Rosalee’s head tilted slightly to the side, and the detective assumed that meant yes.

“Everyone had a reason to be mad at someone at that party. The lights went out suspiciously and now I’m wondering… perhaps she wasn’t even the intended victim. Perhaps one of you was going after someone else and got her by mistake in the dark…”

Rosalee closed her eyes, lip trembling. It was the first real sign of emotion from her that the detective had seen.

The detective continued, hoping she could break her down enough to talk before the lawyer husband swooped in and closed the whole thing down.

“But you … you had a reason to hate them all. Didn’t you?”

Rosalee opened her eyes and creased her brows, apparently in confusion.

“Your mother-in-law was awful to you. She didn’t like you very much, did she? And your sister-in-law was much the same. They seem like two birds of a feather, as the saying goes…

“And don’t get me started on Georgia Britt. I’m not married myself, but I can only imagine how it feels to have your boyfriend hanging around with a girl who looks like Georgia all the time. Their whole friendship seems a little strange, right? And Tinsley. We have to talk about Tinsley, don’t we, Rosalee?”

Rosalee didn’t react as she stared down at her hands; palms pressed firmly on the table, fingers spread, skin turning white from the pressure. What is she hiding from me? the detective wondered. She fought the urge to reach out and shake the woman. Tell me what you know! She wanted to shout.

Detective Smalls was tired, running solely on caffeine and adrenaline. If her father were here, he would have had the sense to take a break or let one of the deputies step in and take over the interviews for a while.

But unlike her father, Detective Smalls had a compulsion—when she started working on a case, especially a homicide like this one, she couldn’t think about a single thing until it was solved. A blessing and a curse, when you work in a field that solves far fewer murders than they’d lead one to believe on TV crime dramas…

“Tinsley and you were very close. She said that you moved in with her after your parents’ accident. She described you as a sister. It’s funny how someone could say that, on the one hand, but on the other… she could write those terrible words.”

Rosalee’s eyes shifted from the table to the detective’s, curiosity getting the better of her.

“We found the anonymous well wishes your friends gave you. A couple of them weren’t very sweet, especially the one about knowing all your secrets and how your husband would soon know them too.”