Thirteen
The platinum blonde woman sitting across the conference room table from me and Ambrose is striking, but not because of her perfectly done hair, or her bright red lipstick. It's how closely she resembles the description given by the witness seeing a woman leaving Pete's house on the night of his death, and how similar she looks to Patricia.
Then there's the emotion in her eyes. I'm not sure what I'd call it, but it's certainly something more than indifference.
She fiddles with her wedding ring, revealing how nervously she's acting.
I check the file the manager at Pete's job gave us. Caroline Roland. The wife of Pete's desk neighbour.
"Last time we were here, you were sick at home, is that correct?" Ambrose asks, checking the list of people we interviewed.
"Hmm-hmm," she whimp
