I nod. I’m nodding like a toy dog in a car window because I can’t move any other part of my body. Detective Siobhan Lee notices my state and steps closer. Her voice is a lot softer than her expression when she speaks.

‘It’s nothing to worry about, Tara, just a few questions. You’re not in any trouble.’

I’m not convinced. I know they say that to everyone before locking the cell door. But I have no choice here. I can’t have them questioning me in front of everyone on their way out to work. I’ll have to bring them up to the apartment.

‘Can you give me a minute?’ I say. ‘My fiancé is still asleep.’

‘Sure, go on ahead, we’ll follow up in five minutes.’

Slowly, I move towards the stairs and when I know they can’t see me anymore I take the steps three at a time. I run to the apartment door and bang on it, shouting, ‘Lucas, Lucas!’

Lucas opens the door and I push past him, gasping for air.

‘They’re here; the cops are here.’

‘The cops… where?’ he says, sticking his head out the door.

‘They’re downstairs, they’ll be here in a minute. Get dressed.’

‘What are the cops doing here, Tara?’ Lucas looks a bit confused, probably wondering what the hell he is getting into, marrying me.

‘They didn’t say yet but I bet it’s about Huntley Lodge.’

‘Huntley Lodge?’ He’s standing still, staring at me.

‘The house that was on the news, the one where the body was found… can you get dressed, Lucas? They’ll be here in—’

‘Tara,’ Lucas says. ‘Tara,’ he says again. This time I look up. The two detectives are standing beside him.

‘Thank you,’ the woman says and moves into the room. The man follows. Detective Lee puts her hand on my shoulder.

‘Are you okay, Tara? You seem very nervous.’

I can barely breathe. There are two cops standing in my apartment waiting to ask me questions. Clenching my trembling hands, I turn away from their stare and take a deep breath to calm myself down. I have to act cool. They cannot see how scared I am.

Chapter Eleven

Faye

I’m lying in my bed with the phone in my hand waiting for Tara Moore to ring me back. I left a message earlier when the bitch didn’t answer. How busy can she be? It’s not like making a cup of coffee takes that much concentration.