“Name’s Bethany Gree
ne, and she was the victim’s best friend, according to her anyway. She arrived here at nine thirty. She and Shannon were to go to yoga together at ten.”
That explained the mat. “How did she get inside the house?”
“Short answer, she has a key. Long answer, she knocked on the front door and called her friend’s cell phone, and when she got no answer, she let herself in.”
Amanda glanced past Becky to Bethany and, at this distance, noted her cheeks were puffy, her eyes bloodshot, and her mascara smeared.
“Did she touch anything in the house?”
“She says no. She’s real shaken up, though.”
“I can understand that. Okay, we’ll go talk to her.” She brushed Becky’s arm on the way past. “Ms. Greene?” Amanda called out.
The woman looked up from where she’d been staring at the sidewalk, but there was nothing behind her eyes—like she was in some distant world, avoiding reality.
“I’m Detective Amanda Steele, and this is my partner, Detective Trent Stenson.”
Bethany barely blinked.
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Amanda offered softly. She paused, giving Bethany ample time to insert something, but she didn’t. “It must have been quite the shock finding your friend that way.”
“I— I don’t have…the words.” Bethany’s voice cracked like thin ice.
“We understand that you gave your statement to Officer Tulson, but we have some questions for you. Some may be ones you’ve already answered, but bear with me, okay?” Amanda thought she’d get in front of an objection that always came.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Bethany rolled her mat across her lap as if seeking a mindless distraction from her grief, her fear, whatever other emotions were swirling through her.
“Do you know if Shannon was on the outs with anyone? Someone she didn’t get along with?” Amanda had told Trent they needed to examine Fox’s personal life, and she’d been serious about that endeavor.
“I can’t imagine anyone doing that… that… to her. They cut out her—” She cupped her mouth.
It obviously hadn’t escaped Bethany’s notice, even in the horror of the bloodshed, that her friend had been mutilated. “Did you touch her, or anything in the house?”
“No.” She sniffled.
“How long were you two friends?” Trent asked.
“A few years, but we got close fast. Had a lot in common.” She added the last bit with a shrug.
“It’s awesome when you find someone like that. What similar interests did you share?” Amanda wanted to set Bethany at ease as much as possible, given the circumstances, so she’d continue to open up.
“We’re both in our forties, single, never married. We like to do yoga and eat healthy. We’re also members of a singing group out of Washington.” Bethany rattled off everything in present tense, which was completely normal in the immediate aftermath of loss—even for some time after.
“Sounds like a great friendship.” Amanda offered a gentle smile. “Was she dating anyone?”
“Ah, no. You get to be our age, and the dating pool’s smaller than a kiddie pool. They’re either married and cheating scum, pot-bellied, or liars. Sometimes all three. Most have so much baggage, they’d need to pay extra to travel by plane.”
Hearing Bethany’s bleak view of dating was depressing, possibly true. Amanda hadn’t really given it much of a shot. One-night stands were much simpler. No names, no questions, no emotional connection. But as they added up, they took a toll.
“What about family?” Trent interjected. “Does she have any in the area?”
Bethany gave a small bob of her head. “Her sister lives in town. Her dad? No one knows where he is. He ran off when she was a girl. The mom died of a drug overdose several years ago. She never was much of a mom.”
“Doesn’t sound like it…” Amanda recalled how Shannon had given the impression she could relate to the squatters at 532. Had Shannon ever taken to the streets? She’d ask but wasn’t sure if it would be relevant to the case. Then again… Her eyes widened, considering. What if Fox was somehow linked to sex trafficking like they knew Jane Doe had been? Maybe even a victim at one time who had escaped. If Fox was somehow wrapped up in the ugly mess, that could be another thing linking her murder to Jane Doe’s. But she talked herself down. She was getting ahead of herself.
“We’ll need to get her sister’s information,” she said to Bethany.