If so, she would be in serious trouble. Concealing evidence and deliberately tampering with a crime scene was a crime on its own. Even if she was, by some miracle, exonerated from the murder charges, these others would still apply and there was something in the lady detective’s quiet, steely manner that suggested to Cassie she would not back off if she suspected anything untoward had taken place.
The whole situation, right from the time she arrived, had been untoward. Cassie bitterly regretted not having been truthful upfront. What an insane decision it had been to try and hide the facts.
As she waited, she found herself playing and replaying the scene in her mind.
How could she have told the truth, when she was not even sure what it was?
The entire chain of events had played out in such panic. After the sustained fight, Cassie had been operating on a wave of adrenaline, buoyed by instinct. There had been no place for rational thought.
She thought again of Nina rushing forward, and suddenly this action seemed to be more significant.
Had the young girl pushed her mother down the stairs?
Or had it been Cassie herself, in the heat of the moment, realizing Ms. Rossi’s vulnerable position and shoving her instead of grabbing her?
She simply couldn’t remember. It was not even a blur; that moment had become a total blackout. She played it again and again in her mind, desperate for some clarity. She craved certainty either way, even if it was the answer she dreaded, and she ended up remembering that her outstretched fists had smashed into Ms. Rossi and sent her somersaulting backward.
Cassie breathed in deeply, feeling a wave of nausea at the thought.
Her broken heel might have caused her to fall. After all, indisputably, it had snapped. Cassie prayed it had been the heel. The heel absolved them all of blame. Anything else, and she knew that the crushing weight of guilt would never leave her.
She sat up as she heard the detective’s fast, light footsteps return, and stared apprehensively as the dark-haired woman entered the room. What had the children said?
The detective simply said, “Thank you for your time. I have checked with my team and everything is finished downstairs. The scene has been cleared, and everyone is ready to leave, so you may use the staircase as normal again.”
“All right,” Cassie said, feeling weak with relief that they were leaving, and not arresting her on the spot.
“We have contacted the girls’ father, but he is out of the country and will only be able to get here tomorrow evening. Are you willing to stay on for tonight and tomorrow, and do you feel capable of managing the grandmother and the children?” Detective Falcone asked.
Cassie nodded. “Yes, absolutely. No problem at all.”
“If you are in any doubt, I can ask a police officer to sleep here tonight to assist you.”
“I will be fine. Truly.”
Falcone nodded.
“Ms. Rossi senior was deeply asleep, so I did not disturb her. However this means she does not yet know about her daughter’s death. I will be back tomorrow morning, so it will be better to wait until then before we tell her. The girls’ father said he is organizing a home nurse to care for her until alternative arrangements can be made, so from tomorrow evening, someone will be available to assist her.”
“Thank you. I’ll wait for you to come back, then.”
“We will be in touch early tomorrow. I will leave now, if you would like to lock up and make everything secure.”
“Would you like to take the keys?” Cassie offered. “That way, you and your team can come and go as you need to. There’s a spare set in the kitchen if I have to go out, but the children will stay home from school tomorrow, I should think.”
“Thank you.”
Cassie gave Detective Falcone her front door key and gate remote.
Then the detective turned away and walked out.
Cassie followed her, feeling anxious all over again, and deeply worried that the detective suspected her after all. Falcone seemed highly intelligent, but she was quiet and reserved and Cassie had no idea what she was thinking. She could so easily piece together what had really happened, and expose their weak attempt at a cover-up.
As Falcone walked down the passage, she stopped, stared, and bent down.
Cassie didn’t dare to breathe, feeling dizzy as Falcone picked up a thin sliver of porcelain. They had missed that long, white splinter while they were cleaning up.
“What is this, do you know?” she asked, turning to Cassie.
Panic boiled inside her.
“I—I don’t know. I don’t know, I’m so sorry not to be able to explain. Where could it have come from?” she gabbled out.
“I wonder,” the detective said.
She opened her briefcase and took out a small evidence bag, dropping the shard inside, still with that considering expression, as if she was about to put two and two together and come up with exactly the right answer.
Then she did something that turned Cassie’s world upside down.
Detective Falcone stared up at the discreet eye of the security camera at the top of the stairs, and gave a small, emphatic nod.
Without speaking to Cassie again, she closed her briefcase and headed down the stairs.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Cassie managed to wait until the detective had closed the front door behind her.
Then she sank to her knees, feeling as if her legs had turned to water.
That camera footage would have faithfully recorded every detail. She’d forgotten all about those discreet, hidden eyes around the house. There was no way that the recording would lie. The position of that camera meant it would have recorded every detail of the fight, and the fatal fall. There was another one further down the passage that would have captured the earlier melee.
With a rush of horror, she realized the footage would also show their subsequent clean-up, the careful sweeping of the floor, checking for any signs they might have missed, picking up the hank of hair in
