Her Frozen Cry (Detective Amanda Steele) - Page 10

FOUR

It had taken longer than anticipated to deliver the news to Alicia’s family, and by the time Amanda and Trent were headed to Central, it was going on six o’clock. Amanda fired off a quick text to Libby Dewinter, Zoe’s “aunt,” to let her know she was running a little late tonight. Libby had been scheduled to stay until five thirty, but she understood that Amanda’s job wasn’t always set hours.

“We’ll just update Sergeant Malone and call it a day,” she said. “Start fresh tomorrow.” A message had come in from Rideout advising the autopsy was tomorrow morning at nine.

“Works for me.” Trent pulled into the lot for Central.

The station was one of three belonging to the Prince William County Police Department. The building itself was mostly a single-story redbrick structure with the exception of one second-story office tower, sided with formed aluminum panels. It was situated on a country lot surrounded by trees and would have been a serene setting if not for the nature of the investigations that went on within the station’s walls. In addition to Homicide, there were bureaucratic offices, including the one that belonged to the police chief.

Trent parked but didn’t turn the car off. He looked over at her. “Just how well do you know Tony Bishop?”

Given the way he was looking at her and the tense energy in the car, he wasn’t going to take a brush-off. “He was a friend.”

“A close friend?” he countered. “He calls you Mandy, and he hugged you.”

Jealous? The idiotic thought passed by in a flash. “It’s nothing. We’ve known each other since high school. He married Claudia, and I married Kevin. End of story.” Not exactly, but she wasn’t getting into the nitty-gritty.

“I see,” he said slowly.

He probably didn’t, but she wasn’t going to challenge his claim. She pointed toward the building. “Shall we?”

His mouth opened, shut, then he said, “Sure,” and got out.

They bypassed the warren of cubicles belonging to Homicide and continued on to Sergeant Malone’s office. They found him at his desk, typing something into his computer. “There you are.”

“Here we are,” she parroted. Malone had sent a text about an hour ago requesting a briefing but hadn’t followed up. Scott Malone and her father had been best friends and that made the sergeant a family friend. As such, Malone extended her more leash and patience than he did others working under his command.

She sat in one of the chairs across from him, and Trent got comfortable in the one beside her. They filled him in on the little they knew.

Malone leaned back in his chair and swiveled. “When is the autopsy scheduled?”

“Tomorrow morning at nine.”

Malone barely nodded. “Could it have been suicide or an accident?”

“This case could go any way. Even natural. As for suicide, we did ask the husband if he’d noticed if she was depressed. He didn’t think so.”

“Suicidal behavior involves far more than just visible signs of depression. You might want to do some research on the matter and revisit the husband.”

Amanda wouldn’t look forward to that conversation. “Will do.” She got up and left, Trent on her heels.

He leaned in toward her. “You’re not going to tell Malone about knowing the vic’s husband?”

“Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”

She met his gaze, and his eyes questioned her.

She put up her hands. “What?”

“Nothing.”

But it was something. He was judging her, questioning why she hadn’t just told Malone. And maybe the “family friends” connection with the sergeant could extend her favors, but she wasn’t willing to test it right now. “I’ll bring it up when and if it matters.”

Trent nodded.

They stopped in the section of hall that split—one way toward the exit, one toward the Homicide Unit. “If you want to stay and look into signs of suicidal behavior, be my guest, but I need to go,” she said.

“I understand.”

And he probably did more than she wanted to admit. Trent seemed to get her, and it probably hadn’t escaped his notice she was reeling from the events of the day. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Here, eight twenty, and we’ll head up for the autopsy together.”

“All right. I’ll bring us coffee.”

She dipped her head. There were times it felt like he was too good to her, and too good to be true. Dangerous territory, and something she had fought so hard against at the beginning of their partnership. Somehow over time, though, the barriers had lowered and their relationship had grown comfortable and casual. “Night,” she said and left.

Amanda got into her Honda Civic and headed home. She lived in Dumfries, a ten-minute drive from Woodbridge, but tonight, in some ways, she wished it was longer. She wanted to get home to Zoe and hated being late for her, but Amanda’s mind was a mess. It kept serving up memories of all the times she and Kevin spent with Tony, and his wife, Claudia. How much fun they’d all had whether it was a night in or on the town. Tony must have been at a loss for what to say and do, and that’s why he’d withdrawn. And while she let the friendship dissolve, Tony and Claudia should have been there for her. It was hard to forgive either of them for that.

And as if running into Tony wouldn’t have been hard enough to handle on its own, his bride of six months was dead. Murdered? Death by suicide? Accident? Or natural causes? In one sense, the result was the same no matter what manner of death—a loved one was lost. Of all the options, though, murder could provide firm closure, if the killer was caught and held to justice. There would be an answer to why, even if it was bitter to swallow.

Amanda pulled into her driveway. The bungalow she’d bought with her husband seemed to be staring at her, as if it had eyes. The clock on her car’s dash told her it was six thirty-three. She should be rushing to get inside, but she sat there, just for a few minutes to get her bearings, to soothe herself. She took several deep breaths. Then she went inside.

“Sorry I’m late,” she called out, but no one came to greet her. Zoe was often on the couch in the living room that was to the left of the front door, watching TV with Libby.

Amanda hung her jacket on the full-sized coat tree in the entry, and her gaze caught on the small one there for Zoe. It had belonged to Lindsey. Amanda thought it would be hard to see it being used again, but somehow knowing that it was repurposed filled her with hope for a brighter future.

She slipped out of her shoes and started down the hall toward Zoe’s room. Hearing peals of laughter, Amanda smiled. The girl had filled the home with light and love again, worming into Amanda’s heart and healing her.

Amanda poked her head through the doorway and found Zoe and Libby playing Frozen. Zoe was in the Elsa costume Amanda had bought her for Christmas. It came with a gown, tiara, wand, braided-hair extension, and gloves. Zoe was decked out in every piece. Libby wasn’t dressed up but was apparently playing a scared townsperson, with her arms flailing in the air.

“Hello, guys.” Amanda inched her way into the room, and Libby laid a hand over her heart.

Tags: Carolyn Arnold Thriller
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