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“Not a problem. Call if you have any other questions. I’ll be here.”
“Will do.” Amanda ended the call and filled Trent in on her conversation with Celeste.
“Sounds like whatever Felicity was working on took a lot of her focus.”
“Or obsession,” Amanda countered. “But not just that, why all the secrecy? She’d talk her plots out with her friend in the past. What if Felicity poked around a cold case and got close to the real killer?”
“I was thinking the same.”
“Yep. Justine’s armchair detective and Felicity picking real-life cases causes me concern.”
“But without knowing what she was working on, we’re nowhere on that front.”
“Nope. And Celeste never heard of Kristopher.”
“Which I’d gathered from the thumbs down. But it doesn’t mean that Navarro didn’t know about Kristopher.”
“In agreement there.” Amanda exchanged her phone for Felicity’s and looked at her message history, specifically interested in the thread in which she communicated with Kristopher Black. “Huh. So, there are texts between Felicity and Kristopher, but they only go back three weeks.”
“Did someone delete the previous ones? Navarro? He told us how to access Felicity’s phone.”
“And they did break up around three weeks ago. If he deleted previous texts, he was aware of the relationship Felicity had going with Black.”
“More motive. He’s cheating but not about to tolerate being cheated on.”
She pointed at the speedometer. “Can’t you go any faster?”
“Only if you want me to risk getting a ticket.”
“Let’s try our luck.”
“All right, if you say so.” The car surged ahead, and Amanda gladly watched the world go by in swatches of color. It was time for Luis Navarro to come clean with them.
TWENTY-ONE
There was no way either of them could have spotted that cop with the radar gun until it was too late. He’d been perched on a bridge, hunched down.
“I told you,” Trent said to Amanda as they walked to their desks at Central.
Amanda had a feeling she’d never hear the end of it. “I’ll cover it.”
“The least you can do.” He handed her the ticket.
She’d look at the hundred bucks as a necessary expenditure to move things along. “I’ll get Navarro pulled from holding and brought to an interview room. You want to pull up his background for us?”
“No problem.”
They entered their respective cubicles and got to work. She called the officer in charge of the holding cells, and Trent tapped away on his keyboard.
The officer managing the desk groaned. “That guy.”
“What about him?”
“I’ll be happy to hand him over to you. He’s a broken record, going on about his innocence. I told him I’ve heard it all before. Had to start tuning him out. Give me ten minutes to get him to Interview Room One. He’s not working with a lawyer that I’m aware of.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” She ended the call and joined Trent in his office space.
“Just getting it up now,” he said.
