Page 10 of Little Hidden Fears

“It doesn’t sound strange to me. You’re quite the charmer when you want to be.”

“I say it’s strange because she’s half my age. When our conversation ended, she told me she hoped we could talk again, and then she placed a hand on my arm, looked me in the eye, and declared she was single.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Everyone was accounted for when the lights came back on. Zoey told me the remaining guests were all standing around in the living room ... well, except for Lucas, who was outside smoking a cigarette.”

“Front yard or back yard?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. Are there multiple ways to get into the house?”

“Front door, back door, and then a sliding glass door off the master bedroom balcony, which wasn’t locked when we got there.”

“If the killer didn’t use the stairs, he had to have been upstairs hiding out somewhere,” I said.

“Waiting for an opportune moment to strike,” Whitlock said.

I stood a moment, trying to re-create the scene in my mind. “So the killer strangles Noelle, then makes his escape. The lights come back on, Dominic discovers his wife, and he screams.”

“Right,” Foley said.

But how did the killer escape from the second floor unseen?

“Tell me about the layout of Noelle’s bedroom,” I said.

“If you’re trying to figure out how the killer got away, there’s a balcony off the side of Noelle’s bedroom. Our best guess is he either went out that way or through a window. None of the windows in her room have screens, and they’re big enough for someone to get in and out. Bit of a leap to get to the ground, though. I wouldn’t risk it myself.”

If the killer knew it was his only option, I assumed he would.

“During the party, were any of the guests allowed upstairs?” I asked.

“When we spoke to Zoey, she said everyone was told at the start that the celebration was to be contained to the main level. They didn’t want anyone milling around when it was time for the child to go to bed.”

“If the killer turns out to be one of the guests, I’m guessing he crept upstairs during the party and hid out. It’s possible the other guests assumed that person had left when they hadn’t.”

“I thought the same thing, except Zoey said she walked each guest to the door when they left to thank them for being there on her special night.”

“Every time I think I’m onto something, it gets all kinds of holes poked into it.”

“Tell me about it,” Foley said. “That’s how we feel.”

“If guests were not allowed upstairs, it would have made the second floor a lot easier for Silas to dust for prints.”

“It was, and we were hopeful about it, at first.”

“And then?”

“Upstairs, there were prints belonging to Noelle, her husband, her daughter, Zoey, and Lucas. No one else.”

“And since Silas found fingerprint marks on Noelle’s neck, I’m assuming the killer wasn’t wearing gloves—not when he killed her, anyway.”

I crossed my arms, tapping a foot to the ground, thinking.

“I know that look,” Foley said. “What’s swirling around in that head of yours?”

“This murder seems so personal in nature—not only personal but premeditated.”

“Sounds logical.”

“Who else have you spoken to, aside from the guests who attended the party?”

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