Outside, she found Chris gone and DCI Hunter getting out of a black car at the pavement.
‘You sure you want to go in there?’ she asked, dropping her bags into the dirt again. She took pride in her appearance, and that extended to her accessories too; but what the hell – the bags were fucked, anyway, one scuffed, the other torn. Only the suitcase had stood up to the scrum.
‘Why? What’s up?’ he asked.
‘The place has been bulldozed. Six men went through it like a bloody hurricane.’
He stared at her face. ‘And why’s that?’
‘What?’
‘People don’t do things like that for no reason.’
‘I don’t know the reason.’ She kicked one of the ruined bags irritably. ‘How’s your day going, Inspector? You got any news for me?’
‘Like what?’
Annie felt her hackles rise at his calm tone. ‘Oh, let me think. Like who killed my best friend, and why, and what the fuck’s going to happen about that?’
‘The investigation is ongoing,’ said Hunter.
‘You’re very bloody annoying, you know that?’
‘Heard it said.’
‘I need to get to the bottom of this. I have to,’ said Annie fiercely.
Hunter leaned in. ‘No, Mrs Carter. What you have to do is assist the police in the course of this investigation, in any way that you can. Don’t give me any of your shit. Is that understood?’
Annie was silent, glaring.
‘Is it, Mrs Carter?’
‘Fuck off,’ she said, and turned and walked away.