Seeing Rich here, in my office, had made my heart start thumping all over the place. He certainly wasn’t acting like he had put the license-plate, Chloe-working-here, murder thing together. That was good. It was just a big coincidence anyway. Rich’s manner did seem subdued, however, and that was saying a lot, because he was pretty low-key to begin with. My mind raced forward to play the scene that was about to unfold.

RICH

I think you know why I’m here.

ME

(Shaking my head and gesturing helplessly)

I have no idea.

RICH

They’ve got your DNA, Dani. You left some of your hair on the floor when you and Chloe fought. She pulled some of your hair out during the struggle.You didn’t think of everything when you were covering your trail.

ME

I didn’t do anything, I swear. I went home on Friday night. I left the lot and went straight home.

RICH

How did you know her murder was Friday night? Her body was found Sunday. We’ve only just ascertained that she died late on Friday.

I’d hanged myself. I’d made one of the biggest mistakes a suspect can make during interrogation. I’d run off at the mouth and my words had convicted me. Already I was calculating my options. Should I make a run for it, through the door? Or bust through the window behind my desk? My eyes traveled back to Rich.

“Dani? Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about what happened to Chloe Johnson.”

So I was right. I did have that intuition thing. He was here to bust me.

“I just think you can never be too careful these days. I know you live up in the hills, just a canyon over from Chloe’s house. Something like this could have happened to you.”

I had no idea where he was going with this. I reminded myself that he had a gun on his person.

“I need to ask you a personal question.” He looked dead serious.

I waited, nervous.

“Do you own a handgun or any kind of firearm?”

“Are you kidding? No way!”

“Well then, I think you should give it some serious thought. A woman who lives alone can never be too careful.”

I exhaled. “Just so I’m being totally up front, I can’t stand guns. I give money to Stop the NRA. Look at me . . .” I pointed to my pink Louboutins. “Would someone who wears these hot shoes own a gun?”

Rich took a quick but thorough look at my new heels. “Look, I’m serious. Just think how that could have been you. Some creepy guy could have followed you home from the lot that night, instead of Chloe.”

“She was followed home from the lot?” I sounded strained.