Page 63 of Ethan & Grace

“Detective Carter will be right with you. You can take a seat in the meantime.” He gestured towards the uncomfortable-looking chairs by the entrance and immediately turned back to his screen, as if we’d vanished into thin air.

“So polite,” Ethan murmured as he sat down beside me.

The chairs were narrow and placed so close together that his thigh pressed against mine. Or maybe he was doing it deliberately to calm me down. I couldn’t say why exactly I was nervous, but I felt as though I might throw up at any moment.

“Thanks for coming with me,” I said, turning to Ethan.

“Of course. I didn’t have anything else to do.”

I snorted and turned away, shifting so our legs no longer touched. “How lucky for me that you could spare a little time for me in your packed schedule. I really appreciate it.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him. It wasn’t his fault that my treacherous heart overvalued his kindness.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Let me rephrase: I don’t have anything else to do because being here with you is, by far, the most important thing,” he said, his voice steady. His blue eyes shone crystal clear. “I’m just happy to help you.”

His words in combination with his intense look stirred a deep yearning in my chest—not a physical one, but emotional. It was a risky balancing act, considering Ethan was only supposed to distract me from my pain, not cause me more of it.

Luckily, I was spared from having to respond, because at that moment, the door beside the reception area swung open forcefully. Detective Carter had arrived. She was a tall woman of around fifty, her brown hair pulled back into a tight plait. Her makeup was subtle, and paired with the elegant trouser suit she wore, she could easily have fit in at an evening event at The Darlington. The outfit looked very expensive, possibly even tailor-made.

“Miss Claymore. How nice to see you again,” Detective Carter said with a tight-lipped smile, extending her hand to me. I shook it. Then she turned to Ethan, who had also risen to his feet. A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “You’re Ethan Darlington.”

“My reputation seems to precede me.”

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” Detective Carter shot back before turning her attention back to me. “As Mr. Devlukia has already told you, there are no significant new developments in your sister’s case. If there were, we would have contacted your parents by now.” Her voice carried a hint of irritation, almost condescension, as if Amy’s death and my questions about the investigation were nothing but an unwelcome inconvenience to her.

“I know that. But why is there still no news?” I asked bluntly. “The accident happened three months ago. How can it be that in all this time, you still don’t have a lead or any evidence?”

“Because these things take time.”

“OK—but what exactly is taking time?” I pressed. I was surprised by my tone. I’d come today only meaning to ask about the footage from the security cameras, but standing opposite Detective Carter and seeing her patronising expression, I felt a rush of frustration and despair. “What are you currently doing to solve my sister’s case? Tell me. Step by step.”

Detective Carter’s smile became frosty. “Miss Claymore. I assure you we’re doing everything in our power.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.”

“I understand your disappointment.” She glanced at Ethan, as if warning him to keep me in check or risk getting in trouble. “But lashing out at me won’t help anyone.”

Ethan took a protective step forward. The corners of his mouth were upturned, but his smile looked forced. He clearly didn’t buy Detective Carter’s we’re-doing-all-we-can act either. “We’re here because we’d like to see the CCTV footage from the underground car park at The Darlington taken on the night of the accident.”

“I’m afraid such footage doesn’t exist. As the Claymore family has already been informed, there was apparently a problem with the security system at your family’s hotel that evening,” Detective Claymore replied in a tone that somehow implied it was Ethan’s fault the recordings were missing, simply because his surname was Darlington.

Rage flared inside me. How dare she not only lie but also try to shift the blame onto someone else?

Ethan raised his eyebrows. “There are no recordings at all?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

I could see Ethan’s composed facade starting to crumble too, but unlike me, he didn’t let his anger get the better of him. “We know from a reliable source that there are recordings from the underground car park.”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but this reliable source appears not to be as reliable as you think,” Detective Carter replied without batting an eyelid.

My patience snapped. “You’re lying!”

Her gaze cut into me like a blade, but I didn’t flinch. Nothing could hurt me anymore. I was untouchable. “You’d better watch what you say, Miss Claymore.”

“You watch what you say!” I hissed. Tears pressed against my throat, but I didn’t try to swallow them down. They weren’t tears of grief but tears of rage. They didn’t make me weak—they made me strong. “My sister is dead, and you’re doing nothing. Nothing! Because some rich wanker has slipped you money to make sure the case disappears into a drawer somewhere, unsolved. How much did they pay you? How much is my sister’s life worth? Enough to buy you a fancy new suit, by the looks of it.” I brushed my hand over Detective Carter’s shoulder as if to remove a piece of lint.