“What about issues with other friends or family?”
I didn’t plan to reveal that Amanda’s father had raped her as a child. If she’d kept that to herself, it should stay that way. People had a right to their secrets.
“I know that Amanda’s mother died when she was young, which was probably why she was such an attentive mother herself. She grew up poor, too. She tried to make her childhood sound idyllic or charming or something, but I got the sense it was really hard.”
“What do you mean?”
“Amanda was wonderful, but she was also a closed-off person. Guarded. Like she’d been damaged.”
“Had she been?”
Sarah looked overwhelmed with regret. “I was her best friend in Park Slope, and honestly, I have no idea. Amanda was good at making you feel like you knew her really well, even when she was keeping you at arm’s length. What did, um, what’s her name … Carolyn. What did Carolyn say?”
“Carolyn?” I asked. Amanda had mentioned a Carolyn in her journals, but that had been years ago.
“Yes, Amanda’sbestbest friend,” Sarah said, with clear disdain for my investigative skills. “From what’s-it-called, St. Whatever. Practically like a sister. You should definitely talk to her. She lives in Manhattan.”
“Do you know how I can reach her?” I asked.
“Nope. Ask Zach. He must know, right?” She eyed me then.She knew as well as I did that he easily might not. “Heisher husband.”
“Any conflicts here at work?”
“Amanda ran from conflict of any kind. She almost had a breakdown when the foundation accountant was trying to track her down.”
“About what?”
“Nothing, I’m sure.” Sarah waved a hand. “What I mean is that Amanda hated dealing with anybody in a position of authority.”
Except an accountant meant money, and money was another reason people were killed.
“Do you have that accountant’s name?” I asked.
“I might.” Sarah pushed to her feet. “I’d have to check my office. I’ll be right back.”
I stood once Sarah had gone, taking the opportunity alone for a quick look around Amanda’s office. Like at the house, there were shelves filled with pictures, but these were fantastic candids, almost all of Case. There was one posed shot of Amanda, Case, and Zach, but it was up on a high shelf and off to the side, as though kept deliberately out of sight. As I turned to check out the shelves over Amanda’s desk, I spotted a black Moleskine journal on top of a stack of papers in the corner. It looked like the fancy blank one I’d found at the house. Maybe Amanda’s most recent one. I could already hear Sarah’s heels clicking back down the polished concrete hallway. I lunged over the desk, grabbed the journal, and shoved it in my bag. My chair squeaked as I banged back down. Luckily, Sarah didn’t seem to notice when she reentered the office. She was too flustered herself.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I have no idea where I put the accountant’s name.”
“That’s okay. I can get it from Zach,” I said, willing myself to look calm as I pressed on with my questions. “How did Amanda seem at Maude’s party the night she died?”
Died, notkilled. I’d been practicing swapping out the terms. Admit nothing, not even the most basic facts. It was the first rule ofcriminal procedure.
“Oh, um, she seemed fine,” Sarah said. “She looked beautiful as always. I’m sure you’ve seen pictures. She was a woman that people gawked at. If you’re looking for alternative theories, I would look into that. There are a lot of perverts in the world.” She looked disgusted. “There are whole porn subgenres devoted to it.”
I nodded. But somebody with a crush was not the kind of alternate theory that would be useful. Juries wanted specifics. Something, someone, they could sink their teeth into. Anything else was too much like saying the bogeyman did it; you couldn’t put him behind bars.
“The two of you spoke at the party?”
“Only for a minute, and mostly about Maude—she was really worried about her daughter. So Amanda and I were worried about her.”
“What’s wrong with her daughter?”
“She’s a teenager at camp. What isn’t wrong with her?” Sarah said dismissively. “Maude’s not used to it, that’s all. She got some dramatic letters and panicked. I’m sure it’s fine now. Then again, we’ve all had more important things to think about.”
“Did you see Amanda talking to anyone else?”
“No, but I got all wrapped up talking to this Brooklyn Country Day mom who I barely even know—who I definitely don’t even like—about the Great Email Debacle.”
