Page 19 of Witness To Murder
If Isla were involved with Raymond, why on earth would she try to set Leah up with him? The idea was ridiculous.
Stop, just stop.Whatever had happened…it wasn’t good.
Had someone been held against their will and then died here? Or were the handcuffs part of a sex game? The blood might have been from a situation that got out of control… Was that why Isla was not returning calls? Was she in hiding? Injured?
Oh God.
Just calm down.
There was no body. There was only blood. This didn’t mean anyone was dead.
The sound of Owen’s voice snapped her out of the troubling thoughts. She heard him say the detective’s name. He was calling the police.
This was bad.
She steadied herself. Of course he was calling the police. Someone had been gravely injured in this house. Someone…not Isla.Please not Isla.
Even if it was an accident, something had happened here. The police had to be called.
When Owen finished his call, he came out into the hall. “Detective Lambert is sending a forensic team to investigate. We’re to wait outside until he arrives. If the team gets here first, they will come inside and start processing the scene.”
The scene.This was a crime scene.
Just like the restaurant had been a crime scene, only no one had believed her. Like her and Isla’s apartment. Dear God, what was happening?
She cleared her throat, braced herself for the answer to the question she was about to ask. “Is that enough blood to suggest whoever lost it died from his or her injury?”
“It’s a lot of blood, Leah.” He spoke softly, kindly, as if he knew the answer already and wanted to keep her calm. “Let’s just wait to see what the forensic team has to say before we jump to any conclusions.”
Her stomach lurched. “I need to…to go outside.”
She hurried through the house until she was out the back door. Her stomach churned with the need to evacuate its contents.Deep breath.Two, three more deep breaths later, and the nausea settled down.
For a while she paced. There were so many things she wanted to ask, but who would have the answers? Not her top-notch private investigator, not Isla’s mother and certainly not Detective Lambert. How could they? No one was here. NeitherIsla nor Raymond were at the places they lived or worked. Isla’s mother had not heard from her.
This was…unbelievable. Beyond bizarre.
Owen sat down on the bench that stood next to the back door. Above his head was a sign that saidWelcome.To what?Leah mused.Hell?She collapsed next to him.
“Isla would have called already if she was okay.” Her gaze collided with his. “She’s not, and I’m terrified that the blood in there confirms it.”
“I want you to think carefully, Leah,” Owen said with infinite calmness and a sense of reassurance she wanted desperately to latch on to. “When was the last time you were in contact with Isla?”
Leah closed her eyes and ordered her mind to stop twisting with scary thoughts. “We were both home most of the day Saturday. We were just relaxing and reading. Later that evening—about seven, I think—she left for work. I dressed for the date that will go down in infamy as the world’s absolute worst blind date.”
He smiled sadly. “You haven’t heard from her since around seven on Saturday evening.”
Leah nodded. Three days, basically. There was no denying it now. Even without the blood, Isla would never be out of contact for that length of time. Especially with her mother. Isla often said that she was all her mother had since her brother never seemed to have time for either of them.
She and Isla were both the single support systems for their mothers. Not that Isla’s mother wasn’t able to take care of herself like Leah’s mother, but when she needed something, Isla was her go-to person. Just as Leah had been for her mother since her father died.
That familiar old pain arced through her, amplified by the dread knotting in her gut. Who would want to hurt Isla?
Why? She was such a good person.
“When Detective Lambert arrives,” Owen said, interrupting her troubling thoughts, “he’ll have a lot of questions. I want you to take your time and think carefully before you answer. If during his questioning I interrupt whatever you’re about to say, stop immediately and say nothing more. All right?”
She nodded but didn’t really comprehend why it was necessary to be so careful. “I don’t understand. Is there some reason I should be worried about what he might think of what I say?”
