Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,32

onto the ramps. Night had fallen and the crash site was lit by the forensic team lights. Numerous moths and bugs flitted in the beams, suicidal as they hurtled themselves at the piercing brightness. The car would be checked over thoroughly but Baroni had already flashed her torch over the seats. There were no bodies. A small amount of blood on the driver’s seat but that was it. She looked up at the torches flaring through the olive groves, could hear the sounds of the dogs as they strained at their leads. Were the women out there somewhere, perhaps having wandered off from the scene to get help? Or had one tried to escape from the other and failed, now lying dead and bloodied under an olive tree? Somehow she sensed not. Baroni’s instincts told her these women had gone in the direction of the road. She looked into the darkness, the same way that the car had been facing. In her gut she felt the two sisters had continued on the same course. She called over to Captain Santini and they got back into their patrol car.

Standing outside the ochre-painted house, Baroni knocked for a second time. Santini was standing next to her, his whole body hyper with impatience. He raised an arm, about to hammer on the door again, but she flashed him a look and he sulkily pulled back. Inside she could hear the sounds of people in for the evening – and a woman’s voice calling out to her husband to answer the door as she was cooking.

A few seconds later the door did open and Baroni was faced with a portly middle-aged man. She introduced herself and the glowering captain by her side, apologized for disturbing him that evening, then confirmed with the man that he owned the garage on the edge of the village. She clocked his slightly nervous, shifty stance when she mentioned his premises, but focused on Signoras Morelli and Spencer.

‘Did two women in their thirties visit your garage today?’ She supplemented her question with a photograph of the two sisters that she had got from the mother’s phone.

He glanced down at it and scratched his head. Squinted as if he couldn’t quite make it out. Baroni bit back her frustration, prayed Santini would keep his cool.

‘Well?’

He pulled a face, sucked in his cheeks. Frowned as he kept on looking at the phone.

If he doesn’t answer me in the next ten seconds, thought Baroni, narrowing her eyes, I’m going to have him investigated for whatever minor misdemeanour he’s hiding; fiddling the books most likely. That’s got to be at least six seconds, she thought, mentally counting. Seven, eight, ni—

‘Si, I recognize them.’

She smiled. Just before the bell! Luckily for him.

‘What did they come in for?’

‘To rent a car.’

‘I need the vehicle type and registration plate,’ said Baroni, and after the dealer had got the information, she and Captain Santini left.

TWENTY-THREE

Susanna had been awake most of the night. She lay in her bed as the light crept around the edges of the blinds, feeling her heart sink at what she knew was going to be another hot day. She’d need to stay inside; in fact, would probably have to do so for a couple of days. Her skin was still sore from lying out on the patio in the full sun the previous afternoon and her head was pounding.

She slowly swung her legs off the bed and onto the floor. She needed to get to the bathroom and, carefully pulling a towel around her for modesty, she quietly opened the door and crossed over the landing. She locked the bathroom door behind her, relieved not to have seen Matteo.

As she turned, she caught sight of her face in the mirror. It was still red, one side brighter than the other from where it had taken the full force of the sun as it had lowered across the sky. Her hair was still matted and her scalp was sore from the fall. She tentatively raised a hand to touch the wound, felt the skin raised from swelling. Tears clogged her throat but she kept them back; no point feeling sorry for herself. She stared, seeing an ugly woman in front of her. Maybe she should have gone to the hospital after all. But it had been important – no, essential – to tell the police about Abby and the danger Ellie was in. She’d needed to do that before attending to her own injuries.