’t report her missing, that’s dodgy, surely?”

Parnell’s open to it. “We said we couldn’t completely rule out a woman. And she’s statuesque enough.”

“Alibi?” croaks Renée.

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