Black Orchid Girls (Detective Amanda Steele)

FORTY-ONE

The McMillans lived in a stately home with a large front yard, wide driveway, and a double-car garage. The Mercedes was in the lane, but the couple’s BMW could be in the garage.

Amanda rang the doorbell, Trent by her side. A trickle ran down her spine, telling her it was a horrible idea to come here with no other backup.

The door was opened by the woman who had been standing next to the professor at the church. A face Amanda now recognized from the background they’d pulled on Leah McMillan and her driver’s license photo. Amanda and Trent held up their badges.

Amanda introduced them and asked, “Is Stephanie home?”

“She is, but now really isn’t a good time.”

“We won’t be long.”

Leah’s gaze flitted about, landing briefly on Amanda, then Trent, then behind them to the street. “Fine. Come in.” She opened the door wider.

The home was open concept from the front door, and there was a large, circular table in the middle of the entry beneath a teardrop chandelier. A staircase swept up the right wall, and there was a small landing that overlooked the entry. But in spite of the grand opulence—something that didn’t really impress Amanda at any time—the vase of flowers on the table had her attention. Black orchids.

“You have a beautiful home,” Amanda said, moving farther inside the house.

“Thank you.” Leah’s body language was stiff and awkward. She clasped her hands in front of herself, then let them fall free. “Let me get Steph. I’ll be right back.” She took off up the staircase.

Amanda and Trent stared at the orchids and then each other. “Black orchids in plain sight,” she whispered.

Trent nodded.

She thought about calling Malone right then and there, but given his current mood, he would likely say a few in a vase hardly constituted a smoking gun.

Footsteps padded overhead, toward the back of the home. Then low voices.

Amanda immediately moved deeper into the house, working in the direction of where the greenhouse had been on the satellite image.

“What are you doing?” Trent hissed from the foyer.

“Greenhouse,” she said over her shoulder.

He shook his head. She kept moving.

She had a backup plan if she got caught snooping. She kept her steps light and slinked down a corridor. Trent would no longer have a line of sight to her, and it was possibly risky doing this, but Stephanie, their suspected killer, was upstairs. Amanda would be fine.

Light spilled into the hallway straight ahead. Her target was just a few feet away.

She picked up her pace. Stopped cold.

More movement above her, footsteps headed for the front of the house.

Frick!

She hustled, giving quick looks around her. She reached the door for the greenhouse and held her breath as she turned the handle. It was unlocked. She went inside, and stepped into a space overrun with different varieties of orchids in assorted colors, along with roses and other flowers Amanda couldn’t name. She found the black orchids in the far corner of the greenhouse, farthest from the house. Why were they tucked away back there, or was it where Leah always kept them?

Amanda picked up her pace. She needed to look at the plants and search for any evidence that stems had been cut recently.

Her heart was racing, and her mind was screaming at her to hurry the hell up and get out of there.

She reached the plants and inspected them. Then she spotted what she was searching for—several, in fact. Would any of these cuts match up with the stems left on the girls’ bodies? She pulled out her phone and took a few pictures.

“Detective Steele, is it?” A man’s voice from behind her.

She pinched her eyes shut briefly, trying to calm herself, and slowly put her phone away. She faced him and smiled. Professor McMillan, and he was still dressed in the suit he’d worn to the funeral.

“Oh, hello, Professor.” She did her best to hide the fact that she’d been busted where she had no right being.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was looking for the bathroom when I noticed all these beautiful flowers. I got distracted. But I really need to go.” She winced and bounced in place.

He was scowling. “Well, you’re not going to find a bathroom in here.”

“As I said, I got distracted, and it’s been one of those days. I must have gotten turned around.” She went to pass him, but he remained immovable.

“First door on the right. You would have had to go by it to get here. Why are you in my house?”

“We just wanted to speak to Stephanie. My partner’s at the entrance waiting for her.”

He still hadn’t shuffled aside to let her by, and she had this sickening feeling of dread. Someone right under their nose. Someone at the school… They’d been focused on the students, but what if— No, what motive could he possibly have?

“Why do you want to see Stephanie?”

“She seemed quite upset today. We wanted to check on her.” She put it out there nonchalantly, as if this were just a social visit.

He stiffened. “Well, she did lose a classmate in a horrible way. That’s bound to do it.”

“Very true. Two classmates, in fact.”

“Right. So I’m not sure why you’d want to bother her now. Her mother and I can take care of her.” He pinned her with his gaze, and she didn’t like how it sent shivers slicing through her. He was also still blocking her path.

What motive? The question repeated in her head with the rhythm of a repetitive—and annoying—bass beat.

“Detective Steele?” Stephanie was in the doorway of the greenhouse with Trent and Leah. “Mom said you wanted to talk?”

The best way to describe Stephanie’s expression would be distraught, plain and simple. Her hair was frizzy, and her face was blotchy. Her eyes were bloodshot and shadowed with dark rings.

“We would like to, yes,” Amanda said, stepping around William.