Page 29 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

“Caitlyn called me,” he explained as he plowed stiff fingers through his hair.

“That still doesn’t explain why I’m sitting in my office and Rob Stanton—you know, one of the senior partners who just happened to be working today—pokes his head in and suggests I go into the conference room to catch the noon news. Jesus, couldn’t someone have thought to pick up the damned phone so I might not get blindsided?” She was seething, her cheeks flushed, her lips turned in on themselves.

“It was a mistake,” Troy said.

“So then I try to call you—” She turned on Caitlyn. “And all I got was your machine.”

“I turned off the phone. Reporters.”

“Figures. They’re the worst kind of carrion eaters around. Just the hint of a scandal and they come out of the woodwork.” She took in a deep breath and shook her head as if to clear it; then her expression softened. “God, Caitie, how’re you doing?”

“I’ve been better.”

“The police have been asking her questions,” Berneda cut in.

“They just dropped by to tell me about Josh.”

“But you said you weren’t a suspect.” Berneda’s skin turned the color of the weathered siding.

“What she said was that she didn’t know what the police were thinking,” Troy explained to his older sister. “Josh may have committed suicide or . . . well, there could be foul play, right, Caitlyn? Isn’t that what you made of it?” he asked, making sure he’d gotten all the facts straight.

“That’s essentially what Detective Reed said.”

“Damn it all,” Amanda muttered.

“If it turns out to be homicide, then they’ll take a closer look at all of us.” Troy glanced at his mother’s horrified expression. “Come on, Mom, you know the drill. The people closest to the victim are always at the top of the suspect list. We’ve been

through this before.”

“Too many times,” she agreed as she watched a butterfly flit near a lilac bush.

“But they’re not sure it’s homicide. That’s good.” Amanda was thinking aloud.

“There is nothing good about this,” Berneda whispered.

Amanda’s face was grim, the wheels in her mind obviously already turning at a rapid pace. “Marty from Accounting knows someone on the force. Maybe he could get the guy to tell us what the police are really thinking.”

“Oh, my God, you’re worried.” Berneda struggled to sit up higher in her chair, and Lucille was at her side in an instant, plumping her pillows.

“I just can’t believe Josh would kill himself,” Caitlyn insisted.

“You don’t know that.” Amanda dropped into one of the chairs surrounding the table. “No one knows what someone else is thinking. Look at Bill Black. From outward appearances the guy had it all—partnership in one of the best legal firms on the East Coast, a beautiful young wife, two cute, healthy kids, a house worth a fortune and another place in the Catskills. Free and clear. Then one day, for no apparent reason, he goes into the garage, puts a hose in the tailpipe of his new Mercedes and ends it all. No one knew that he was being blackmailed, no one knew that he was accused of raping and impregnating an underage client. No one, not even his best friend, thought Bill had a problem in the world. They were wrong.”

Caitlyn shook her head and stared at the hills to the west and the lowering sun. “I know Josh.”

“Knew him,” Troy corrected. “And Amanda’s right. Let’s just wait and see what the police come up with.”

Berneda turned her attention to her eldest daughter. “But if Caitlyn needs a lawyer, could you help her?”

“I’m not a criminal attorney,” Amanda said, her voice tight. “I gave that up years ago. I deal in tax law and estates. You know that.”

“I know, I know, but I’m worried. You worked for the District Attorney.”

“And hated it, remember? Dealing with all those lowlifes and idiots and . . . anyway, I’m glad I gave it up.”

“Can you recommend someone?” Berneda asked, worrying the pearls at her neck.

“Jesus, let’s not borrow too much trouble!” Troy searched in his shirt pocket for his cigarettes. “Caitlyn and I already discussed it. I don’t think she should talk to the police without representation, but let’s not all act as if she’s a suspect.” He found his lighter and clicked it several times until he was finally able to light up. “Okay?” he asked her as he exhaled.

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