On Tuesday morning, Amanda headed for her desk, but Sergeant Graves accosted her in the hallway. She asked that Amanda follow her to her office and bring her up to speed. Amanda obliged even though Graves would know most of it already. When she’d finished speaking, Graves stared at her blankly.
“That’s all?” she said.
“I think that Trent and I made a lot of progress on the case for our first day. Sure, there are more unanswered questions, but that’s par for the course. Evidence is telling me that Logan isn’t guilty.”Just one little nudge…
“Huh. I’m not sure it’s saying that to me. She was in his house. Even if she let herself in with this key you mentioned, how did she know about it if she hadn’t been in previous contact with Logan?”
Amanda smirked, turned away from the woman. She was exasperating and fixated. Her entire world must have been black and white with no allowance for shades of gray. “Claire was married to Logan for two-and-a-half years before she left him. In that time, I would assume they had a hide-a-key where they lived.”
“An assumption,” Graves served back, seemingly unable to see the irony as she was doing the same thing about Logan’s guilt.
“I’ll ask Logan if they used this fake rock when they were together.”
“Be sure to do that. And this lamp… keep me posted on what the lab finds there too.”
“Will do.”
“Dismissed.” Graves waved her hand, and Amanda shuffled to her feet, not wasting any time.
She called Logan as she walked to her desk. She had been wanting to allow him some time this morning to sleep, not sure whether he would have gotten much.
“Amanda? Tell me you know who killed her.”
“There’s a lot that Trent and I are finding out about Claire, but even more remains a mystery.”
There was a groan followed by, “Mystery should have been her first name.”
“Do you keep a key stored in a hideaway spot? Sometimes they are a little magnetic case that sticks to air conditioners, but they come in different forms.” She wanted to make sure she asked without leading him.
“I sure do. You lock yourself out of your house once, you do what you can to ensure that it never happens again.”
“So even when you were married to Claire?” She reached her cubicle and sat at her desk. Trent was at his, and she waved in greeting.
“Yes. She’s the one who bought us a hide-a-key thingy.”
“The one you still use?”
“Ah, yeah. I assume you found it—a fake rock about six inches by eight. There’s an opening on the bottom. Why are you asking me about this?”
Claire had bought it. No questioning how Claire would know where to find the house key then. She probably spotted it in the garden bed and helped herself. “I can’t answer that, but I have another question for you. Were you in the process of buying another shade for the lamp on your nightstand?”
“No. Seems a strange question to ask.”
Adrenaline rushed through her. The theory she’d tossed around with Trent was likely exactly what had happened. Claire attacked her killer with the lamp, and that person took the shade with them.
“Mandy? Why are you asking me these things?”
“Again, I can’t tell you. One more question for now. We found where Claire was staying, and there was a safe. There was at least twenty thousand dollars in cash in there. Do you have any idea why she’d have that kind of money?”
“Nope. I apparently knew nothing about my wife.” There was pain laced with anger at his admission.
“Sorry, Logan.”
“All the lies and secrets… hard to get my head around.”
“You doing all right, though? Where are you staying?”
“With Michelle and her husband. They told me they know Trent. Good friends with him apparently.”