Page 42 of Dirty Looks

“No,” he said immediately. “The people around here are mostly older. They don’t have cars like that. Too new. Too nice.”

“What was the name of that bar you were at last night?” Jack asked.

“Rawley’s,” he said. “It’s off 295.”

“Thanks for your time,” Jack said. “Let us know if you remember anything else.”

The guy grunted and tossed his cigarette in a puddle before heading back inside.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“What do you think?”I asked Jack once we were back on the road.

“Might be something,” Jack said. “Or it might be nothing. But the timing falls in the window for when Evie Lidle was murdered. We can check out the guy’s alibi. See what time he left the bar.”

I texted Martinez and let him know we were headed to question Lizzie Ryan, and then I called Plank.

“You still at the house with the team?” I asked him once he picked up.

“We just cleared out,” Plank said. “Lieutenant Daniels combed this whole place. We pulled fingerprints in the staff passageway. They’re small, and Daniels said they match Evie Lidle’s, but she’ll confirm in the report once she gets them under the magnifier. The staff passageway led to different rooms—to a library on the second floor—and then the hallway split on the first floor and there was a secret entrance into the kitchen pantry and another that led to Robert Lidle’s study. The exterior door of his study was unlocked.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Any prints on the exterior door?”

“Evie Lidle’s,” Plank confirmed. “Robert Lidle and his family arrived back at the home. We let them know the upstairs bedroom is still cordoned off as well as Astrid Nielsen’s cottage. He wasn’t happy about it. Said he’d be calling the sheriff himself.”

“I look forward to the call,” Jack said.

We thanked Plank for the update and then disconnected. I checked my phone to see if Martinez had responded, but there was nothing from him yet.

“Interesting that Robert Lidle would go home instead of to the hospital to see his wife,” Jack said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Everyone we’ve talked to said they’re not really involved in each other’s lives. Sounds like it’s kind of always been that way. You have the address for Lizzie Ryan?”

“She lives in Newcastle,” Jack said.

“Alex told us he let her go home around ten this morning since she was up all night with the foalings. Maybe she didn’t go straight home? Maybe she and Alan Goble connected. He was supposed to be on duty this morning, but no one was at the front gate when we arrived.”

“We need to check the schedule of every guard who was supposed to be on duty yesterday and today,” he said. “Pull them all into questioning. There should be a log of anyone who came in or out, and if they weren’t at their post to see it I want to know why.”

Newcastle was a boutique town that prided itself on unique boutiques, original restaurants, and the arts. There were galleries and theaters downtown, and unlike Bloody Mary, there were a lot of places open after nine o’clock.

Lizzie Ryan lived in a cute little neighborhood with houses that looked like they’d been built in the forties, even though I knew they were only a few years old. She lived in a bluecraftsman on the corner, and Jack parked behind a white pickup truck.

“Think she’s home?” I asked.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Jack said. “But I’d say someone is. I just saw the curtains move in the front window.”

We made our way up the sidewalk and the three porch steps, and Jack rang the bell. It wasn’t long before the door was opened. I’d been expecting to see Lizzie Ryan, but instead a tall young woman with skin the color of dark coffee opened the door. She was one of the most breathtaking people I’d ever seen. Her eyes were black and her skin flawless, and her full lips spread into a smile showing stunningly white teeth.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“We’re looking for Lizzie Ryan,” Jack said, showing his badge.

Her smile dimmed some. “Oh, sure. Lizzie’s here. Come on in.”

“What’s your name?” Jack asked.

“Trinity,” she said. “Trinity Armstrong. I’m Lizzie’s roommate.”

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