CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Patrick Coleridge’s elegant mansion looked even more exquisite when bathed in mid-morning light. Stella appreciated how the sunlight brought out the warmth of the stone cladding around the front door, and made the bright, white paint around the windows look pristine and immaculate.
There were two other luxury cars parked outside, and Stella recognized one of them from last night. It was Liane’s sister’s car. That hopefully meant Liane was home.
She knocked on the door, and a minute later, a butler opened it.
“FBI, here to re-interview Mrs. Coleridge,” Carrie said firmly, edging in front of Stella.
“Please come in,” the solemn, uniformed man said.
Stella heard subdued voices from the lounge, but the butler didn’t lead them that way. Instead, he headed further down the
