Page 15 of Last Seen Alive
“Hello.”
Logan returned to the table where he’d been sitting when Amanda arrived, and she sat across from him. She wanted to claim some independent space to help her stay objective. Though at the rate the investigation was progressing, she felt she was the only one with any interest in doing so.
“Tell me what they’re saying,” Amanda said to Peter.
“They’ve laid charges of murder in the third degree.”
“I didn’t do this, Mandy, I swear I didn’t.” Logan’s eyes were wide and wet.
She wanted to tell him she knew that, but she couldn’t. Not just yet. “What’s the evidence against him?” She put the question to the lawyer.
“His gun, which they believe is the murder weapon, but it’s loose at best.”
Amanda nodded. “Yes, I get that. Autopsy has yet to take place, as has ballistics testing.”
“That’s right. They don’t know for certain that Logan’s gun was used to kill her.”
“I’m sure you can fight that.”
“Oh, I will be. As you know we’ll appear before a judge, but given that it’s Saturday, not until Monday.”
“I have to stay here, locked up, until then?” Logan’s eyes widened.
Her heart ached for him. Until he saw a judge, a holding cell was his destination. Even the lab would be delayed processing the ballistics with it being the weekend. The timing of this was utter crap for Logan—and the integrity of the investigation. Assuming Logan wasn’t the killer, that person was out there running around free and clear. “I understand there were two guns found. Logan’s and one in the victim’s purse.” She assumed that this had been shared with him and his attorney already and didn’t think she was crossing any line.
“That’s right.”
“And both nine mil, making either a possible match to the round in her chest?”
Logan sniffled, and Amanda realized how hard it must be for him to hear her talk about his wife’s death so bluntly.
“Not just the same caliber, but the same ammo,” Peter said.
Amanda inched forward on her chair. If things didn’t sound off before, they certainly did now. What were the chances both guns were loaded with the same bullets? At least they were different makes and models. Once they retrieved fragments from the body, ballistics testing should be able to confirm which weapon was a match. Still, there had to be a message in two guns found on scene with the same ammo. When she didn’t speak, Peter spoke again.
“The ammo was Logan’s too.”
What the hell?
“I’m guessing they aren’t sharing much with you?”
“I’m pretty much in the dark. Do you know time of death?”
“Initial findings peg it between the hours of six and nine PM yesterday.”
Amanda looked at Logan. It had been after nine when they’d run into each other at the bar and about ten when they’d arrived at his house. She looked at Logan. “And you don’t have an alibi? I was told that,” she added.
“I was at home getting ready to go out around six. By the time I had a shower and a bite to eat it was seven thirty.”
Her stomach knotted into concrete. That meant whoever had killed Claire, running with the assumption it wasn’t Logan, did it between seven thirty and nine. “Where did you go at seven thirty? Anywhere someone could verify?”
“I drove around until about nine—sometimes I do that to clear my mind—and ended up at the bar. That’s when we bumped into each other.”
“You see how that doesn’t look good?” Peter said.
She leaned back in her chair. Logan was up the proverbial creek. “Okay, we’ll figure something out.”
“I didn’t kill her. You do believe me?”
