“You can suspect me all you want, Detective. But you’re wasting your time. I suggest you look elsewhere. Before you botch up yet another investigation.” I shoved the table, hard enough for it to push into Appin’s belly, but he didn’t comment. He knew what I was talking about. He’d been the detective on my parents’ case years ago. He’d failed then. But I wasn’t a helpless five-year-old anymore. I wasn’t going to take his ineptitude lying down this time. I’d be down here at his office every damn day until he worked out who’d murdered my uncle.
