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“I left my post for a millisecond, but Greer overheard Malone asking why you were here and she got the sense you shouldn’t be here, so she blamed me for letting you on scene. Anyway, enough about me. Malone give you the go-ahead?”
“If it’s a murder.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised. You have Malone wrapped around your finger.”
“Correction: my father has him wrapped around his. I just get to benefit.”
“Whatever way it goes,” Becky said. “I’m still worried about you.”
“No need. I’ve been through more than this.”
“I’m just afraid that ‘this’ is going to trigger the past.”
Amanda didn’t know how to respond. After all, what didn’t trigger the past? She was mired there. But maybe by investigating Palmer’s death, she could put all the guilt and the feelings of turmoil behind her and start to heal. What she knew for sure was there certainly wasn’t any way she could watch the case from the outside. She’d go crazy wondering where things stood.
“Why aren’t you in the room, doing your thing?” Becky asked.
“I need to wait for my partner to show—”
“Whoa, hold up. You are getting a partner?”
“Yep. Trent Stenson.”
Becky grinned, showing teeth, the expression touching her eyes. “What a great break for him. He must have just been transferred to Homicide.”
“He was.” She couldn’t conjure any enthusiasm at his dream coming true.
“He’ll be great. You’ll see.”
“Maybe.” She hitched her shoulders.
“Okay, what’s the problem? I know you don’t like working with a partner, but—”
“He’s the primary on the investigation.”
“Oh.” Becky’s mouth dropped open. “He’s—”
“Yeah, new, a rookie. Apparently, he’s the lead on paper. Only way Malone would let me work the case at all.”
“I see.”
“At least one of us does. So while I wait, I’m not to touch anything, but you can bring me up to speed. Who found him, for starters?”
“The hotel manager, guy by the name of Ronnie Flynn. He was headed down there”—Becky pointed to an ice chest against the motel—“for some cubes for his drink. He saw the curtains were open, said his eye was naturally drawn to look inside.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Blamed the flickering lights from the television. Anyway, that’s when he saw Palmer lying on the bed, eyes wide open and unblinking. Called it in.”
“He never went into the room?”
“Claims not.”
“And where is he now?”
“With Officer Deacon.” Becky pointed to the motel office. “He’s giving his statement.”
Two figures were inside, but the colored lights blinked in the window, taking her back to the Dreamcatcher Inn where she’d had her one-night stand. She really needed a shower. She’d speak with Flynn herself, but not yet. She turned back to Becky. “Anyone else staying in the motel tonight?”
