The cameras flash repeatedly; he keeps his expression suitably serious. A bereaved husband, grateful at last that his wife’s killer has been arrested.
Chapter Thirty-two
AN OFFICER STICKS his head in Webb’s office door and says, ‘The Sharpes and the Newells were all fingerprinted this morning, sir. And something very interesting has turned up.’
Webb looks down at the report. What the hell was Paul Sharpe’s son doing in Amanda Pierce’s house?
Olivia sits on her bed and looks at herself in the dresser mirror. She’s ashen. The detectives have called and want to see her again. They have asked her to bring Raleigh, too.
Raleigh is in his room, having stayed home from school. Glenda is sticking by Olivia and Raleigh – showing people that she supports them. Olivia feels better having Glenda here. She remembers how people had stood and watched outside of Robert Pierce’s house, not that long ago, thinking that Robert Pierce had murdered his wife. And now there are people outside of her house, thinking that Paul is a killer.
When she and Raleigh arrive back at the station, she is directed into an interview room, while Raleigh is asked to wait outside. Webb and Moen are there waiting for her. She’s caught them in the middle of a conversation, which they abruptly break off.
‘Mrs Sharpe,’ Webb says. ‘Thank you for coming in. Just so you know, this interview is purely voluntary; you are free to leave at any time.’
Detective Moen brings her water and looks at her as if in sympathy. Men can be such shits.
Olivia’s mouth is dry. She swallows. There’s absolutely nothing she can tell them, one way or the other. She doesn’t know anything. Nothing that happens in t