If the detective expected a reaction out of Rosalee when she said this, she didn’t get one. In fact, Rosalee was picking at her cuticles now, looking bored.

“Tinsley admitted that she wrote that one,” the detective said.

Rosalee lifted her eyes in what seemed to be genuine surprise.

“I also know who wrote the other one, about satisfying Asher so she no longer has to do it for you,” the detective said, boldly.

“Who?” Rosalee spoke for the first time, surprising the detective and herself.

The detective tried not to overreact to the sound of the woman’s voice, but she couldn’t hold back a small, triumphant smile. She lifted one finger. “We’ll get to that. But first, I want to finish talking about Tinsley. What secret did she know about you, Rosalee? What was she threatening to tell everyone?”

Rosalee shook her head back and forth. “Like I said earlier, I’m not talking until my fiancé gets here. He can answer your questions then.”

“Fair enough. But, if I’m being honest here, then I must admit that I already know the answer. Tinsley believes you killed your father. That’s the secret she’s been holding for you.”

Rosalee stared at her hands, but her shoulders lifted, tightening up around her ears.

“I pulled up everything I could find on your parents’ accident. It was an awful snowstorm, a total whiteout. No one was supposed to be on the road. But you and your parents were out that day for some reason. Your father was driving, and your mother was in the passenger’s seat. And you Rosalee… you were riding in the back, weren’t you?”

Silence.

“What happened was awful and I don’t want to make you relive that, I really don’t. I, too, lost a parent at an early age. Things like that… well, they fuck you up. I should know.”

Rosalee cleared her throat. “Sorry for your loss,” she said, croakily, but then said nothing more.

“Your mother died on impact according to the report. Your father wasn’t wearing a seatbelt when he hit that tree and he was flung through the windshield. He died not too long after, succumbing to blood loss and the harsh winter elements. And you… you were left there alone, for nearly a day and a half, before someone found you. I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been for you. How scary. I can’t imagine what something like that does to a person…”

“I can tell you what it doesn’t do. It doesn’t make them a murderer, if that’s what you’re implying,” Rosalee said, writhing in her seat.

I need to find a way to keep her talking, the detective thought, desperate for answers.