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Amanda could say the same thing about Courtney, but her issue was probably more with cops on her doorstep than people in general.
“Justin, go play in your room. For now. But then we’ve got to go.”
The boy glared at his mother but relinquished his spot on the floor and ran off down a hallway, yelling, “Yay!”
“Is there somewhere we can sit?” Trent asked.
Courtney showed them to a living area that was part war zone; children’s toys were scattered everywhere.
Amanda moved a plastic solider off a couch cushion and sat down. She felt like she was observing from a distance and not really there. Her mind was preoccupied with that little boy—Palmer’s little boy.
Trent sat next to Amanda and looked at her as if asking whether she wanted him to handle the notification.
She jumped in. “I’m here to tell you that Chad Palmer was found dead this morning in a room at Denver’s Motel here in Dumfries.”
Courtney dropped into a chair. “He was— You’re kidding right?” She glanced at Trent, back to Amanda.
“I’m sorry, but no.” Amanda pressed her lips together and crossed her legs. Normally she’d deliver such news with more finesse and feeling, but in this situation, she had none to offer.
“Well… uh… what happened to him?” Courtney’s voice cracked, but no tears sprang to her eyes.
“He was murdered,” Amanda deadpanned.
“Someone killed him,” Courtney mumbled; she seemed about as devoid of emotion as Amanda was. Could be shock, could be something else. She also didn’t give Amanda the impression the news came as a real surprise.
“Was he shot?” Courtney asked stiffly.
Amanda shook her head and studied the other woman. “Why would you think he was shot?” she asked, though she had an inkling as to the reason she’d leaped there.
Courtney’s eyes flicked to hers. “You really don’t know? His former business partner was shot, murdered, around the time Chad went to prison. I don’t think police ever figured out who killed him. You could look up his file, I’m sure.”
“Yes, we know Mr. Webb.” Amanda watched Courtney as she worried her lip and bounced her legs. “Do you have an idea who killed him?”
“Doubt any of my suspicions matter, Detective.”
“Try us, and we’ll determine whether they do.”
Courtney shook her head.
“Mr. Webb’s murder was connected to a woman killed in Georgia.” Amanda watched Courtney for any tells. Nada. “We believe she originated from Dumfries or Prince William County. Her name was Casey-Anne Ritter. Did y
ou know her?”
“Never heard of her.” Courtney’s answer was quick, but she met Amanda’s eyes. It would seem she was telling the truth, but Amanda still had to push.
“We’re trying to figure out what happened to Chad, and anything you can tell us would be of help.” A guilt trip often worked to get people tapping into their humanity and opening up, and maybe if Amanda put emphasis on someone more personal to Courtney, she’d be more compelled to talk.
“I don’t owe him anything,” Courtney hissed.
“Not even as the father of your child?” Amanda slapped back, and it had Courtney narrowing her eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t have any names that come to mind?” Trent interjected, pulling out his notepad and pen. “People who might have wanted to harm Mr. Webb and/or Mr. Palmer?”
Courtney bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “I’m not snitching to cops.”
Amanda glanced at Trent; she was going to try another tack. “Chad had twenty-five grand on his person when he was arrested.”
Courtney’s eyes flicked to hers.
