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“I’d watch her through the patio door or her kitchen window. You probably won’t understand.”
“Try us,” Trent tossed out nonchalantly.
“She was amazing. Beautiful. Talented. But she never saw it. She was so down-to-earth.” His eyes flicked to meet Amanda’s. “I swear I never hurt her.”
“All right, and that’s where you were Tuesday night? In Felicity Kelley’s backyard, looking through her windows?” Amanda asked.
“For a bit, yeah.”
Now that Sheldon had gotten past the initial admission, he seemed to have gotten over his fear of speaking freely. Good for us… “For how long and when exactly?” she asked.
“I hung around from eight until ten thirty, but I didn’t see anything. Her curtains were closed.”
“And they usually aren’t?” Amanda asked.
“No.”
If Sheldon was telling the truth, then he was unlikely Felicity’s killer. At the early end of the TOD window, that only left half an hour to burn all her books and set the scene. But, again, that was hinging everything on the word of a stalker. She wasn’t in the mood to extend him a pass. As for the curtains, they could ask the CSIs about the ones in the back of the house. If Sheldon wasn’t the killer, the man who was may have closed them at some point in the evening. Felicity could have too, for that matter, even if out of character. But the drapes in the front living room window were open. “Here’s the thing, Mr. Lowe, what you’re telling us doesn’t completely rule you out for her murder.”
Sheldon paled. “I swear, I didn’t hurt her!”
“As you keep telling us,” Amanda said. “Did you love her, Mr. Lowe?”
He remained quiet.
“Mr. Lowe,” she prompted.
“Yeah, sure, but it’s not what you think.”
“And what’s that?” she volleyed back.
“That she rejected me and I got revenge.”
“Did she did reject you?” Amanda latched right on to that aspect of his statement.
“I asked her out once, she turned me down, and that was that.”
“That must have hurt.” Amanda’s intention was to hook an emotional reaction. Sheldon gave her nothing.
“It just was.”
His response left her questioning if he really was laid-back about her rejection, especially considering how much support he gave her. “It doesn’t sound like she valued you.”
“Most people misunderstand me. Been an issue all my life.” He pushed his glasses up his nose again.
“Did Felicity find fault with your big book idea?” It had to be asked.
He met her eyes. “No, she was very encouraging.”
Given his steadfast eye contact, Amanda believed him on this point. She circled back to his earlier comment. “Why did you leave at ten thirty?” Effective interrogation often involved a little back and forth, a whisper of trust then a withdrawal. It kept the suspect guessing where they stood and served to rattle some into confessing their crimes.
“I got a call from my mom. She needed me.”
Trent leaned forward. “For what?”
“She was trying to get her new computer set up.”
“Rather late at night to be doing that,” she said, and it earned her a glare.
