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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.
In fact, none of them had.
The police interview had only been as successful as it was because it was, well. A police interview.
We couldn’t really bicker during that.
Not for a lack of trying on my part, though.
I took a deep breath and got out of the car, then walked down the little path to his front door and rapped my knuckles against it before I chickened out. Three barks sounded from inside, and as the door swung open, the first thing I was greeted with was a big, wet, black nose.
“You have a dog,” I said stupidly, staring at said dog.
Noah smirked. “He keeps my grandmother away.”
“Is he going to bite me?”
“Nah. Apollo isn’t as scary as he looks.”
The German Shepherd sat down and looked up at Noah, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, giving me a good view of his huge teeth.
For all I ribbed on Gwen about Tofu, The Walking Chicken Wing, I was marginally more cat person than dog person.
“I’ll take your word for it,” I said warily, finally dragging my attention away from the huge dog. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Now isn’t a good time.”
