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“Wait,” she says, biting her bottom lip and looking up at me with those impossibly big but tearful eyes. “I should probably warn you…something happened.”
“Well yeah, there’s a dead guy in your tub.”
“Yeah, um, more than that.” She grimaces. “I screwed up.”
The vacuum.
My shoulders bunch. “Amelia…why were you using the vacuum in the bathroom?”
I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the answer I’m afraid to hear.
She might have killed him.
She plays with her fingers, pinching and squeezing each one. “You know that episode of Psych when Gus finds his boss dead in the office?”
I think for a moment. “No.”
“Well Gus finds his boss dead—”
“Now’s not the time for a Psych recap,” I growl.
“—and he accidentally upends the crime scene,” she finishes.
Then it hits me. I remember that episode. My mom laughed the whole time and I was shaking my head, annoyed by their stupidity. That had been after her first round of chemo when I was convinced she’d make it through—
Oh no.
Amelia must see my eyes widen in fear because she throws her hands up. “It wasn’t that bad.”
That’s not as comforting as she thinks it is. “That’s a mighty low bar.” I groan and slide around her, preparing myself for what I’ll walk into.
“What th— Amelia Quinn! What did you do?”
She’s going to jail.
Amelia rushes in behind me, her eyes halfway hidden behind her hand like she’s afraid something more happened while she was gone and she doesn’t want to find out. “It wasn’t me! Okay, the puke was me. So was the water. But it was a mistake I swear. And then I answered the door and forgot it was on and when I came back his foot was kind of floating out of the tub and then the dogs jumped in and wanted to play with him. It all just sort of happened.”
This is so bad. When she video-called me I could make out the blood on his shirt but that’s all been washed clean. And the white flecks stuck to him make it look like he died in the middle of a hailstorm. The only evidence that remains is the knitting needle. Though any fingerprints are long gone thanks to the postmortem bath he received.
“I need to check the house,” I say, grabbing her hand, and hauling her out of the bathroom with me. “And you need to stay right there where I can see you.”
“Why?” Her eyes widen. “Am I a suspect?”
She doesn’t give me time to answer. “Of course, I’m a suspect. He died in my house. And I tampered with the crime scene. I’m going to get arrested for this, huh?”
Would a guilty person say that? She may be hiding something, but she didn’t do this. I know that with every inch of my stupid gut.
“It’s not ideal,” I say, scanning the small apartment, taking in everything. But Amelia’s lack of cleanliness makes it impossible to determine if anything is out of the ordinary.
“Where’s your grandmother’s jewelry box?”
She looks at the small table. “I, uh, took it somewhere safe.”
To Liam? I press my lips together. I can question her more about it later when there isn’t a dead body in her tub. “Is anything missing?”
“I, uh, don’t think so.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Oh, maybe my laptop. I left it on the table.”
“Sure you didn’t misplace it?”
