Page 54 of Last Seen Alive
“The killer wanted it to look like Claire was responsible for whatever happened in the past. If it only has her prints on it, for example, we wouldn’t even question that, as it was in her purse. Say there is a cold case out there, it would appear closed too.”
“I’m curious to see what ballistics come back with. If it is linked to an old case, the killer could have planted Claire’s prints on the Glock, like he or she might have on Logan’s.”
“Let’s talk this out then. The killer found out Claire had the gunandwas back in town—both of which we don’t know the how of yet. And let’s say Logan’s ‘accident’ in Nebraska was nothing of the sort—which I don’t think it was.”
Trent shook his head. “Rita’s neither. And she kept some things from her husband, such as her history with Claire. I think it’s likely whatever got Claire killed ended up getting Rita murdered as well. Along the lines we thought before: the accident wasn’t an accident. Must be one hell of a secret they’ve been carrying around all these years.”
“But we circle back. How does the gun Claire had end up getting Rita killed—if that’s what happened? Did this hypothetical partner think Claire gave the gun to Rita? Had she held on to it for a while before it wound up in Claire’s purse?”
“The husband said Rita and Claire hadn’t talked in years, so when would the possible handover have taken place?”
“We’ll need to figure out if it even did. I’d like to know if Claire told Rita of her plans to go to the police. And I know I said I would give the lab until tomorrow on the ballistics results, but we need answers yesterday.” She pulled her phone, just as it rang. Too much to hope it was the lab with the results, like some sort of telepathic link. The caller ID told her it was someone else. She answered, “Logan?”
“I was just at Claire’s estate lawyer’s.”
“I’m putting you on speaker. Trent’s here.” She did just that. “You were at her estate lawyer’s? How did they even know that—”
“Michelle told them that Claire was dead.”
“Usually they require a death certificate before saying anything,” Amanda said.
“Which Michelle got from a Hans Rideout.”
Amanda hadn’t even heard that Michelle had positively identified Claire at the morgue yet. “Okay, so what happened with the lawyer?”
“He called me there, said Claire left something for me.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Yes and no. I mean I got a key and a note. It belongs to a safe deposit box in Woodbridge at a place called Locked Up Tight. Number seventeen-thirty.”
A key…There was a small brass one in Claire’s purse along with the hotel key card. Was it for the box too? They hadn’t gotten that far. Amanda’s pulse was racing. Maybe this development would give them all the answers they needed. Was it too much to hope that Claire left a letter saying that if she was murdered, so-and-so did it? “Did you go there? See what’s in it?”
“I haven’t yet. I was hoping that you would come with me.”
“What did the note say?” Trent asked.
“Just that once I got to the box, there would be a letter inside explaining why she had to leave and everything else.”
She did a quick estimate based on how close they were to the police station and considered the drive to Dumfries. “I’ll be by to pick you up at the Maxwells’ in twenty minutes.”
She ended the call as Trent pulled into the station’s parking lot. “You want to follow up on the ballistics while I go see Logan? Also watch some video, with your eye on the times the clerk thought Claire took a taxi. Maybe we can find out if Rita and Claire were in recent contact, despite what the husband told us.”
“Can do. I’ll also swing back to the hotel and see if they recognize Rita. I know the clerk said he didn’t remember visitors, but I doubt he works twenty-four seven. Rita could have gone there.”
“Sounds like it’s worth a try.”
“All right, then.” He stopped the department car to let her out, then left.
She hustled to her Honda Civic, wanting to get to Logan—and that safe deposit box—as soon as possible. She had one leg in her car when she heard her name.
“Detective Steele.” It was Sergeant Graves.
Amanda stood next to her vehicle and faced the woman. “Good day, Sergeant.”
“Haven’t heard from you since this morning.” She thumbed her key fob, and the lights flicked on a Mercedes sedan. She must have made good money with the NYPD because someone on a sergeant’s salary in Prince William County wasn’t driving one. “What’s going on with the case?”
Amanda filled her in.
