Chapter Twenty-one

Sheriff Gallagher steps out of his cruiser and onto the winding driveway of the Cook's mansion, his eyes fixed on the grand estate. The sun casts long shadows across the manicured lawn, a stark contrast to the darkness gathering in his mind.

His gaze travels along the elegant fouintains, noting perfectly grown flowers. Sunflowers, dandelions and lilies decorated the building. He knocks on the door, and Dana answers, a look of surprise etched on her face.

"Sheriff? What brings you here?" Dana asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

Gallagher's expression remains stern. “Can I come in?”

Dana steps aside, allowing him to enter.

He drops onto the soft couch. "Dana, I need to ask you some questions."

As they walk into the foyer, Gallagher notices the elegant decor, a testament to the Cook family's wealth.

He drops onto the soft couch. "Dana, I need to ask you some questions.”

"Dana, I have a list of people who purchased specialized synthetic fibre gloves recently," Gallagher begins.

Dana's expression changes from curiosity to caution. She remains quiet and Gallagher pulls out the list.

"Your name is on this list."

Dana's eyes narrow slightly. "So?"

Gallagher's gaze intensifies. "Dana, those gloves were used in Lizzie's murder."

Dana's face remains calm.

"I'm an avid gardener, Sheriff. Those gloves are top-notch for protecting my hands from thorns."

Gallagher's eyes scan the foyer, noticing the lack of gardening tools or evidence.

"Can I see your gardening setup?" Gallagher asks.

Dana nods. "Follow me."

She leads Gallagher to a lush greenhouse on the estate's grounds. Inside, Gallagher sees an impressive array of plants and flowers. Dana gestures to a shelf stocked with gardening supplies.

"I swear, Sheriff, those gloves are just for gardening."

Gallagher examines the shelf, noticing the same brand of gloves on the list. But something doesn't add up.

"Dana, how often do you garden?" Gallagher presses.

Dana shrugs. "Whenever I have free time."

Gallagher's eyes lock onto hers. "Did you garden on the night of Lizzie's murder?"

Dana's expression falters for a split second.

"No... I was studying."

Gallagher's grip on his notebook tightens.

"I'll need to verify that alibi."

Dana's voice remains calm. "I understand."

As Gallagher thanks Dana for her time and turns to leave, he notices a faint scratch on her hand.

"Dana, what's that?" Gallagher asks, pointing to the scratch.

Dana's eyes flash with concern. "Oh, just a rose thorn."

Gallagher's mind races.

A rose thorn?

Or a sign of something more sinister?

He smiles. “Once again…. Thank you for your time Ms. Dana Cook.”

As he approaches his car, he looks down at the list again. Dana was certainly lieing. For someone who has an injury from a rose's thorn, not having a single rose was suspicious. And Gallagher certainly didn't see any rose plants.

So what could be the cause of the bruise? Wouldn't her family just cover her up and say she was really studying that night?