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“Yet, here we are.”
“Is that a confession?” she countered.
“Hell no, I didn’t kill her. Never raised a hand to her.”
“You never did give us a satisfactory alibi. Nothing we can verify,” Trent pushed out.
Luis worried his bottom lip.
Amanda bounced on his obvious discomfort. “You lied to us. You weren’t home for most of the day and didn’t slip out for a burger. Where were you? I wouldn’t suggest you make me ask again.”
“Courtney’s place.”
“Who is Courtney?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“I’m not proud of this, but—”
“Don’t tell us she’s your sister,” Trent cut in. “And don’t lie to us and say you’re not proud. Your stripes give you away as a player.”
“Fine. It’s who I am. Can’t a man be himself?”
“Sure. Nothing wrong with that.” Amanda’s insides were churning acid. Luis Navarro was a dirtbag, but was he a killer? “How long were you there?”
“From six until eleven.”
Another question was why had Kaitlyn lied to protect this guy? Was she trying to save face? “We’re going to need Courtney’s information to verify what you’re telling us.”
“If it gets me out of here.” Luis prattled off a phone number. “We never got around to last names.”
Of course you didn’t…
Amanda and Trent stood to leave.
“Wait,” Luis called out. “I can go, right?”
“Not until we’ve had a chat with Courtney What’s-Her-Name,” Amanda said. Out in the hall, she told a uniformed officer to escort Luis Navarro back to the holding cells.
“This guy has more women than a Saudi prince has in his harem.”
“Do I sense jealousy?” Amanda shot him a side-glance.
“Not in the least. I’m a one-woman man and prefer a meaningful relationship.”
“Huh.” She wished she hadn’t uttered a sound, but there it was… And did she tell him she had a feeling he was still hung up on her? How egotistical would that come across? And her mind might be more the issue than his.
“Don’t tell me that surprises you.”
She sensed he was slightly offended that she might think he was into recreational dating. “Not really,” she backpedaled.
He didn’t say anything more, but an awkward tension lay in the silence. Again, it might just be her feeling it. Either way, there were more important areas to focus on—primarily finding Felicity’s killer. And one step toward that goal was meeting up with Rideout for the autopsy—which he would be starting within the hour.
TWENTY-THREE
Amanda called Courtney’s number but had to leave a message, which was unfortunate for Luis Navarro. Until they had his alibi sealed up, or their time for holding him without charges timed out, he was a guest of the county. She brought Malone quickly up to speed on the interview before leaving Central.
On the way to Manassas for the autopsy, Amanda checked Felicity’s phone. No hateful or inappropriate comments or messages on her social accounts, just a boatload of sympathies. Even with all they’d checked off their list today, she and Trent were walking into the morgue at about four—an hour after Rideout would have gotten started on the body.
“Just when I didn’t think you were going to show.” Rideout was wearing a white jacket, scalpel held midair, protective shield in place over his face. He must have been about ready to cut the Y-incision.
