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CHAPTER8
* * *
Detective Sparks hit the ground running the next day. Throughout the night she’d had many thoughts running through her head, thoughts that had kept her awake long into the night; things she’d overlooked the day before.
Her first call as she was walking out the door was to Mr. Niall Davis.
“Good morning Mr. Davis, I know it’s a bit early but I have a question for you. You wouldn’t happen to know your wife’s passcode to her phone would you?”
“Of course, it’s zero six nineteen, we both used it; it was our anniversary, why?”
“We’re trying to establish her movements yesterday. Someone texted her before she left the house according to your nanny.”
“I can’t imagine who; Sonya didn’t know anyone except me, and the O’Rourkes.”
“Thank you sir. Will you be in your office later in case I have any more questions?”
“I’m not going in today, the children…I’ll be at home.” They hung up and she pocketed the phone as she climbed into the police issue car.
Her next stop was the art gallery where she sat outside waiting for Valerie O’Rourke. Officer Bailey was heading into the station to check up on the leads from the day before per their agreement the night before. She checked her watch for the third time hating the feeling that she was twiddling her thumbs, but it was still too early to call her guy in tech.
* * *
Valerie O’Rourke wokeup feeling sore in all the right places. She rolled over in bed her hand stretched out to the place where her husband was supposed to be and found it cool to the touch.
She frowned as she sat up, her eyes falling on the bedside clock. It was still early, too early even for him. With a foreman, an overseer and an abundance of farmhands on the job he has no need to be anywhere this early in the morning but he did like to keep his hand in.
She got up and headed for the shower to wash the stink of stale sex from her body. Last night was the first time in a long while that they’d gone at each other like that, and the pleasure she felt from the memory helped to keep her mind off of her friend’s death.
She was trying very hard not to think about it, about the way she’d died; how horrible if the rumors were true. She didn’t want to imagine the horror she must’ve felt. “Poor Sonya.” She decided as she turned the water off that she’d go into work later, she’d stop by the house and check in on Niall and the kids first. It’s what her friend would’ve wanted.
Because she kept shying away from thoughts of Sonya it was hard to think of what to do next. She knew Niall would be helpless in the face of this sudden tragedy and as their oldest and dearest friend she was perfectly willing to help pick up the slack.
She took her time drying her hair, her eyes following the marks her husband had left on her body the night before and she felt that sweet tingle between her thighs. Maybe they could have a repeat tonight, she thought as she perused her closet for something to wear.
Once dressed for the day she headed downstairs but there was no sign of Riley.
“Where’s my husband?” Eileen turned around from the stove at the sound of her mistress’ voice. “He left before I came over this morning. Might be something to do with the sick calf I suspect.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about that in light of what else has been going on.”
“Oh yes, you were so distraught when you came home yesterday I didn’t get the chance to tell you how sorry I am.”
“Yes, she was a dear friend.” Valerie’s voice tapered off in sorrow.
Eileen plated the egg white omelet she’d prepared with slices of grilled tomatoes on the side and placed it in front of Valerie before getting her a cup of coffee and some orange juice. “No grain toast this morning?”
“No, you know I only have it once a week.”
Valerie closed her eyes in bliss at her first taste of coffee. She caught the housekeeper staring at her when she opened them again and could well imagine what the other woman was thinking.
“I think I’ll go see Niall and the children this morning, make sure they’re okay.” Her face and voice was sullen as she cut into her eggs and she found that it wasn’t going to be that easy to put the whole ordeal out of her mind.
She didn’t mean to come across as cold and uncaring, but she’s never been able to deal with death. She’s one of those people who withdrew from such things as a way of protecting herself; a defense mechanism if you will.
She finished her meal for the first time in a long time, suddenly ravenous from the night before and got up to leave for the day. “We’ll have roast lamb for dinner Eileen, it’s Riley’s favorite. And maybe a fresh peach cobbler with some of that homemade ice cream you made and put in the freezer.”
She left after giving the woman her orders and hopped into her red convertible. As she pulled down the lane she saw her husband’s Rover coming back from the direction of the woods. She felt a slight pang in the pit of her stomach and rubbed it away.
