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He and Thurrock went out. Another click and she was trapped with her brother.
“I can’t believe this,” Lachlan said. “How long?”
“It started pretty much when we met,” she said. Honesty was the best course. “But we ended it. Remember you showed up at mine and asked who broke my heart? It was him. Well, it was mutual, I guess, but my heart was broken for him.”
“I can’t believe this,” he said again, running his fingers into his hair before leaping closer. “Do you know how dangerous this guy is?”
“I know how dangerous he is.”
“You could’ve been hurt! How can you say you know—”
“He’s not dangerous to me. He’d never hurt me.”
“Ire used you. Manipulated you. Shit, Sersh, I don’t know where to start. I thought you got it. Manzani was into you and you steered clear, you were so smart with him.”
“They’re not the same,” she said, tightening her hold on her purse, grasping the anchor in that turbulent moment. “I didn’t want to let you down.” A tear slipped from her eye. “I knew if you ever found out… It doesn’t make sense, I’m not sure I can make sense of it myself.”
Thurrock came back in. “We’ll take another swing,” he said, side nodding at Lachlan, who went toward him.
She followed, but both men stopped. Lachlan was the only one she saw.
“I have every right to know everything you do.”
Those were his words to her.
“I didn’t know this.”
“As soon as it was relevant you did,” she said. “Did I hesitate?”
His nostrils flared as he inhaled, but he relented. “Come on.”
Wanstead was in the hall outside a room. She and Lachlan passed to go to the next door. They went into a dark room filled with people. More people than needed to be there she’d bet. At least her father wasn’t there.
Light shone from the other side of the tinted window that took up a large portion of one wall. Beyond it, seated at a table, cuffs on his wrists, Connel sat unmoving. Even when Wanstead and Thurrock joined him, he didn’t flinch. His focus remained directly ahead.
“Remember anything else?” Wanstead asked. “Anything else you might want to share?”
Connel said nothing.
“Maybe he got his nights mixed up.”
“Or it’s amnesia.”
The cops could mock him as much as they liked, he wouldn’t react. Even if he was seething on the inside, he’d keep it there, hidden. It was about power. Pride. Stepping closer, her hand rose toward the glass, but she paused. She couldn’t reach him. Not from there.
“Maybe we should tell him who’s been helping us out.”
“Yeah,” Wanstead said. “Got some interesting insight from an unexpected source.”
“Unexpected but not unwelcome.”
“Hell, no, definitely not unwelcome.”
“Know who we’re talking about?” Thurrock asked.
Still nothing from Connel.
“You know McLeod’s kid sister, right?” Wanstead got no response. “Followed you around for a while. Did the article on your friends the Manzanis.” They were no friends of his and he wouldn’t appreciate it being said, still, silence. “Seems to think she knows something about who’s responsible for this murder.”
