Page 64 of D for Dead

Shawn Randall was no longer a suspect given his airtight alibi for the night of the second murder.

David Gavin was allegedly in town, but they had not yet been able to verify his whereabouts to confirm this. His break-up with Amy had been bitter, but was it enough to make him want to kill?

Nadine Williams and her boyfriend, Troy Cunningham, had provided each other with alibis for the murders and initially been crossed from the list. Following Nadine’s aggressive behaviour towards Amy at the beach house, Jake wanted them looked into further.

Then there were the fan letters. They hoped to have the lab results back in a couple of days. Had the killer written the letters? Had he been obsessed with Amy all this time and building up to the kills?

Popping the tab on a bottle of beer, Rebecca took a long cool sip, savouring the mouthful, and clicked the remote for the TV.

The doorbell rang and she glanced at her watch. The pizza delivery was early. Grabbing her purse, beer bottle still in the other hand, she went to the front door and threw it open, expecting to be hit with the waft of melted cheese and onions.

Instead, her jaw dropped.

‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!’

Joel Hickok grinned back at her.

‘You’ve got such a dirty mouth, Angell.’

He pushed his way past her into the house, quick to locate the kitchen.

Rebecca slammed the front door shut, followed behind him.

He already had the refrigerator door open.

‘What are you doing, Hickok?’

‘Getting a beer, what does it look like I’m doing?’

‘You know what I mean. Why are you here, in my house?’

He emerged with a bottle, spent a moment rummaging in her kitchen drawers looking for the opener. Finding it, he popped the tab, took a swig of beer and finally looked at her.

‘You’re not very hospitable, Angell. What’s wrong with an old friend dropping by?’

‘An old friend?’ Rebecca repeated, seething. Six weeks of sex, six years of nothing and that made them old friends? She didn’t think so.

Okay, so the sex had been good, really good, but that was irrelevant.

He grinned, walked over and clinked his bottle against hers. ‘Here’s to old friends.’

Then he was gone, off into the heart of the house, checking out the rest of her pad.

Rebecca followed him, flustered. If it was any other guy she would be in control, calling the shots. Why did Hickok always manage to get the upper hand?

‘Where the hell are you going?’ she demanded, as he made his way into the living room. She found him holding the photo frame that sat on the mantle, the picture of her parents on their ruby wedding anniversary.

‘How is your mom?’ he asked, conversationally.

Sarah Angell had initially been impressed by the young FBI agent who had stayed close to her daughter’s bedside while she recovered from a stab wound in hospital. She wanted Rebecca to meet a nice man, settle down, and he had good credentials.

Her opinion had changed a couple of weeks later when she’d unexpectedly visited Rebecca’s apartment, and walked in on the two of them naked on the couch.

Rebecca’s cheeks flamed even now as she recalled the incident.

She hadn’t been able to look her mom in the eye for months afterwards and Hickok had gone from being referred to as potential boyfriend material to ‘that FBI agent’.

‘She’s fine. I’m sure she would be thrilled to know you’re back in town.’