Page 87 of Five for Silver

“You drove down the road Harriet was walkingup, and you didn’t see her?”

Lucy averted her gaze. “Vincent must’vealready taken her by then. I didn’t see her. Do you really think Iwould’ve left her walking home in the dark if Ihadseenher?”

“You and Harriet weren’t getting along atthe time—”

“She was my sister! Why are you picking openold wounds?”

“Because I want to know the truth, and whatI’ve discovered is that you lied about your whereabouts the nightyour sister went missing.”

“So what? It doesn’t change anything.Vincent still took her. He still killed her. He admitted it.”

It was Chad’s turn to look away.

“Wait…” she whispered. “You can’t possiblythink…”

“What?”

“He confessed to it, Chad. Vincent Whitehallmurdered my sister.”

“I’m open to all lines of enquiry.”

“Why?”

“I’m a detective. It’s in my nature. It’s inmy blood.”

“This isn’t a homicide case,” Lucy took astep nearer. “This is a recovery.” Her breathing came in pants.“We’re after my sister’s remains, not her killer. We’ve already gother killer. He’s in Wiltknot, he’s been in Wiltknot for over thirtyyears, but you don’t think it was him, do you?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Do you seriously think I’m capable ofmurdering my own sister?”

“When pushed to it, anyone—”

“Anyone can be a serial killer,” Lucyinterrupted.

Chad shook his head. “That’s not what I wasgoing to say.”

“Vincent Whitehall famously said that,didn’t he? Anyone? You. Me. Tate—”

“Don’t bring up Tate.”

Lucy’s eyes dropped to slits. “Why? Have Itouched a nerve? This whole time I thought you were on my side,working to help find my sister, but you’ve been investigating me.You’ve found yourself a motive, even placed me at the scene of thecrime. You bastard.”

“I—”

Her hand shot up so fast Chad didn’t havetime to blink before it struck his cheek. He winced at the slap,tasting blood. His teeth cut into his flesh, and he grunted.

“You’re investigating me, and not the manthat last saw her? That had Harriet in his car? That was obsessedwith her, picking her up from school and showering her withexpensive gifts while his wife wept for their dead daughter alone.”She let go of a bitter laugh, wrapping her arms around herself. “Itdoesn’t surprise me. You’re all the same. The police look out fortheir own first. They protect them and turn a blind eye when itsuits them.”

“I’m not turning a blind eye to James. Hetold me about Harriet.”

Lucy snorted. “His version of it, notHarriet’s. You’ve got Harriet’s version on a statement, but stillyou discredit it because she was a seventeen-year-old girl andJames was a police officer going through a hard time who needed ashoulder to cry on. Poor him.”

“I needed his side of it.”

“Harriet’s wasn’t enough.”

“You keep saying gifts. What gifts did heget her?”

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