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“Are you in a hurry, Mr.Evans?”
His posture shrank, and he shook his head.
“It will take the time it takes. That’s all you need to know, but the officers here will watch over you. If you need water or anything, just let them know.”
Marty nodded, and Amanda made a stop to inform Officer Wyatt that Marty Evans had arrived and what little conversation they’d had.
“Not a problem,” Wyatt said. “I’ll keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
“Thank you. Also, the owner should be arriving shortly. I’m not sure if I mentioned that in so many words.”
“You didn’t, but good to know.” Wyatt offered her a solemn smile, which she returned.
Back in the department car, she filled Trent in on Marty Evans.
Trent was laughing as he merged onto the street.
“What?”
“‘A proper talk’? It almost doesn’t even sound like you.”
She shook her head but was unable to deny the accusation. It wasn’t entirely in keeping with her character but seeing that young woman on the floor had rattled her. And the thought of informing her parents that she wouldn’t be coming home had the grieving mother inside of her rising for air.
THREE
Walter and Margo Bernard struck Amanda as a kind and gentle couple. In their early forties, Margo had Leah when she was twenty-three. Seeing their friendly faces at the door, even at six twenty in the morning, made what she and Trent had to tell them more difficult. Their bungalow was in a middle-income neighborhood only a few minutes from the gas station.
The couple took her and Trent to a comfortable but dated living room. An artificial Christmas tree was set up in the corner, and mistletoe dangled in the doorway. A rather comprehensive Christmas Village, placed on top of cotton batting, took up a table at the far end of the room. Leah came by her love for the holiday honestly enough.
The couple sat on a couch while she and Trent dropped into chairs. The Bernards watched them, leery expressions tugging at the corners of their mouths and eyebrows, and their eyes were watery. Amanda speculated their sixth sense was already telling them something had happened to Leah.
“Mr.and Mrs.Bernard,” Amanda began, “we regret to inform you that your daughter?—”
Margo gasped a sob, her maternal intuition kicking in.
After a few beats, Amanda tried again. “Leah was shot this morning, and I’m sorry to say that she is dead.”
Walter wrapped an arm around his wife, who appeared shell-shocked, frozen in time. Mouth slack, eyes wide, tears falling down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. The sight tugged on Amanda’s heart as she knew that searing pain all too well.
“What happened?” Walter’s voice was husky, and he cleared his throat. “A robbery?”
“We’re still in need of answers.” She saw that as more effective than dismissing it altogether. Amanda briefly caught Trent’s eye, and his mouth twitched, a subtle tell that he was also struggling with this notification. For her, it wasn’t just because of Leah’s age, but the fact they had so little to offer the Bernards.
“How can you not know that much?” Margo blinked, and her lashes refreshed with a load of plump tears. “Why aren’t you telling us the truth?”
“We are, ma’am,” Trent stepped in, relieving Amanda of some burden.
“I don’t understand.” Margo rolled the hem of her shirt in her hands and looked at her husband. The eye contact contained request for asylum and explanation.
“I don’t either,” Walter said. “How can you not know? What else could it be?”
She couldn’t blame them for wanting an explanation, but she couldn’t manifest one from thin air either. “As I said, there is a lot we need to find out.”
“Surely, you must have something to tell us.” Walter swallowed roughly. “A reason. Why?” The strangled single-word question sounded like it had scraped from his throat, inflicting damage on its way out.
Amanda stiffened, barricading herself behind a wall she erected. For the sake of justice, she couldn’t absorb the Bernards’ grief, no matter how much she empathized with them. There was no answer to that universal question that could ever satisfy. It was only acceptance and cold surrender that made life bearable in the shadow of death. “Unfortunately, we rarely have all the answers at the beginning of an investigation.”
“It doesn’t sound like you have any,” Margo snapped.
