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“Usually it was when we talked about her life in New York. I surmised it had to do with her work there as a cop.”
May’s words presented a valid avenue to pursue. They might be looking at someone Katherine had a hand in putting away. Could fear of retaliation be what shadowed her expression? While her stint with the PWCPD had been brief, and as a sergeant, it was still possible she’d upset someone locally. But given what May had just said, it sounded as if Katherine was triggered when talking about her old life. “Did she speak much of her time with the New York City Police Department?”
“Some, yes. But she’d become guarded about it too.”
Again, this struck Amanda. Something about Katherine’s time with the NYPD still haunted her.
May continued. “She liked the excitement and chaos of the big city, of being needed and in demand. But as I said, there was a change in her when we’d discuss it too much. She never told me why she’d left, and I was never bold enough to bring it up. Something else I should have pushed on, but I assumed it had to do with grief over losing her mother.”
Amanda had been given a glimpse at Katherine’s past because of a newspaper article published last June in the local paper, Prince William Times. What she didn’t gather from there, Katherine ended up divulging. The short of it was her stepfather had killed her mother after years of abuse. He was put away for the crime, but it was a small price to pay in recompense. Katherine had been quite upset that her past was made public, but was it due to her privacy being violated, or did she have a larger concern? Was it linked to whatever caused her eyes to go dark when on the topic of her time with the NYPD? “Did she leave soon after her mother’s murder?” Amanda asked.
“Within the year. The trial happened quickly and ended just as fast.”
If Katherine feared for her well-being in NYC, with her mother gone she might not have had anyone else keeping her there. Amanda was about to inquire about Katherine’s friends and lovers when Trent spoke.
“Ms. Byrd—” he began.
“Oh, please, child, just call me May.” She pressed her lips in a tight smile.
“May, did Katherine ever mention any specific cases she worked on when she was in New York?” Trent asked.
The older woman shook her head. “I didn’t figure she wanted to get into any of them with me.”
“What about friends she had there?” If they could get names, Katherine may have confided in them about particularly troublesome investigations.
“She’s mentioned the name Tasha Bauer, though I suppose her given name would be Natasha. My Kat isn’t a highly sociable person. She’s focused, ambitious. Heck, she’s turned my diner into the most popular place to stop for coffee in the entire state. Or at least it feels that way.” A small, tight smile. “She’s more work than play.”
“I think she has a hard time letting people in,” Amanda offered.
“Oh, yeah.” The jovial expression caved in on itself as May’s face pinched with a blend of guilt and sadness. “I spoke you up often, Mandy, said that you have a lot in common with both being cops, but she’d smile and say you were nice but leave it there. Why, I don’t know. She doesn’t have friends her own age here in the area, but she joins me sometimes for book club.”
A group that viewed reading as fourth on a list of importance, following wine, cheese, and gossip. “Was she close with any of the members?”
“Nah. Most of them are my age.”
May’s age was something she kept from most people, but Amanda knew she was sixty-one. Katherine was forty-seven, but relatively speaking the generational gap wasn’t humungous.
“I think it’s sad she doesn’t have any friends in the area. When I get on her, she just says how great it is we’re in each other’s lives again. She’s caught up in the fact I’m her closest living blood relative. She has my daughter, Hannah, too of course. Kat’s cousin, but her mother’s murder really hit her hard.”
Hannah was May’s only daughter, and the diner’s namesake. She was a successful defense attorney who lived in Washington, DC. But Amanda could understand why the death of Katherine’s mother would have deeply wounded her. The hardest part of the job was delivering the news to loved ones. And once the killer was arrested and put away, her involvement ended. For those left to grieve the victims, their story was just getting started. When murder was the manner of death, there must be a lot of rage. Was that what prevented Katherine from putting down personal roots? She’d been in Prince William County for a year and a half. Or was it something more menacing? Was she keeping people at a distance to protect them or herself?
NINE
Amanda gave more thought to Katherine’s isolated and insular existence. She’d made a conscious choice to stick to herself. The closest thing she did to building a life here was getting involved with the diner. Was it because she wanted the freedom to run, or even needed it? But surely, she needed to have a semblance of a social life. Did she keep in regular contact with her friends in NYC and that was enough for her? “Do you know how close Katherine and Natasha were?”
“Close, for sure. They met at university and despite Kat’s move here, they still talk.”
“And what does Natasha do for work?” Trent asked.
“She’s an assistant district attorney in New York.”
That was a promising connection. It was feasible the two would have worked cases together. Natasha might know of one that weighed heavily on Katherine. Though Amanda found it hard to accept that Katherine would make herself vulnerable by confiding her emotions to others. Best friend or not. “You wouldn’t happen to have a number for Natasha, would you?”
“I don’t. I encouraged Kat to invite her down, but I think Tasha’s life is quite busy.”
As an assistant district attorney in one of the largest cities in the United States, Amanda could believe that. While this Natasha might be a good place to start for insight into Katherine’s personal life, there was also another. “May, would you happen to have a key to her place? It could help to have a look around.”
“I do.” With that May hoisted herself up from the booth, and she moved slowly as if every joint in her body were stiff. Maybe she rarely sat still because it was hard to get going again.
