Liza blew into her tea but didn’t drink it, nursing the cup instead. “You’re right,” she said after a long while. “This is very strange, and I’m not sure what to think. Why would Naomi have been on the bridge with Yvette? She can’t possibly have seen Yvette and not told us...”
“Perhaps you should ask her,” Mitchell suggested gently.
“But then she might think it sounds crazy, too.”
For a while, the only sound between them was the rattle of china cups against saucers as they sipped their tea.
Eventually, Liza gave a loud tut and Mitchell wasn’t sure if it was aimed at him or not. “I’ll have to speak to her, won’t I? She’s the only one who can tell us that Petey was mistaken. He might have seen Naomi on the bridge another day, or he could have totally concocted this story. That’s possible, isn’t it?”
Even though he thought it was unlikely, Mitchell nodded.
Liza took her mobile out of her pocket. Her eyes swept around the room as she waited for Naomi to answer the call.
Mitchell’s heart pumped and he straightened up a place mat on the table.
“She’s not picking up.” Liza gnawed on her bottom lip. “Maybe she’s gone shopping or something. I need her to tell me that she wasn’t on the bridge that day, and that she doesn’t know anything about Yvette’s disappearance... She can’t possibly have lied to me about this.”
He heard urgency rising in her words. “We can go there now, if you like?” he offered. “I just need to be at home when Poppy gets back from the school club.”
Liza hesitated at first, but then nodded. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair and pushed her arm clumsily down the sleeve. “Please. Let’s go.”
When she and Mitchell got outside, they both slid silently into her car and the sky above looked gloomier than ever.
* * *
Naomi’s house was a half hour drive away. She lived on an estate of executive semidetached brick houses, which had at least two cars sitting on each of the driveways.
“I like this area,” Mitchell said, looking around admiringly. He imagined insurance brokers and business owners might live here. It was somewhere he and Anita would have aspired to live.
After parking, Liza pulled on her handbrake. “I’m really proud of her. She’s totally gorgeous and has a lovely home and family. And Yvette is so clever, too...”
She didn’t elaborate further and Mitchell thought she sounded rueful. He was an only child himself, and wasn’t used to the intricacies of growing up with siblings and the competition that might bring about. Sometimes Liza was so bright and full of life, and at other times her vulnerability felt raw to him. He side-glanced at her deep brown eyes, and couldn’t remain silent. “You’re all those things, too,” he said awkwardly.
Liza’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks, that’s nice to hear, among all this... But, I wasn’t fishing for compliments, you know?”
Mitchell opened his car door. “Come on,” he said kindly. “Let’s go and find out what’s going on for ourselves.”
When Naomi answered the door, she wore a string of spaghetti stuck to the front of her T-shirt. Her greeting was harassed rather than friendly. “Oh, it’s you guys. Was I expecting you?”
Liza shook her head. “It wasn’t a planned visit.”
“We were, um, passing by,” Mitchell said, and it sounded false, even to him.
“Well, that’s okay. I mean, I was in the middle of tidying up, but...” She cast her hand around weakly at the piles of toys and shoes in her hallway. “Sometimes it’s difficult to make even the slightest impact on this stuff.”
Mitchell and Liza followed Naomi through to her kitchen.
“I’ve run out of tea bags, but I have black currant cordial,” she said. “Or milk.”
“I’m not thirsty, thanks,” Mitchell said.
“Me neither,” Liza agreed.
“Just me then.” Naomi made herself a glass of cordial and smiled expectantly, waiting for Mitchell or Liza to speak.
Liza cleared her throat. “Well, we’re here because after Mitchell helped Yvette from the river, someone stole his toolbox from the bridge... We didn’t mention it over dinner.”
Naomi looked at him. “Oh, sorry about that.” She shrugged slightly, as if she didn’t understand why she needed to know this.
“My friend made a poster to appeal for its return,” Mitchell said. “A lady got in touch to say her brother had taken it. When I went to collect the tools, he told me that Yvette met with a woman, after her accident.”
“Oh...right.”
Mitchell saw the tendons tighten in Naomi’s neck.
“Did you meet Yvette on the bridge that day, Naomi? After Mitchell rescued her?” Liza asked firmly.
Naomi placed a hand against her chest. Her eyes appeared hurt, questioning how her sister could possibly suggest such a thing. “Me?”
“Yes, you.”
Naomi’s nostrils flared. “No, of course not,” she said sharply. She took a gulp from her drink then poured the rest into the sink.
Liza observed her. “The man said Yvette met her twin on the bridge, and she wore a gold pineapple necklace.”
Naomi’s face flushed bright pink.
Liza leaned forward as if she was about to leap over the table. “This is important, Naomi. Yvette could be in danger. Did you, or did you not, meet her on the bridge ten days ago?”
Naomi plucked at the piece of spaghetti on her T-shirt. “What danger?” Her voice shook.
Liza took the letter, signed with a V, from her pocket and tossed it onto the table. “I found this in her mailbox.”
Naomi tentatively picked it up. As she read it, the pink in her cheeks became a mottled red. “At Yvette’s apartment?”
“Yes.” Liza took the letter back from her and read aloud. “‘Don’t worry, I’ll find you. Won’t be long. I have eyes and ears everywhere.’”
Naomi shrank back.
“If this is from Victor, he could be closing in on Yvette,” Liza pleaded.
“I can’t tell you anything.”
“But you do know something?” Mitchell prompted.
Naomi pressed her back against the sink. Liza stood up and placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “What is it? What do you know?”
Her sister shook her head frantically. “I just can’t...”