Saoirse POV Detective Reyes came to my mother’s apartment on a Wednesday, eight days after I reported Derek missing.I had been expecting her. Or someone like her. The Verdict Killer, the man whose name I did not yet have, the man I was still, in my own head, calling ‘him’ had told me at the door that the detectives would come, and he had told me what to say, and he had been right about the coming the way he had been right about everything else, and the rightness was its own kind of cold comfort.Reyes was younger than I expected. Early forties. A navy blazer, a notebook she did not open for the first ten minutes, the easy manner of a person who had learned that people tell you more when you do not appear to be writing it down.Siobhán made tea.Reyes accepted a cup and did not drink it, which I noted, because I had spent three years learning to read the small tells of people in my kitchen, and a person who accepts tea and does not drink it is a person whose hands want something to do
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