Nina, his hat secured beneath his upper arm.
“Miss Sinclair? Police Chief Dallas w-would like a word with you.”
“Thank you, Nina.” She strode across the twelve-by-twelve-foot office and extended her hand in the chief’s direction, his firm handshake and stalwart face doing little to ease the tension seeping into her neck and shoulders. “Chief Dallas, it’s nice to see you. How can I help you this morning?”
Glancing quickly in Nina’s direction, he motioned toward the library’s main room with his chin. “I need a moment of your time, Victoria. Alone. It’s important.”
She nodded then addressed her assistant with as much cheerfulness as she could muster. “Nina, can you hold down the fort for a while? This shouldn’t take too long—” She looked to the chief for confirmation, the words dying on her lips as he shook his head.
“I’ve got it under control. You take your time, Miss Sinclair.” Nina turned on her heels and scurried down the hall, her back disappearing around the corner in record time. Squaring her shoulders, Tori gestured into her office. “Chief, won’t you come in and sit down? I wish I had some of that chocolate mousse pie you like so much but I wasn’t expecting a visit. Maybe next time?”
“Maybe next time.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad and pen, his fingers flipping it open as he walked. “Are you aware that Ashley Lawson was found dead in her car early this morning?”
She rounded the corner of the desk and sat down, her hand waving toward the folding chair on the other side. “Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you.” When he was situated he met her gaze, repeating his question once again. “Are you aware that Ashley Lawson was found dead in her car early this morning, Victoria?”
She considered her words. “As of about an hour ago . . . yes.”
“And how did you come to learn of her death?”
“A friend called and told me.”
His eyes narrowed. “May I ask who this friend was?”
“Melissa Davis.”
“I see.” He scribbled something in his notepad. “May I ask why she would call and tell you? Were you friends with Mrs. Lawson?”
She pulled a pen from the wooden holder between them and tapped it on the top of her desk. “I met Ashley Lawson for the first time yesterday evening. At a birthday party Melissa threw for her daughter right here in the library.”
“Go on.”
Flipping the pen onto its other end, she slid her fingers slowly down the shaft only to repeat the process all over again when she reached the bottom. “That’s it.”
“Did anything unusual happen during the party?”
“No. It was your basic child’s birthday party. They played games, they dressed up as their favorite storybook characters, they ate cake, they swung on a tire swing—”
“And where did this tire swing come from?” the chief asked,
“Milo Wentworth set it up about an hour before the party started. He had an old tire out in his garage and offered it to Melissa to use for the party. The kids loved it.”
“And the rope?”
She shrugged. “I think he had some of that, too.”
He nodded then jotted a few more notes in his pad while she continued. “I’d show it to you except someone took it down after the party. The tire is still there but the rope isn’t.”
“That’s okay, I’ve seen the rope. Or, rather, what I suspect is the rope.”
“Oh, okay, good. I was wondering what . . .” The words trailed from her mouth as he looked up from his notepad and simply stared at her.
She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea racked her body. When she opened them, he was still staring at her. “Tell me you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
“What do you think I’m saying, Victoria?”
“The rope? Was it used to . . . to kill Ashley Lawson?”
He sat back in his chair, his lips set in a grim line. “Yes, I believe it was.”
Pulling her hands upward, she dropped her face into them. “Oh, how awful.”
“Yes, it is. For her and her family.”
It was like a switch turned on in her brain, reminding her of one simple fact—no matter how unpleasant or rude Ashley Lawson may have been, she was someone’s mother. Penelope’s mother.
Blinking against the sudden moisture in her eyes, she popped her head up. “Do you have any idea who did this to her?”
“That’s why I’m here. To ask you that very same question,” he said, pinning her eyes with his own. “Because, from