Chapter 11
The lights from the police cruisers flashed blue and red, staining the creamy white stucco of Colin’s rented house. Audrey sat on the front stoop, arms wrapped around herself as if to ward off a chill. One of the officers had offered her a blanket, but she’d refused.
Michael wished he could go to her, but he doubted whether the officer currently interviewing him — a Detective Mendoza — would appreciate the interruption.
“When was the last time you communicated with the victim?” the detective asked.
“He came over to our house for dinner on Sunday night,” Michael replied. “And I talked to him on Monday. But that was the last time. I had a few business-related questions I needed to discuss with him, so when he didn’t answer any of his texts today, Audrey and I decided we’d bett
