Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92668 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
I had the email drafted, but I hadn’t been able to hit ‘send’ yet, mostly because my mind kept drifting back to the matter at hand.
The murder at hand, rather.
Like now.
“Ugh!” I closed my laptop down and dropped my head until my forehead rested on top of it.
Maybe I needed to actually do something instead, like go to the B&B and continue cleaning. Make some phone calls. Book some testing. Maybe a skip to get rid of all the crap instead.
I grabbed my stuff, slipped my feet into my favourite ballet flats, and left the house. I had no idea where my parents were—their social life here in Fox Point really was absolutely rocking, and good for them.
It was much easier to live with them if we rarely crossed paths.
Not that I didn’t love my parents. I did. I was very lucky I was able to move back in after university and that they weren’t trying to force me out of the door, even though that had coincided with Grandpa coming to live with us.
That didn’t mean it was easy to live with my parents at my age. That wasn’t even me being a whiny bitch. I knew they felt the same, because we’d had many conversations about how we were effectively going to make cohabitating as adults work. We’d just about managed it, and it was a shame that Grandpa’s death was the only thing that had really brought us close to me being able to move out.
I’d tried saving, but as my savings had gone up, so had house prices.
It didn’t take a genius to work out which one was going up faster.
All in all, I was extremely lucky that Grandpa had left me a whole house and business in one, even if it did need work to get it back to what it could be.
I’d rather have Grandpa, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.
All I could do was turn The Ivy back into something he’d be proud of.
I got into my car and pulled out of the driveway, turning to go into town. It was the middle of the day and not prime driving time, so it wasn’t the worst drive I’d ever had. It didn’t take me too long to get to the B&B, and I parked right outside the annexe before letting myself in.
I had no idea what I was doing here.
Did I want to clean? Did I want to do anything productive at all?
I didn’t know. All I could think about was Steph and how I was becoming surer by the minute that she was the one responsible for Declan’s death.
I just didn’t know what to do with that information.
It was rattling around my head, and I needed to get it out, but the only person I could imagine speaking to was Noah.
Weirdly. Especially given our last conversation.
Sure, Jamie would probably listen to me, but would he take it seriously? Of the two of them, Noah was the most likely, so I took out my phone and text Ash while sitting on the front steps.
ME: Is your brother working today?
Her response came a few minutes later.
ASH: No, it’s his day off. Why?
ME: I think Steph killed Declan.
ASH: That’s a jump from Alan.
ME: I spoke to her this morning. She got more than one house and was on a joint account, Ash, she has a huge motive. Do you think he knows all that?
ASH: No idea. He refused to tell me anything about it.
ME: Do you think he’d listen to me?
ASH: The worst he’s going to do is tell you no. Pretty sure he’s at home.
ME: Yeah, I don’t have his address.
ASH: Of course you don’t. 8 Magnolia Avenue. A couple roads over from your grandpa’s.
ME: Hey, those are nice houses.
ASH: If only he had interior decorating skills.
ASH: Let me know what he says.
ME: Will do. I guess I’ll go over there now.
I put my phone away and got back in my car without even going into the annexe. He really did only live a couple of streets over from Grandpa’s house, so I just went back the way I came and turned off in the direction of Magnolia Avenue instead of Sequoia Avenue.
Too many Avenues in this place.
Did anyone ever get their post or was it all mixed up? It was something to ponder.
Driving slowly down the road, I kept an eye out for the numbers. Once I’d located the evens side, it only took me a few seconds to locate number eight, Noah’s house, and I pulled up behind the Range Rover parked on the driveway outside.
My stomach churned as I killed the engine. What was I doing here? He was going to kill me for showing up on his doorstep. It wasn’t like our last conversation had ended well, either.