Page 124 of Last Girl Standing

Amanda came back from her run and drank a full glass of water. She thought she heard something and cocked her head. Something outside, by the garage? She walked out to the back patio and looked to her garage. Nothing. She heard a mower, far away, and scoured the distant fields from west to east. The clouds had burned off completely, and the sky was high and blue. She closed her eyes and drank in the sense of purity that open spaces gave her, fighting the depression that hovered in the corners of her mind ever since she’d heard about Zora.

After a few moments, she went back inside and up the stairs to take a shower and clean up. She wasn’t going back to the office today, or maybe any day. Hal didn’t want her there. She didn’t want to be there.

And she had his client list on a sheaf of papers that she’d managed to print out when he wasn’t around. She would have preferred the file, but she could input them into her own contact list when she had time, which she did right now, as a matter of fact.

She took her laptop to the dining room table, along with the file containing Hal’s clients. She sat down and, with her Pilot pen, started making notes to herself, first on paper, then to be inputted in the computer. She made herself an itinerary. She needed to meet with McCrae or Quin and get a feel for what the police had on Delta. She knew a lot of the county prosecutors; one of them would be assigned to Tanner’s homicide case. Whether they would go after Delta or not was anyone’s guess at this point. Delta felt that McCrae was sympathetic, but that only meant so much.

And there was the issue of the knife . . .

Curiously, she believed Delta on that one. She’d panicked. But it looked bad, and could to a jury, if the case went to trial. More problematic was the book she’d written, which apparently was making a small fortune and showed no signs of stopping as the story of Tanner’s murder spread across the Internet. Delta hadn’t mentioned her increase in book sales, but maybe she felt like the information was already readily available.

Amanda snorted. Hal had accused her of taking hard-luck cases. Maybe not so with Delta.

* * *

Ellie took a good, long shower. He hadn’t really touched her. Just made her strip, which she’d done, excruciatingly slowly. He’d wanted it that way, and well, she’d been counting the minutes till McCrae got the message, her mind whirling as she’d worried he might not act in time or maybe at all.

But like the hero he was, he’d shown up, and Crassley had shoved her into the closet and locked the door. Had he really thought she’d keep quiet? Maybe he’d believed he could keep McCrae out of hearing range.

Whatever. She still felt dirty. Kind of scared and kind of exhilarated. And mad. She truly wanted to kill him. Would, if she could without facing the consequences. She could have kicked him to death.

Her cell was ringing as she toweled her hair dry. She swept it up from her dresser and saw it was McCrae. “Hi,” she answered shortly.

“Crassley’s in county. Already got a lawyer. Seems to have one at the ready, and not a public defender. I’m heading back to the station now.”

Ellie said, “Thieving must be profitable.”

“You doing all right?”

“You keep asking. I’m fine. I have murder in my heart, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“Don’t do anything rash.”

“Oh, like go out to the Crassleys and torch their property and all those fucking cars? And the dogs?”

“The dogs aren’t part of it.”

“I know, McCrae,” she said wearily. “But excuse me if I want some payback. It’s been a helluva day.”

“What did you mean about ‘a job’?”

“What?” she asked, deliberately misinterpreting.

“You said ‘Nia said it was a job.’ What was a job?”

Should she tell him? A part of her wanted to keep that nugget to herself, in case it was true.

But you’re not even a reporter, right now . . . and he saved you . . .

“We had a fight, Nia and I. Long story, but it’s why I went to the Crassleys. I thought I could . . . interview Gale. That was erroneous, as you know. There’s no interviewing a Crassley. Nia was talking about Penske. She said he was on ‘a job.’ She was dating him off and on around that time. You know they’d hooked up while she was still in high school.”

“I heard that rumor,” he agreed.

“She said, ‘He didn’t want to be with her. It was a job.’ I took it to mean that Penske didn’t want to be with Bailey, that it was a job.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it?”

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