Chapter Thirteen
Tuesday, 4:32 p.m
“You don’t really believe Zee could have killed Barry, do you?” Tara asked Detective Sharp with that charming tilt of her head I had seen wrap countless men (and several women) around her little finger.
I shot her a wary sidelong look from where I stood next to her on the landing of my apartment. According to Tara, the detective wasn’t free-spirited enough to be her type, but at the moment I was starting to wonder whether she had been telling the truth.
Tara ignored me and began toying with the end of her long French braid as she continued. “I mean, she doesn’t even eat meat!”
My glare hardened. Tara knew I liked to be low key about my eating preferences. So why was she bringing them up now, while Detective Sharp was rooting around my apartment?
To
