Read If Looks Could Kill for Free Online

housekeeper, Carlotta. She works mainly during the week, but I believe she sometimes comes in on weekends.”
     From down the block I could hear church bells begin to peal and then, closer by, the whistle of a teakettle from an open window.
    “And as far as you know, Mr. Jones wasn’t around at all?”
    “From what Cat said, no. His name is Henderson, by the way. Jeff Henderson.”
    “What about a boyfriend?” he asked.
    “I beg your pardon?”
I said, startled. It was a split second before I realized he was talking about Heidi, not Cat.
    “Did she have a boyfriend as far as you know?”
    “I believe she had one at some point, but Cat said they were cooling it. You need to ask her about that.”
    “Did the nanny have any health problems? Was her health—”
    “You know, I’m sorry, but I barely knew her. Cat would know all of this.”
    He just stared at me, the pale eyes watering slightly. His look suggested that I’d be smart not to cut him off like that again.
    “You live in the city?” he asked after an uncomfortable moment.
    “Yes, in the Village.”
    “Why do you think Ms. Jones called you to come up here today?”
    “She was nervous, I think—worried. Heidi’s apparently always been very reliable, and so Cat became alarmed when she didn’t
     open her door.”
    “No, what I mean is, why you in particular?”
    “We’ve known each other a long time. I’m the kind of friend she can call at eight A.M. on a Sunday morning.”
    “What was her demeanor like when you arrived?”
    “Like I said, she was worried—very worried.”
    “She didn’t want to go in the room herself?”
    “I think she was just too scared to.”
    “Can I ask you something, Bailey, between the two of us? Did that seem funny to you? Her not wanting to go in alone?”
    “No, not at all. We talked about the possibility of drugs or alcohol or even suicide, and Cat didn’t want to face it all by
     herself.”
    “Suicide? Had Heidi been depressed?”
    “No. I mean, not that I know of. My point was simply that something seemed off, and as far as Cat knew it could have been
     one of any number of things. Or nothing. She just didn’t know.”
    He didn’t say anything else, just held my gaze momentarily before rising from the table. For now the interrogation appeared
     to be over. He asked for my phone number and address, jotting them down in the notebook and telling me he might need to get
     in touch in the next couple of days. He flipped the cover of the steno pad back over with one hand and led me back upstairs,
     where he collected Buzz Cut and announced they were going back downstairs. As soon as they were out of earshot, Cat grabbed
     hold of my sleeve.
    “Am I being paranoid?” she asked. “Or did they deliberately separate us?”
    “You’re not being paranoid,” I said as I poured myself more coffee. “That’s exactly what they did.”
    “That’s beautiful,” she said sarcastically, throwing back her head. Most of the hair that had been held up with the chopsticks
     was down now, cascading around her face. “I suppose that means they think we’re hiding something and they want to catch us
     in a lie?”
    “No, it doesn’t mean that. Cops interview bystanders and witnesses separately because if they’re in the same room, they often
     unconsciously try to make their versions fit together.”
    “Look, I haven’t had a chance to say this yet, Bailey, but I don’t know how I could have coped today without you.”
    “I’m glad I came. Your instincts turned out to be totally valid.”
    There was something I wanted to ask Cat, and this finally seemed like the right moment, but before I could, the doorbell rang.
     She went off to answer it, and a minute later Leslie Stone was striding through the kitchen.
    Thirty-eight years old, with brown eyes and thick brown hair worn in a China chop, Leslie was considered attractive, but personally
     I didn’t get it. Her nostrils were as big as kidney beans, and when I