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“Mark Adelman?” she demanded.
His dark features flickered, and his scowl deepened. “Don’t move,” she cautioned.
He didn’t, still glaring at them. He still hadn’t said a word.
“Rachel, look at this,” Ethan called out, holding up a crumpled piece of paper he’d snatched from the end table. “A receipt from the nursery—dated just days before the first killing.”
“Good find.” Her eyes never left Mark.
His stayed on her as well.
Finally, Mark spoke. “What’s this about?”
His was a high-pitched, nasally voice. It had an unctuous note in it, and he shifted foot to foot, watching them intently.
“You know,” Ethan said scornfully.
Mark looked at them, then flashed a nervous smile. “The murders?”
Ethan went still. Rachel stared.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mark nodded, his head bobbing up and down. “It is about those, isn’t it? The murders, I mean.”
“What do you know about the murders?” Rachel said cautiously. Normally, suspects didn’t just come out and admit their role in a crime.
But there was a first time for everything.
“Not—not much. Heard about ’em on the news.”
“Looks like you’re packing your bag,” Rachel said, nodding across the room. “You going somewhere?”
“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, attempting to flash a crooked smile. “Just taking a little trip, you know?”
Rachel ignored his attempt at small talk.
“You worked at a cactus nursery at one point, didn’t you? Know the place?”
She didn’t use the name, hoping to trap him into volunteering the information. So in any future debriefs he couldn’t deny knowledge of their lead.
But Adelman looked at them hesitantly, wrinkling his nose.
“Look, I don’t know anything about that,” he insisted, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “I was just minding my own business when—”
“Save it,” Ethan interrupted, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he took a step forward. “We know you’re involved. Just tell us what we need to know, and maybe we can help you.”
For a moment, the room was filled with tense silence.
Rachel eyed Mark warily as he attempted to regain his composure. He flashed her and Ethan a crooked smile, trying to exude an air of nonchalance that was at odds with the beads of sweat dotting his brow.
“Quite the heat wave we’re having, huh?” he said, attempting to divert the conversation toward small talk. “I heard it’s supposed to be a record-breaker.”
Rachel’s mouth tightened into a thin line, unimpressed. Those nervous ticks and forced smiles were as transparent as water.
Mark licked his lips nervously, his eyes darting between Rachel and Ethan as if searching for a way out. The anticipation in the room grew thicker, suffocating, like the humid air outside. But beneath Rachel’s calm exterior, her mind raced with possibilities.
He was acting guilty. But guilty of what?
