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And there’s the hostility… But could she blame his sharp reaction? He’d seen through her veiled inquiry after his well-being. Too much time had passed for it to be genuine. “Very well. One of your past cases—”
Dennis groaned loudly. “Don’t tell me that you’re doing this again. My conscience is clear, Steele, so whatever it is, check with evidence lockup.”
“Wait!” She imagined he had already pulled his phone back, preparing to hang up on her.
“What?”
“It’s a case from fifteen years ago. A home robbery where a twenty-one-year-old woman was murdered.”
“What about it?”
The quick turnaround in his attitude had her speechless for a moment. She had expected he’d repeat his directive to pull the evidence files and leave him out of it. “The victim was—”
“Naomi Chapman. Shot three times in the chest, and she was found by her maid the next morning. Ruled a fatal armed robbery.”
The picture forming of Naomi Chapman was unfolding. She was a wealthy young adult, who lived alone in a house, had graduated from Harvard, and apparently had a maid. Money hadn’t been an issue. “You remember all this after fifteen years?”
“Don’t make anything of it.”
It was hard not to. She wouldn’t be able to provide all this about a past case on instant recall unless she’d recently re-familiarized herself with it. With Dennis, she’d have to watch how she played this—a frontal attack wouldn’t be effective. “Have you heard of Felicity Kelley?”
“Yes. What about her?”
“She was murdered three days ago in her home.”
“She was— What?” The question was hurled out several decibels louder than the rest of his words.
“It’s been in the news.”
“I do my best to avoid it.”
“She was killed in her home. Cause of death was blunt-force trauma, not gunshot wounds. Nothing to indicate it was a robbery or home invasion either.”
“I’m still stuck on what you said. She was murdered?” His reaction was one of shock, as if he were trying to make sense of her death. That typically happened when a person knew the deceased.
Tingles danced on Amanda’s arms. “You knew her.”
“I did. Felicity came around asking questions about the Chapman case. Though it was a long time ago… I’d say a year and a half ago even.”
There was her confirmation. Felicity’s inspiration had come from the Chapman case. The question remained, did her poking around lead to her murder? But there was a dark cloud over the revelation that Dennis had spoken with Felicity. If he hadn’t, would she still be alive? “Let me get this straight, you briefed a civilian on a police investigation?”
“A cold case. And I didn’t reveal sensitive information.”
“Jeez, Cud.” She snapped her mouth shut and closed her eyes.
“Not Cud, to you or anyone. I gave up chewing gum. The dentist told me it was cracking my back molars.”
She didn’t know whether to find the personal offering amusing or surprising. Honestly, it was a blend of both. But it told her his walls were coming down. He was probably feeling guilty. “What did you tell Felicity? What questions specifically did she ask?”
“We had a number of conversations.”
“You had a number—” She clenched her jaw. Being judgmental wouldn’t get her anywhere. And they needed to find out exactly what Felicity knew.
“I’m going to overlook your attitude and talk to you on two conditions.”
“What?”
“One, the judgment stops.”
