Secret Admirer. Amanda Stevens
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Название: Secret Admirer
Автор: Amanda Stevens
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
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Startled, Eve hesitated, then sat down beside him. “Hey, you okay?”
He glanced up at her, his gaze dark and haunted, his expression almost tortured. Without thinking, Eve reached out and touched his arm. He jerked, as if burned, and for a moment she thought he meant to fling aside her hand. But instead he grabbed her fingers, clutching them as though they were his lifeline.
“Didn’t you see it?” His voice was like nothing she’d ever heard before.
Eve stared at him in shock. “See what?”
“I can’t believe I never noticed it before. I can’t believe I never saw it.”
An icy chill rolled through Eve. “See what?” she repeated.
Tony’s eyes closed briefly and he shuddered. “She looked enough like Ashley to be her sister.”
A LITTLE WHILE LATER they sat behind their desks, face-to-face, typing their reports into their computers. Tony glanced up at Eve, but she didn’t return his look. She’d been avoiding eye contact ever since they’d left the scene, and he couldn’t really blame her. He must have sounded pretty freaked back there. What the hell had possessed him to make such an asinine comment? Lucy Stringer looked nothing like Ashley. Nothing.
Oh, sure, they’d both been blondes, both tall and fair. Lucy had been a pretty girl, but nothing spectacular.
What, then, had made him think even for an instant that she looked like Ashley?
Because of the wounds.
The revelation hit him like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment the last meal he’d had—whenever that had been—bubbled up in his stomach, threatening.
He hit the save button and stood. “I’ll catch you later.”
Eve glanced up in alarm. “Where are you going? The lieutenant will want to see our reports.”
“I’ve got to check on something,” he muttered, then turned on his heel and exited the office.
In the men’s room, he ran cold water in the sink, scrubbing at his face almost brutally, as if he could somehow wash away the terrible premonition taking hold somewhere inside him.
Seven stab wounds. There had been seven vicious stab wounds on Lucy’s body.
Just like on Ashley’s.
THE REST OF THE DAY was devoted to searching Lucy Stringer’s apartment from top to bottom, canvassing her neighborhood, interviewing neighbors, friends, relatives, anyone who might give them a lead.
They split up after lunch, Tony going to the morgue to oversee the autopsy and Eve to talk to Mrs. Jarvis yet again. They were to meet back at the station by five o’clock for a briefing with Clare, which was to become their regular pattern over the next few days.
At the end of the second day, Clare drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk as Tony and Eve filled her in on the progress of the investigation.
“Look,” she said, when the two of them had finished. “It’s been thirty-six hours. I don’t want this to become a mystery.”
“We don’t want that, either,” Eve said, knowing that the lieutenant was referring to the status of a case once forty-eight hours had passed and it remained unsolved. “We’re doing everything we can.”
“I’m bringing Sutton and Wilson in on this. The two of you can brief them when we finish.”
Tony said nothing, but Eve could feel the tension emanating between him and Clare.
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