Page 82 of The Night Before (Savannah 1)

“Then who did?” Reed asked.

“I don’t know. That’s what worries me.”

“You have anyone over to your house lately?”

“No . . . well, not really.”

“What do you mean not really?” Morrisette countered. “Either someone was there or not.”

“What I mean is no one I don’t trust. My brother, Troy, and my sisters Caitlyn and Hannah have each been over . . . and my friend, Elisa.”

“How about since the time you last drove the car. When was that?”

“Two . . . no, more like two-and-a-half weeks ago. I had to go pick up some paperwork I’d left at the office, so I drove into town, then came directly home.”

“So who’s been to your house since?”

Amanda scowled. “I don’t know. Some friends, neighbors, workmen. I had some maintenance done on my air conditioner and a chimney sweep come to clean out the flues.”

“Did they go into the garage where your Triumph was parked?”

“I suppose so. I don’t really know.”

Reed said, “It would be helpful if you made a list of everywhere the car has been and the names of everyone who had access to your garage over the last two-and-a-half weeks. I’d also like copies of the last couple of invoices from the shop who did the work on your car, including if you went to one of those quickie lube places.”

“I’ll get those for you.”

“Good.” Reed and Morrisette asked more questions, and she gave a rundown of the events leading up to the accident, how the brakes had failed.

Amanda gave them a list of names of the people who regularly worked for her—the lawn service, the maid, the neighbor next door who had a key to the house—and promised to get the other information they’d requested, but she wasn’t satisfied. “You know, I’d check out Cricket Biscayne if I were you.”

“She called 911 for you.”

“So I heard, but I’m sure you already know that there’s a lot of bad blood between my family and hers.”

“The way I hear it, you’re all part of one big extended family.”

Amanda bristled. “That’s not how I see it, and it seems pretty damned coincidental that she’s the person who sees me lose control of the car. You know the Biscaynes are white trash, and I don’t care if that’s not PC or that my grandfather was involved with their grandmother. They’re just a bunch of lowlifes with their hands out. It wasn’t just a lucky set of circumstances that Cricket was following me.”

When the interview was over, Amanda left a business card with her home and office numbers printed on it. “You can reach me at either number,” she said as Reed clicked off his recorder and she, wincing, slung the strap of her purse over one shoulder. “I’ll fax you the invoices you wanted along with a list of the people who work for me, or who have been to the house and seen the car, with their addresses and phone numbers.”

“I’ll look for it,” Reed assured her. The lady was nothing if not efficient.

“Good.” She started for the door but hesitated. “Thanks,” she added, as if it was an afterthought, then left, sweeping out the door and through the cubicles.

“She gives new meaning to the word bitch,” Morrisette observed, not seeming to care if Amanda Drummond was out of earshot. “Jesus, did she climb all over us or what?” Morrisette glared through the open door. “You know what? She just about made me want to turn coat.”

Reed raised an eyebrow.

“After that, I’m thinking of joining the other team. Anyone who’s trying to get rid of her is my kind of guy.”

“Or gal,” he thought aloud. “She said her sisters had been over.”

“Oh, wait a minute. I see where this is going. You think Caitlyn Bandeaux slid under the Triumph and snipped the brake lines? Are you nuts? Have you ever seen one of those cars? They’re just a few inches off the ground, and I don’t think Mrs. Bandeaux is the mechanical type. Whoever did this would have to know what he—or she—was doing. Nah, Reed, you’re way off base with this one.”

Reed wasn’t convinced. “I want what’s left of the car dusted for prints, and we need to see the area where it was parked. Check and see if any brake fluid had dripped onto the garage floor or anywhere else she may have parked it, and as I told her, I want to see the mechanic’s records.”

“Anything else?”

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