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“None.”
“No enemies?” He raised an eyebrow. “No one who might have something against her?”
Josie had only known Beatrice for a couple of hours, but it was easy to imagine why any number of people might draw horns on her picture. She thought again of the missing letter from Susan Pringle and wondered wildly what it might have said that was “confidential.” What had, just a few hours ago, seemed a cursory caution now took on sinister overtones. Had Beatrice been arrested at some point? Did she have a secret life that no one could know about? Did that have something to do with what was happening now?
“I don’t know of anyone in particular,” Josie said slowly.
He cocked his head slightly and looked at her, his blue eyes as coercing as an interrogation lamp. It was a far cry from the languid indifference he’d shown earlier. “You sure?”
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