She broke eye contact with him and plucked at the corner of the pillow she was holding. “No one will verify it.”
“Why’d you call Kane later?”
“To tell him I wouldn’t be at the studio if he showed up.”
“Why? You knew he wasn’t at Bullseye like he said he’d be.”
“I thought maybe he was in-between and I’d just missed him. It was raining so hard I could have driven right past him and not noticed. Anyway, I got no answer.”
“And that’s all?” He got up and walked over to her, tipped her chin up with his forefinger so she was looking at him. “Are you sure?”
She pulled her face away.
He watched her for a moment before rubbing his hand across his face. “It feels like you haven’t told me the whole story. Like you don’t trust me.”
“I do trust Sam Richardson, the man I … the man I’m involved with. But I’m not sure I feel the same about Detective Richardson, the one who’d have to tell his partner what I said. But I swear to you, I didn’t do anything wrong at Bullseye that night.”
“Well, both Sam Richardson and Detective Richardson are happy to hear that, Amanda.” He shook his head. “But, for future reference, it’s a package deal. I can’t be split in two.” He went to the hall, grabbed his jacket, and went out the front door.
She sat on the couch, her head back, unable to move. When her phone indicated an incoming text message, it startled her. She pulled it from her pocket, looking to see if it was Sam apologizing for walking out.
It wasn’t. She stared at the message, rereading it again and again. Chihuly jumped up on the couch beside her, licked her face and whined a little, demanding attention. Absentmindedly she gave him a pat or two. “I can’t let anything happen to him, can I, boy? Not after what he’s done for me.” She stood up and walked her dog to the kitchen door. “I have what this guy wants. I’ll just give it to him.”
• • •
Sam pounded on the steering wheel of his truck as he waited for the light to change. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or frustrated, or both. Every cop instinct he had said she wasn’t telling him the truth. But he had no idea what she was lying about. Nor did he know where to start to find out.
When he got home, he tried calling her, to apologize for the way he left but he got voice mail. She wasn’t picking up, apparently didn’t want to talk to him. He left a message saying he was sorry and would apologize in person when they had dinner the following night.
But apologizing was only part of why he wanted to talk to her again. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. Fast. He had a bad feeling about this. A feeling she was in danger.
Chapter Eleven
By the next morning Amanda had a plan. Although she didn’t know the name of the guy who’d contacted her, she now understood what he was after. He’d referred to it in the text he’d sent and it was obvious from what she found in her studio the morning after the murders. In the letter from Tom Webster, her late boyfriend had denied stealing money from his partners, saying Amanda had taken it from his apartment and he thought she’d hidden it in a “safe” place. That was what the intruders had been looking for in her house — a safe full of money.
She didn’t know where the mythical safe was or how much this guy thought she’d stolen. But she could get money from her trust funds to bribe him. If he had the money, he’d leave her alone.