Page 65 of The Trap by Catherine
If there was evidence in this house, the moment she was out the door, Caroline could set about destroying it. Angela at least had a photo of the world’s oddest gallery wall, but there could be more here. She couldn’t risk leaving Caroline alone with it.
Or, worse again, providing her with an opportunity to flee.
“How did you know Tana?” Angela asked.
“From school,” Caroline said.
“Primary or...?”
“Secondary.”
“And you were still in touch? When she went missing?”
Caroline shifted her weight. “We’d see each other around.”
“But you must have known her parents, from before?”
“They live close to mine. They wanted to talk to me, after... After she disappeared. Since I’d been the last one to see her, I suppose.” A pause. “At the bus stop.”
“What did you see, that night?”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s all in my statement.”
“Of course, yes.”
Still no sound of an engine coming up the drive. Still no flashing blue light pulsing through the curtains. Still no authoritative knock on the door, followed by a shoutedGardaí! Open up!
What if Denise never arrived? What would Angela do then?
She had a vague memory of something about the power of arrest, about how a non-Garda could effect one if the person was in the process of committing an offense, and they were handed over to a guard as soon as was practical.
But that was designed for security guards and shoplifters. Angela was a paper-pusher and all Caroline was currently doing was sitting in her own living room, looking at Angela expectantly.
And if Angela was going to fuck this up, there was no point in doing anything.
They’d never get a conviction after an unlawful arrest.If she made one, she might never get to be a guard.
But if she didn’t do something, a murder might go unsolved.
“What about Roland Kearns? Did you know him, from before?”
Caroline didn’t outwardly react, and maybe it was all in Angela’s head, but the air in the room suddenly felt charged with a new tension.
“Just from school,” Caroline said. “Like Tana.”
“Oh—so you were all in school together?”
A nod. “Same class.”
Caroline was absently tugging on the thin gold chain around her neck, running her thumb back and forth along it, pulling it away from her skin.
And then, perhaps unintentionally, out from underneath her collar.
Revealing the pendant that was hanging from it.
A small, gold heart, slightly old-fashioned-looking, with ridges across it at an angle and a tiny stone inset, something green. An emerald, maybe.
A piece of jewelry that anyone who followed the news would recognize, because its original owner was wearing it in her official photo.
