why didn’t this scene make any sense? A robbery? A random act? A revenge killing? What? And what was the victim trying to tell him? He had pictures of the whole scene and he’d study them later. Especially that possible letter K written in blood.
He tried a new tactic. “You know, you and the deceased look a lot alike.”
She whirled at that, long ribbons of dark hair curling around her face and shoulders. “People told us that all through college. Said we looked like sisters. Tessa is...was...a year younger than me. I never imagined she wouldn’t make it past twenty-eight.”
So that made Rikki Allen twenty-nine, obviously.
Just a few years younger than him. Blain cleared his head and got back on track. “Look, I’m the only detective in town and since I was first on the scene, this is my case to solve. The more you tell me, the quicker I can make that happen. We need to find the person who did this.”
She grabbed at her hair and let it spill back around her face. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve been back in Millbrook a couple of days. Tessa drove down today to spend the weekend with me. I was out running errands and checking on some of the homes I’m scheduled to furnish. When I got home, I called out her name and that’s when...when he shot her and then he ran.”
“What kind of errands? What kind of work?”
She gave him a look that should have been intimidating. It only made Blain more aware of her, in too many ways he shouldn’t be aware. “I’m an interior designer. I work all over the Gulf Coast and all through Florida, decorating homes and condos, but lately in Tampa and down in Miami. I have a few clients up here, too.”
“So you were with one of those clients?”
“I can provide a play-by-play of my afternoon, if you need me to, yes.”
She was well-trained in deflecting questions, Blain decided. “And what about your sick mother?”
“I visited her before I went on my errands.”
He wondered about the sick mother part, but Blain would get to the bottom of things, sooner or later. “Okay. So, I’ve got the timeline pretty much figured out. I’ll have to wait to hear from the ME to find out the exact time of death. We’ve checked all of the upstairs rooms and according to my report, you told my officers that nothing important or valuable had been taken. But it looks like you might have surprised the intruder during a possible robbery.”
He read over his notes again.
“But it could be that you returned home before the intruder could take anything valuable, which means we’ll continue to comb the entire area around your home and see if we find any signs of someone getting away. We’re questioning the neighbors and alerting the media, too. If there’s a killer on the loose, everyone needs to be alert.”
“I don’t want the media hanging around,” she blurted. Then she cast her gaze back toward the patio. “I...I need to absorb what just happened. Tessa never hurt anyone, never had an enemy. Everyone loved her.” She whirled back to him. “I don’t want the media to harass her family and friends.”
Interesting. Or maybe she didn’t want the media delving into her personal life?
He stopped and tried again. “We’ve collected as much evidence as we can find for now so we’ll take this up again first thing tomorrow, but there’s still the matter of you finding another place to stay tonight.”
She glared at him, sniffed back tears she seemed to be trying hard to ignore. “I’ll go to a hotel.”
“Okay, then,” Blain said. “Get an overnight bag together and while you’re up there in your bedroom, make sure you double-check everything. Things such as valuable jewelry that might be missing or maybe some cash you left in a purse.”
She nodded. “Did you check the guest room? Tessa’s room?”
Blain could tell she was slipping fast. She was going to crash soon so he needed to get her out of here. “Yes. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just your friend’s purse with the contents dumped on the bed and some clothes scattered around. Everything still intact.”
“Tessa is neat,” she said, her gaze slamming into his. “She would have put her clothes away. She’d never leave her purse that way.”
“Okay.” He wrote that down.
“We were going out tonight,” she said on a soft whisper. “Just for fun.”
Blain remembered fun. “I’m sorry you have to go through this,” he said on a low note. “Do you want me to come upstairs with you?”
“No,” she said. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
He watched her up the stairs and then turned to take in the opulent design of the big town house. Did she decorate this one? Probably. A big pot with a healthy palm tree branching out around it sat by the ceiling-to-floor windows. A white leather couch and matching chair graced the spacious den. A modern-looking fireplace decorated in gold-and-white ornaments and shiny green foliage slashed across one wall and a bookshelf heavy with art and design books and a few novels filled the other wall. A vivid tropical-themed painting hung over the fireplace and a tall Christmas tree covered in silver-and-gold ornaments and ribbons stood in the corner by the fireplace.
So she’d been back in town long enough to get this place all gussied up for the holidays. Or maybe she’d hired someone to do it and they’d liked what they saw enough to try and rob the place. Maybe they’d sneaked inside the house, not knowing the other woman was here? Rikki had come home and surprised them? But why shoot the other woman?
Because she’d seen the intruder?
Now he had even more questions.
* * *
Rikki dreaded going into her bedroom. Knowing that a killer had gone through her house made her feel violated and ill at ease. She couldn’t even look at the guest room where Tessa’s things were scattered on the bed so she hurried up the hall to her room. She could see sparkling Christmas lights across the canal on another home’s upper balcony. The lights were pretty but a chill rushed across her shoulders, making Rikki shake.
Tessa. Dead.
What a nightmare? Had she been wrong to come back here? No, she had to see her mother before it was too late. Before she had even more regrets to add to the long list already in her head.
And yes, she’d needed some time away from Chad Presley. Because Chad could never replace the one man she’d loved and lost, and once he’d realized that, he’d turned nasty.
But she wouldn’t blame Chad. It wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t love him. Or that she’d never get over losing Drake.
Drake. Her sweet, young husband, Drake Allen.
We were so naive. So in love.
She missed him every day of her life but missing and wishing wouldn’t bring him back. Rikki went about grabbing clothes and gathering the essentials, her
