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10 Suspect in High Heels by Gemma Halliday

10 Suspect in High Heels by Gemma Halliday

Author:Gemma Halliday [Halliday, Gemma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Published: 2019-10-01T05:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The lone slice of pizza I'd had time to ingest sat in my stomach like a lead weight as Ramirez drove through the early evening traffic, and I felt a mix of guilt and confusion solidifying around it. Guilt that I'd known Allison was missing earlier that day and not thought to report it to anyone. Confusion because the reason I hadn't reported it is I'd thought she'd done a runner…not been killed.

If Allison was a victim, that clearly meant someone else had been doing the killing. Had the same person killed Carrington? It would seem like a heck of coincidence if not. Which meant, whatever the motive for Carrington's death, it hadn't been a rift between partners like I'd originally thought. Had the two been up to something together…and a third party found out? I thought of Van Steinberg. If Carrington and Cash had been selling fakes together through his auctions, he had a good reason to want them both out of the picture. If there had been fakes. And if they'd sold anything. And if Van Steinberg had found out.

I glanced over at Ramirez, hesitating to voice any of my theories. I was pretty sure he'd been two seconds away from taking off without me, but I'd been just a beat quicker, simultaneously calling the teenager next door to come watch the twins as I'd slid into the passenger seat of Ramirez's SUV, promising to be a silent observer. He'd paused—both of us knowing full well that was probably not going to happen. But in the end, he'd agreed. Probably because he wasn't fond of sleeping on the couch. Smart man.

The windshield illuminated with red and blue flashing lights as we pulled onto Allison Cash's block. Though, the commotion was not centered around her house but farther down the street, at the entrance to a small neighborhood park. Ramirez pulled up behind a squad car—one of at least a dozen I saw parked up and down the street, mixed in with other official looking vehicles and a news van from channel six.

"Great," Ramirez mumbled under his breath when he saw the van. Then he turned to me. "You're staying here, right?"

"Sure," I responded.

Only as he stepped from the car, so did I.

He shot me a look and sighed. "You're not staying here, are you?"

I shrugged in apology. "If the tables were turned, would you sit in the car with your mom's life on the line?"

It was a bit of a low blow, as I knew Ramirez's biggest soft spot was the seventy-five-year-old white-haired woman living in Hacienda Heights. But it had the desired effect.

Ramirez did another sigh and shook his head. "Fine. But hang back and don't say anything, okay?"

I gave a vigorous nod of consent and a zipping the mouth closed and throwing away the key thing, then followed a step behind him as he approached a group of uniformed officers standing sentry at the entrance to the park.

I listened silently as he identified himself to the small group and asked for a brief rundown of the scene.



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