Page 64 of Unhinged

“Not to me.” She licked her lips. “Selah. She was wearing it the night she was murdered.”

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

Hannah stood off to the side, watching the proceedings, numb with shock. She couldn’t take her eyes off the necklace. Her necklace. The one hanging from the wall wasn’t hers; she knew that much. The matching locket was in her jewelry armoire, the clasp broken from so many years of wear. This one was pristine, and it looked exactly the way it had when they’d received them for Christmas, only a few months before Selah was murdered.

She was acutely aware of Luke shooting furtive glances her way every few seconds. It was both reassuring and unsettling. He’d immediately taken charge and called the cops in. Now he and Detective Sanchez stood off to the side, speaking quietly while the others combed the room.

The locket hung from the wall, the chain dangling from the blade of a deadly knife. Even from there, it looked wicked with a heavy-duty black handle. A chill snaked down her spine. Was that the same knife he’d used on Selah? The killer had left it for her, out in the open where she’d be sure to see it. Was he bragging about his accomplishments or indicating that she would be next?

The bastard had been in her house. How long had he been watching her, just waiting for the right moment? A combination of anger and fear sent her limbs trembling.

Within seconds, Luke was at her side. “You good?”

“Fine.”

He planted himself in front of her, obscuring her view of the room. “Sweetheart, you should sit down for a minute. Detective Sanchez wants to ask you a few questions anyway.”

Briefly closing her eyes, she swayed on her feet, and Luke yanked her against him. “We’re going downstairs. Now.”

“No.”

“Yes.” His eyes were hard as he stared down at her. “You need a break. Can you walk or do I need to carry you?”

“Luke…”

“Hannah.” His tone brooked no argument, and she huffed out a sigh of resignation.

“Fine. I’ll go make some coffee, and we can talk in the living room.”

She trudged downstairs, and the sound of the men’s footsteps followed several minutes later. Unintelligible words floated toward the kitchen as she measured out the coffee grounds and set the pot to brew. Her mind remained curiously blank as she loaded three mugs, milk, and sugar onto a serving tray.

She carried the tray out to the living room and set it on the coffee table. Studiously avoiding both men, she returned to the kitchen. She leaned against the counter as the percolator spit out the last of the coffee, then carried the carafe to the living room and set it on the table. Grabbing up a pillow, she hugged it to her chest as she curled into the corner of the couch.

Detective Sanchez shot Luke a quick look before glancing her way. “I’m sorry to see you again under these circumstances, Dr. Whitmore.”

She nodded politely, digging her fingers into the pillow. Luke poured coffee into a mug, then peeled the pillow away and pressed the mug into her stiff hands. Despite the temperature outside, she felt frozen, and she was grateful for the heat seeping through the porcelain.

“Thank you for coming.” She forced the words past the lump in her throat.

“So, you believe that the necklace belonged to Selah Wilson?”

She nodded.

His brow furrowed. “And you own one that’s identical?”

“Selah and I received those matching necklaces for Christmas. We wore them all the time. When the police found her…” She broke off and glanced away. “They assumed it was lost during the struggle, but they weren’t able to find it. Now… I guess he’s had it this whole time.”

“We’ll certainly analyze it. You’re positive it’s not yours?”

She shook her head. “Mine is broken. It’s been in my jewelry box for the last year or so, and I keep forgetting to get it fixed.”

“Would you mind if we took a look to compare them?”

She nodded reluctantly. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”