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She sank back against the doorframe and massaged the bridge of her nose. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but Iambummed. Without even a tiny shred of proof, my story has all the credibility of a Loch Ness monster sighting.”
At least she was under no delusions about the difficulty of establishing the legitimacy of her story. With no evidence to validate what she said had happened this morning, the scenario was a hard sell.
He tried to dredge up a modicum of hope, however flimsy,to lift her spirits. “It’s possible a piece of corroborating information will turn up.”
Her get-real look said she knew how improbable that was. “You never answered my earlier question about whether my name might have slipped out.”
So she wasn’t letting go of the theory that she’d been set up this morning at the lake.
“Unlikely from the PD. Our crew is tight-lipped. But you’ve told a number of people about your involvement, right?”
“Only friends and people I trust.”
“Who may have told other people. So it’s possible the killer knows your identity.”
“But you think that’s a long shot.”
“I try not to rule anything out during an investigation.”
“A diplomatic way to say I’m grasping at straws.” She eased back. “Are we finished?”
“I still have to take a formal statement.”
“I already told you the whole story.”
In other words, she’d rather not invite him in.
Too bad.
Disappointing his sisters with an impromptu menu was only justified if he got a few answers during this visit.
“Like I told you at the Robertson house, sometimes new information emerges in a retelling.”
She huffed. “I doubt that will happen—but come on in.” She pulled the door wide and motioned toward a living room that felt larger than it was, thanks to a vaulted ceiling and light, neutral décor accented with spots of vibrant color.
Nice.
The warm, inviting contemporary space was the kind of room that said welcome after a long day.
He walked over to an upholstered chair, waiting to take his seat until she dropped onto the couch across from him and tucked her stockinged feet under her.
“Before we get to the statement, I want you to know that the officers at the park stopped in all the parking lots around the lake and talked to everyone they saw on the perimeter. It wasn’t a token effort. We take all crimes-against-persons reports seriously.”
“Despite your doubts.”
He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t have any. The astute woman across from him would see right through that claim.
“A healthy dose of skepticism is valuable in my line of work.” He pulled out his notebook. “Why don’t you walk me through what happened again?”
She repeated the story she’d told him earlier, including her contention that someone had grabbed her ankle. But in the retelling, her tone was a bit less definitive.
Interesting.
“Are you thinking there may not have been another person involved after all?” He stopped writing to assess her.
“I was certain I felt fingers around my ankle.” She spoke slowly, forehead wrinkling. “But your comment on the phone about stress made me start to question my perceptions. I mean, I have to admit that the premise of a scuba diver lying in wait is bizarre. Plus, the past week or so has been more than unsettling. First a murder, then my car gets mysteriously moved. Add in South Carolina, and I—” She snapped her jaw shut, snatched up one of the throw pillows on the couch, and hugged it to her chest. “All I know is something strange happened at the lake, and I don’t have a logical explanation for it. That bothers me.”
“Understandable. No one likes unanswered questions.”
