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‘You know what, don’t say anything!’ Leigh spat. ‘Just spend your whole life pretending not to give a shit about anyone besides yourself.’

Alex was pissed now. ‘It’s not a pretence, Leigh.’

Was that true? Not totally. But Alex wasn’t about to let Leigh know there was anything resembling a grey area in her heart. It would be better for them both to accept that Alex was only about Alex.

‘I’m sure that’s why your fingernails are buried in the steering wheel,’ Leigh observed.

Alex hadn’t realised she was dug in so deep. She relaxed her grip, disconcerted. When she’d been a kid, she’d worn out several stress balls to destruction. But as she’d gotten older, she’d become better at removing herself from her emotions. Stress balls had become unnecessary.

But looking at the little half-moon marks on the steering wheel, she was reminded of those ripped-to-shit little balls.

‘That’s it, I’m switching to decaf,’ Alex quipped.

Leigh said nothing.

They were back around the corner from Leigh’s office. Alex was relieved. She was worn out from being with Leigh. She simply asked far too much, and she had no right to do that. Alex had made it clear she didn’t have anything to give.

‘Here we are,’ Alex said, pulling up.

‘Thanks,’ Leigh said, unclipping her belt. But she didn’t get out of the car.

‘You forget something?’

‘Do you seriously think I should stop doing this?’ Leigh asked.

Alex felt a stab of fear. The last time this topic had come up, she’d ended up with Leigh on her lap. They needed to keep it light.

‘I think I don’t know what I’m talking about when it comes to you,’ Alex said lightly. ‘I should stick to having opinions only when I’m paid to.’

‘Yeah, you’ve made that clear,’ Leigh said, and she got out of the car.

Alex watched her go, her waist swinging with an angry gait, taking her somehow furious bum into the revolving doors of Carter and Simon.

Once she was gone, Alex had the worst thought she’d had in a long time. A real punisher.

She could have been yours if you weren’t such a fucking coward.

Alex closed her eyes and used all her will to erase the thought. When she felt able to convince herself she’d achieved it, she opened her eyes and drove off into the night.

Thirty-Two

‘But I spoke to her last night,’ Leigh said in the conference room the next morning, aware her voice was rising.

‘Who?’ asked Cybill Turner, her eyebrow raised.

She was only one of the four senior partners who sat around the table, but everyone knew her voice was the one that mattered. Everyone else would fall in line with her will.

‘I can’t say,’ Leigh said.

‘So you spoke to someone you cannot name, and therefore, cannot be properly vetted, who had an axe to grind with Erin?’ Cybill asked cynically.

‘Axe to grind?’ Leigh repeated, slightly shocked. This was not going the way she’d hoped.

‘Have you spoken to anyone that can confirm she was ever in that house?’ Cybill asked.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’