Read Online Betrayal by Gregg Olsen - Free Book Online

Annie said. The silk folds of the kimono swirled as Beth turned the hanger.
    â€œIt was a gift from my father when he went to Japan,” Kim said.
    Annie took the hanger and spun the garment around. “I see some loops here for a belt. Do you have that?”
    Beth glanced at her mother, and then turned to face Annie. “No,” she said. “I used a couple of neckties from my dad’s closet.”
    â€œYou what?” Kim asked, trying to keep her cool. While Beth’s mom could conjure a poker face when needed, this was not one of those times. She was mad.
    Beth knew what was coming, but she didn’t feel like backing down. Her mom treated the remnants of her sister’s and father’s lives like they were precious artifacts. She didn’t see it that way. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t use Christina’s Holiday Barbie for an art project or why her mother hung onto her dad’s clothes as if he were going to come back one day and wear them.
    â€œIt isn’t like Dad needs them,” she said. “They were skinny ties anyway. In style for about five minutes then back out again. Besides, I put them back.”
    â€œCan you get those for me, too?” Annie asked.
    Beth left the living room and returned with two silk ties. Her eyes were downcast, and her hands were shaking a little. She stood there, not saying anything.
    â€œWhat is it? What happened?” Kim asked, rejecting the urge to add “now” to punctuate the litany of disappointments hurled at her daughter since Annie’s arrival.
    â€œI can’t find the third one,” Beth admitted. “I used three.”
    â€œWhat color was the third one?” Annie asked.
    â€œPomegranate,” Beth said.
    Annie looked a little confused. “Pomegranate?”
    â€œDeep red.” Beth reached over and pressed a fingertip to a frilly chrysanthemum painted on the bottom of the right sleeve. “This color right here.”
    Annie’s eyes swept across the hem of the kimono’s sleeve. She felt sick to her stomach, and it had nothing to do with her all-protein diet. A speck of dark red pigmentation, a different shade from the chrysan-themum, stood out against the garment’s silk pattern. Port Gamble’s police chief recognized the color and shape: blood spatter.
    Oh no, Beth, not you.
    Trying to maintain her composure, Annie kept an even tone to her questioning. “I see. Can I borrow all of these? I promise to return them, but it might take a while.”
    Kim Lee’s anger dissipated. Something bigger was afoot, and she knew it. “Why do you want them?” she asked.
    â€œWe need to examine all the evidence,” Annie said.
    â€œWhat kind of evidence?” Kim stopped and waited, but Annie didn’t answer right away. “Is Beth some kind of a suspect?”
    Annie, who’d known Kim through the worst possible times—the bus accident that killed Christina and her husband’s suicide—looked down at the floor. It was a moment of awkwardness that sucked the air out of the room.
    â€œI can’t really say,” she said.
    Beth wondered if she was in trouble. If so, it had to be big trouble. The police chief didn’t come around collecting evidence because she had nothing better to do.
    Beth stood up. “You didn’t answer my mother. Am I a suspect here or something?” she asked with both force and fear in her voice. “I admit that I drank. I admit that I had a fight. But that’s it.”
    Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, Annie took the garment off the hanger, carefully folded it, and slipped it into a large, clear bag that she retrieved from her eco-friendly canvas tote. “Just procedure,” she said, her eyes fastened on Beth’s worried stare with a look she hoped conveyed reassurance.
    â€œI wasn’t even there when Olivia died,” Beth said. “I got sick, and we left the party