Page 50 of Little Bitter Truths
“Did you tell Mia and Wren about your plan?”I asked.
“I didn’t because the house isn’t mine.”She pressed her lips together.“I know why you’re here and what you must think of me.What kind of person takes the cousins she cares so much about to court?And what must it have felt like for me to walk away with nothing?”
“They’re solid questions.”
“If you think I had anything to do with the murder, I didn’t.”
I shifted in my seat.“You mentioned that you and Wren were close when you were younger.What about in recent years?”
“We talked, but not as often as we once did.Life gets busy with children, relationships, and responsibilities.Still, we always shared a connection, even during the times we didn’t speak much.”
“When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“Wren’s birthday was a couple of months back.I sent her a card.”
“Did you hear back from her?”
Renee nodded.“She messaged me to say thank you, and she said we should catch up soon.”
“And Mia?What’s your relationship like with her now?”
“She invited us to the funeral, and we went, of course.When we were there, I offered my support.She said she’d let me know if she needed anything, but so far, I guess she hasn’t.”
“Does it bother you that she’s kept you at a distance all these years?”
She gave the question some thought.“Sometimes.At the funeral, we did share a tender moment, which meant a lot to me.I told her how sorry I was to hear about what happened to Wren.She said she was too, and she hugged me.If you know Mia, you know she’s not a hugger.”
Having Mia’s attention seemed important to Renee, like having a relationship with her was all she’d ever wanted.
Renee flicked a few tears away and said, “Wren was a kind person, a good person.A person everyone liked.She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”
I stared at her, taking in what she’d just said.
Was her grief real or practiced?
I wasn’t sure.
“Renee,” I said, “there’s something else I need to ask you.”
“Of course.”
“Where were you the night Wren was killed?”
“At home.”
“Is there anyone who can confirm that?”
“Helen, my neighbor, stopped by that evening to return a dish.”
“What time?”
“Around eight, maybe a little after.”
If the neighbor corroborated her story, there was no way Renee could have committed the murder.
“Did you leave the house at any point that night?”
“No.Not at all.”There was a pause, then she narrowed her eyes, cocking her head to the side.“I can’t help but feel like this is turning into an interrogation.”
