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She went through video after video, one of Will kissing her passionately before he unlocked the door, making Laura and Henry laugh. Then they struck gold.
“Look!” Henry said. “Someone burying something under that insulation.”
“Jeez, wearing dark glasses and a black hoodie,” Laura said. “Just our luck. What’s your phone number? I’ll send this to you. I wonder why they chose our cottage to bury the gun. There are several houses on the beach that have front road access that were closer to the body. It feels intentional.”
“Hopefully, we’re going to find out,” Henry said. “I can’t wait to see what prints come off that gun.”
The crime scene investigators had packaged the gun and were in the process of sorting through the debris, just in case something else evidentiary had been left behind.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Laura asked.
“Sure,” Henry replied, shivering, his shoulders up around his ears. “How’s it possible that winter is almost here? I’m not up for it this year.”
“You’re the third person who’s said that to me today,” she said, leading the way back inside the cottage. “No one wants winter, yet here we all are.”
He stood by the living room window, looking at the beach. “What a view.”
“It’s something, isn’t it?” She handed him a mug of coffee. “Cream and sugar?”
“Sure,” he said, turning to the table to help himself. “Do you have any insight into Lily Porter’s death?”
“You’re asking me?”
“Why not? You aren’t bogged down in the politics of murder. We have to watch our every step. And you know Alan is more than happy to do so, but you didn’t hear it from me.”
“I don’t have to watch what I do legally, that’s true, but I don’t want to mess up your investigation.”
“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Laura. There’s nothing yet. Zero. No DNA profile, despite her body being riddled with DNA that wasn’t hers. We have the bullet, a nine-millimeter, and thanks to you, we now have a nine-millimeter weapon. That’s all we’ve got. Her computer is eerily lacking any personal communication. Hopefully her phone records will show something, if we ever get them.”
Laura thought of Lisa admitting to having a sexual affair with Lily. “Hopefully. Just an FYI, I’m going to see her parents today.”
“Don’t mention the gun, please. Just because it might not be related, and I don’t want to get their hopes up for nothing.”
“I won’t.”
They chatted about her PI cases, and soon it was time to get back to work.
“I’ll let you know about the gun,” he said.
“Thanks. I’ll let you know what I get from the parents.”
An hour later, she was at the modest, overheated Porter house. After subjecting herself to more coffee and a pastry, and spending over an hour looking at Lily Porter’s baby pictures, validating their loss by telling them she’d do whatever it took to catch their daughter’s murderer, Laura had gained their complete trust.
“The police don’t care. Alan Stone acts like he has something to hide,” Mr. Porter groused.
“You believe Alan Stone acts like he has something to hide?” Laura asked, using her therapeutic communication skills by repeating everything they said. So far, as annoying as she found it to be, they were taking the bait.
The parents exchanged glances.
“You know it!” Mrs. Porter said. “He’s the cop she approached about the incest going on in Babylon.”
For the first time, the relevance of that meeting struck Laura. Alan himself had told her that Lily approached him about Ryan and Lisa and Alison. But at the time, she’d only looked at it superficially.
“Where did they meet?” Laura asked.
“At the coffee shop, the first time or two,” Mrs. Porter answered. “They met more than once. She said they met by the picnic area over by the marina.”
“Okay, I know that spot. It’s right out in the open but secluded. Lots of trees. Did she tell you what the conversation was about?”
