RoseBlood

Clarissa Newman

Lorraine and Paul Jones are next to make an appearance later in the day, some old friends and clients of my parents. It's a relief to study their expressions and see that the pitiful, overly sympathetic smiles weren't written all over their faces, like those I was bound to see at the funeral.

They both hug me and Lizzie, bringing us a big bunch of flowers, which Lizzie displays almost immediately. I feel a sharp pang in my stomach when I think of the bloodied roses Mum and Dad were gripping down in the basement that afternoon - but not one of the flowers in the colourful cluster are roses, none of the petals dripping with crimson gloop.

Duh.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Holly," Lorraine says earnestly, and Paul nods in agreement. "It's a horrible thing that's happened. And, of course, I'm always available if you need to talk at all."

"Thanks," I respond with a half-smile, following them into the main room. "It was definitely... well, a shock."

"It was," Paul replies, sitting down on the end of the corner sofa, where Brunsley sat before. I stare as casually as I can at his posture, mentally noting the differences between Paul Jones and Joseph Brunsley. There are a lot, by the way.

"It's terrible," he continues, his face falling into a frown. "They were a really lovely couple, and I've never known anyone to have with them."

"Of course not. Bobby and Judith were great to work with and were always kind and honest... I can hardly believe it, myself," Lorraine adds.

"Well..." I hesitate for a brief moment, debating on whether to push it a little with my questions. I could always blame it on the shock, or just lashing because of everything that's happened, if they're concerned with how I've worded something.

Yep. Good enough excuses. But gently does it.

"I guess everyone has enemies, don't they? Even my parents," I say vaguely, and Lorraine's brows twitch into a small, confused frown.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I saw their bodies, and it was... it was awful. But the way it was done makes me wonder if someone had something against them. I mean, I wouldn't know, and I doubt it, really... I'm just trying to make sense of it all."

"I've never known them to be unfriendly towards anyone," Paul says, shrugging. "Every one of their clients and friends are decent people. I hardly think it's anyone close to them who's done such a horrible thing. They chose their friends well, I'm sure of it."

Oh, are you?

"And the party was going great before..." Lorraine's words words falter, and I smile slightly, nodding for her to go on. "Was anyone that came familiar to you? Because I saw a few girls around your age that I've not met before, apart from Mia."

"No, I think Mum just invited them because they were the daughters of her clients," I tell her. "Most of the people that came were their clients, to be honest. Only a couple of people didn't make it - um, Clarissa Newman was one. They showed me the guest list."

A risky move. They might be old friends, but there's still that chance of either one of them being the RoseBlood Killer.

I study their expressions after I say the name, Paul looking bemused as he shakes his head. Lorraine's eyes widen a fraction in recognition, and she nods, a concerned frown on her face.

"Yes, I know Clarissa. She moved house to live around here earlier this year with the help of your parents, and works at a clothes shop in town. I knew her mother, see, right from college. I mean, she passed away a few years ago, but Clarissa's a lovely girl, probably the same kind of age as your parents were. A little timid, though. You know, the kind of person who prefers others speaking for them and stays away from the spotlight. Last I heard, she was having really bad migraines, poor girl."