My breath was suddenly short, my pulse merciless. I could feel myself reddening all over, warmth and guilt coating every inch of skin as my thoughts spun: How? We’d been rushed, but careful. And why was Vera over there this morning? The plan had been to wait for John to contact us. What changed?

Another thought struck me, pushing all thoughts of Vera aside: Ellie.

What if she’d told Davis right away, called him as soon as she left the restaurant? What if Davis had been up here with her, and she’d lied about it? What if he’d found us, me and John together, the drapes left open for anyone to see? The door unlocked, just begging someone to sneak in? I thought Davis would find me, hurt me, but what if he’d found another way to punish me? What if this was it, the ultimate blow? Someone I cared about. The man I had cared about after him.

‘Explain what you saw,’ McKnight said.

I shook my head.

‘Miss King,’ he pressed.

‘I … I … It was raining.’

‘And?’

‘I guess I could have been mistaken.’

McKnight nodded, as if expecting this. ‘So did you hear Mr Nolan scream, then?’

It was a relief not to have to lie. ‘I did.’

‘But you didn’t see him?’

I shook my head. ‘I heard the scream and then saw his backpack and, I don’t know, I just assumed.’

Parker’s gaze narrowed, her good-cop mask temporarily gone. You lied to me. You lied straight to my face.

McKnight crossed his arms and relaxed into the sofa like he owned the place. ‘Glad we cleared that up. Now, this is important. Did Mr Nolan have any enemies?’

Enemies? Shit. What had Vera already told them? What if, when she’d found John’s body, she’d completely sold me out? No, it couldn’t be.

Only, if they were asking about enemies, that meant this was serious. This could be a murder investigation.

I pressed my hands to my knees. ‘There were supposedly rumors about John,’ I said. ‘I don’t know too much because I haven’t been living here that long, but yeah, there were people who didn’t like him.’

‘Anyone specific?’ McKnight asked.

Sam Alby flashed to mind, spilling wine all over Vera, threatening them with notes, dead animals, slashed tires. But if I told McKnight about him, would he put it together, deduce our plan? I couldn’t risk it, not until I talked to Vera, got our stories straight. ‘You’d have to ask Vera.’

McKnight stared at me a moment, then adjusted himself on the sofa, took one last sip of coffee. ‘That’s helpful,’ he said, though we both knew it wasn’t. ‘Thanks for your time, Miss King.’

Parker followed his lead, shifting forward, as if to get up.