Court Out - By Elle Wynne Page 0,91

details.

Now what do I do? I start with his details. He’s 47 and lives on the other side of town. He appears to be unemployed with a wife and three young children. In his profile picture he looks a lot more animated than he did the last time I saw him.

I click to read the messages on his ‘wall,’ his virtual message board. It appears he has just returned from a holiday. A luxury holiday by the look of it. There are messages wishing him well on his cruise around the Caribbean and he has posted photographs of himself enjoying the finer things in life: champagne, a top tier cabin and fancy excursions.

A quick check of his wife’s profile informs me that she is unemployed too. How could they have afforded this? From the comments he’s posted about himself it would appear it’s not just a holiday either. He’s got a new sports car and they are moving to a new house next week.

My mind struggles to think rationally, trying not to jump to the obvious conclusion but fails miserably. To me it’s crystal clear. He’s been paid off. He was bribed. How else could he have the money to sustain this sort of lifestyle? Yes, he could have won the lottery or come into money legitimately, but what are the odds? Hobbs has money to burn and I’d bet my life on the fact he’d try and do anything to escape prosecution.

It can’t be that simple though. Hobbs couldn’t have approached him; it would have been way too dangerous. There are only really three suspects. Quinn is a well-respected, busy Silk and could never risk it. Rivers doesn’t seem to me as the type to do his own dirty work, but would he do it to further his career? The reality of my conclusion hits me like a punch. Serena. She was so jealous of me for landing the brief. She’s benefited from my demise more than anyone else, she’s suddenly flush with cash and now she’s landed a juicy brief. Whilst on paper it makes sense, I’m ignoring the fact she’s my best friend. Would she, could she, have really done that to me?

I sit at the table until the sun comes up. Sebastian texted me earlier to let me know that he was staying over with one of his friends. I’ve played the events over and over in my mind, wanting to find some fault in my logic. Unfortunately, I can’t.

I’ve scoured Rivers’, Serena’s and Walkers’ Facebook profiles over and over trying to find some further confirmation of my suspicions but have drawn a blank. Wait a minute, Lucinda. It only takes me seconds to pull up her page. That’s odd. For someone who used to update her status every five minutes, it seems that she has been silent now for about a month. Her personal information still lists her as ‘engaged’ though and there are countless pictures of her with Rivers. I have no idea what to make of this.

The adrenaline that has been sustaining my investigation suddenly subsides and I feel exhausted. I shut down the computer and make my way to bed, head full of impossible scenarios. I’m woken a few hours later by the arrival of Sebastian. From the look of it, he didn’t get much sleep either. I sit up.

“Sebastian, I’m so sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” I say, feeling terrible that I snapped at him.

He comes and sits next to me and embraces me in a tight hug.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You’ve had a really rough time of it recently.”

“No, you’re right,” I persist, “Look what I’ve done to myself. None of my clothes fit and I feel like crap.” I moan, realising instantly that I’m not just saying this for the sake of it.

Sebastian laughs and hugs me tighter.

“Stop being daft,” he berates, “You’re perfect.”

I laugh reluctantly and enjoy the comforting sensation his hold provides.

“Ewan’s not particularly happy,” he says after a few minutes.

“Really?” I enquire carefully, “Why’s that?”

“It’s Serena, apparently she’s being really weird with him.”

Alarm bells ringing, I sit up abruptly.

“How so?” I ask.

“Well, he said that she’s being totally unreasonable in her demands for the wedding, buying things that they can’t afford, biting his head off at every opportunity and generally being, well, a class A bitch.”

I chew on my nail and contemplate this. “Maybe it’s just nerves?” I speculate.

“Well Ewan’s certainly nervous!” Sebastian replies. “Have you