Gary paused at the door. “Ready?”
Dan nodded, bracing himself for what awaited him in the small room.
They went inside and found Amy seated at the table, tapping the end of a cigarette on the smooth surface. She wore a dark blue tailored suit comprising pants, a vest worn over a white shirt with a wide collar, and a jacket. High-heeled black boots completed the ensemble. Her long auburn hair was swept back, revealing a forehead covered in fine lines. Her cool green eyes held intelligence.
And fear. That was a no-brainer.
Gary took the lead.
“Ms. Walsh, we spoke on the phone. I’m Detective Gary Mitchell. With me is Detective Riley Watson and Mr. Dan Porter, who is consulting for Boston PD.”
Amy raised her eyebrows as they pulled out chairs and sat facing her. “Wow. This feels like the Inquisition. Especially since you didn’t tell me what I was here to talk about.” She gave Gary an expectant gaze.
Dan had to hide his smile when Gary didn’t bite.
She glanced around the room. “Can I smoke in here?”
Riley chuckled. “Good luck trying to find any indoor space where you can dothatnowadays. And sorry. No, you can’t.”
Amy stared at Gary, her head tilted to one side. “Wait a minute. Didn’t I see you at the ball? You’re Brad’s brother, right?”
Why the fake surprise, lady? You know exactly who he is. Dan could read that as easily as he could read a newspaper. Amy Walsh was no actress.
Gary opened his notebook. “That’s correct. We’ve reopened the case.”
Amy frowned. “I’m not sure how I can be of any assistance, not after all this time.”
“Brad was supposed to be at Jason Kelly’s birthday party, wasn’t he? The day he died?”
She blinked. “Wow. Youhavebeen doing your homework. Yes. I think the last time I saw Brad was in college the Friday before. What happened to him was… horrific.” Her shoulders relaxed, and she put down the cigarette.
Dan smiled to himself.Don’t get too comfortable. We’re only just getting started.
Riley opened his folder. “We’re also investigating the death of Jeff Murphy.”
Blink. Blink.
“I thought… that case was closed, wasn’t it? The police didn’t find anyone who could have done it. They didn’t even have a suspect. And it’s been a year. Isn’t there a statute of limitations, or whatever it’s called, that says you can’t investigate a case after a certain length of time?”
Gary waited until she was finished, and yet again Dan was in awe of his coolness and sense of timing.
He leaned back. “Did you know him well?”
Amy shrugged. “Not really. There were an awful lot of us working at Rivera. Jeff was just another face in the crowd. And when the news broke about his murder, we were all devastated. I think something like that hits harder when the victim was someone you knew, even slightly.”
“Can you tell us where you were the night Jeff died?”
Amy stared at Gary. “Are you questioningeveryonehe worked with? Because like I said, that’s a lot of people.”
Dan couldn’t resist. “No, right now we’re only questioning you.”
His words had the desired effect. Amy picked up the cigarette once more and began tapping it. Her knee bounced a little. Her neat eyebrows scrunched up.
“But I don’t work at Rivera anymore,” she protested, a touch of impatience in her tone. “I left in February of last year.”
“A month after Jeff’s murder, then.”
Any frowned. “Well, yes, but that wasn’t why I left. I got a better offer.”