It’s always the little details.
I didn’t tell Deborah that Neil was in Bilbao. And he wouldn’t have told her, either.
I’m reminded of what he said just yesterday. We keep to ourselves.
Deborah narrows her eyes at me. “Richard told me he was going to Bilbao. This morning.” She stands, her hand still outstretched. “Now, can you pass me my keys?”
I retrace my footsteps. Where I went when I called Neil. Bathroom, bedroom, bathroom. She’d been downstairs. She couldn’t have heard me.
Unless…
I think of the tiny eye, the secret camera watching me from the dresser in my room. Did I leave it covered? Neil said there was no camera in my room, but what if there was?
My question blurts out. “Have you been watching me?”
Deborah lets out a snort. Looks at me like I’m something she’s just stepped in. “What?”
I eye the folder under her arm. My chin juts. I summon all the courage I have. “What’s in there?”
Is it my imagination, or does a tiny bead of sweat form on her forehead? “Just some documents.”
“For the office?” I say.
“Yes. Now, can you hand me my keys already?”
She takes a step forward, and I take one back. It shocks us both. How instinctively, how quickly we moved. We lock eyes. The air is charged.
“I know,” I say, the heat blazing in my cheeks. “I know Richard’s real name is Neil.” I pause. “He told me about the investigation.”
Deborah stares at me. Pursing her lips, she takes a deep breath. “Well, I can’t imagine why he would do that.”
“And,” I continue, “When Neil told me the truth about why I was here—in town—I didn’t think you’d go along with it. But you did.”
She shrugs, looking more irritated than before. “He said it was better for the investigation.”
“Right,” I nod. “Well, I’ve discovered some things about Lisa since then. Things that the police investigators didn’t know until now.”
She says nothing, her lips a thin, unmoving line.
“She had a second phone,” I say, holding her gaze. “Did you know that?”
Her face reddens. “No, I didn’t.”
“Well, she did,” I say. “Neil told me. I was just talking to him on the phone. But maybe you already knew that.”
Her nostrils flare, and her voice is shrill with indignation when she speaks again. “How would I know that?”
“I keep thinking about my last phone call with Lisa,” I say. “She called me that night from the dock, you know.”
Deborah’s eyes flick to the keys in my hand again. Then she looks up, and glances at the knife rack in the centre of the island. It’s quick, but I catch it.
“But something strange happened,” I say. “Just before Lisa hung up, there was this sound in the background. Like a phone ringing.”
I pause for a moment. I can swear I see a twitch in Deborah’s eye.
I forge ahead. “It sounded just like your phone.”
A few moments pass. “It’s a bloody ringtone,” she scoffs. “Anyone could have it.”
“I’ve never heard it before,” I say. “It’s pretty unique.”
“So, what…” she says, glaring at me. “You think I was there? With her?”
“You were.”
“And you’re basing that on what? A phone that you thought you heard ringing?” she sneers. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, love.”
My hands are shaking, but I will my voice to stay steady. “I think I know the truth about what happened to Lisa that night. And you do too.”
“The truth? Well yes, actually, I do,” she says. “Like you, I also know a bit about this investigation. And from what I’ve heard, you were drunk when you spoke to Lisa that night.”
Deborah almost spits the words at me. “I bet you said something horrible to her. Something that was just enough to send her over the edge.”
How did she know I was drunk that night? Did Neil tell her? My mind is racing, looking for angles, trying to find something I may have missed.
But Deborah’s not done yet.
“And you’re wrong. I was right here,” she says, pointing her finger at the floor and stomping her foot in emphasis. “In this house.”
I’m almost willing Neil to arrive. If only he could be here now. He could be the objective one. He could corroborate my story.
And then I grab for another straw.
“If you’re not involved, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind the police searching the house. Right?”
Her lips twist in a parody of a smile. “And why would they do that?”
“The second phone,” I say, standing straighter. “I told you. Lisa had a second phone. They’re busy tracing it now. And you said you were friends. So she could have left the phone here.”
Deborah’s face turns white. It gives me the push I need to keep talking.
“Unless you know exactly where the phone is. Because you hid it.”
Her eyes are wide and frantic. “Give me my keys. Now.”
I put my hand behind my back defiantly. “No.”
My brain registers her movements too late. In a split second, she lunges for the knife rack. There’s a glint of metal in her hand as she hurls herself towards me. And then she’s on top of me, and I can’t breathe.