Page 63 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

“Then you’ve got your killer, don’t you? No one could be any more scorned than Caitlyn. It’s pathetic really. Kind of sad.”

“You really think she was capable of killing Josh?” Reed asked.

“I don’t know what she’s capable of. But I think she’s just off enough that she might, okay? And don’t ask me about proof, cuz I don’t have any, but she’s . . . freaky.”

Naomi adjusted her purse strap as Reed stood and pocketed his notes. “If you think of anything else”—he handed Naomi his business card—“call me.”

With a don’t-hold-your-breath smile, she dropped the card into her purse.

Morrisette snapped off her recorder and they all walked outside. The afternoon was even hotter than before. Steamy. The air so thick it clung to your skin. Reed was already sweating as he climbed behind the wheel. Naomi took the time to lock the house, then slid behind the wheel of her Jag. She flipped a pair of sunglasses over her eyes, started the sleek car, and took off in a roar, barely braking as she entered the street. Her tires actually chirped at the corner and she had to be ten miles over the speed limit within a block.

“Arrogant bitch.” Morrisette stared after the rapidly fleeing car. “And don’t even say it, okay? I get one free swear word a day and this is it. What’s she doing? Forty? Fifty in a twenty-five? It’s almost as if she’s begging for us to pull her over, a real in-your-lousy-cop-face attitude.”

“That’s something coming from you, Andretti.”

Reed put the cruiser into gear and pulled away from the shady curb.

“I’m not just talkin’ about her driving. It was her entire holier-than-thou, or at least smarter-than-thou attitude. It sucked.”

“That it did,” Reed admitted as he headed out of town.

“I’d love to bring her down a notch or two.”

“Wouldn’t we all, but before that you’d better level with me about Bandeaux. If you were involved with him, I need to know it and toss you off this case. We can’t taint it. Can’t give a defense attorney any reason to throw this case out.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, popping her gum as she found her lighter. “I told you I wasn’t involved with him, not personally.”

“And if I find out differently?”

“You won’t.”

“I hope you’re not lying to me,” he said as he cut across town. “I assume you’re too good a cop for that.”

“You assume right.”

“I’d hate to have to tell the D.A. that we fucked up because one of the detectives on the case was involved with the deceased.”

“Just drive,” she muttered, lighting up and pushing her sunglasses over her eyes in one motion. “And quit hassling me. We’ll both live a lot longer.”

Caitlyn slid her car into the garage and told herself she could not, could not fall for her shrink. That was crazy. Nuts! Exactly the reasons she’d gone to him to begin with. She walked into the house and greeted Oscar, stooping down to pet him for a second before checking her

messages and deleting them one by one. Not a peep from Kelly.

“The suddenly silent twin,” she muttered to herself as she started for the stairs and stopped in the foyer. Something felt wrong . . . a little off. A scent. Someone’s perfume?

Or was she imagining it?

On edge and telling herself that she was losing her grip, she walked up the stairs and into the den. Everything was as it should be . . . or was it? She always pushed her computer mouse to the side of her monitor and today it was in front, a few inches out of place.

Or had she, distracted these past few days, left it where it was?

“Odd,” she whispered and clicked on her e-mail.

At last a message from Kelly.

Caitlyn sat in the desk chair and opened the letter. It was short.

Sorry I haven’t reached you. Been out of town. Work, work, work! Wish I could say I was sorry about Josh, but really, Caitie-Did, we both know he was a prick. Good riddancé. Hope this doesn’t offend. xoxo, Kelly.

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