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“I’m sure you heard Tim was here today. He wanted to talk to you.”
“Tim Hurston?”
“You know who I mean.”
“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“You don’t have to be so pissy about him, you know. You and I have been over a long time.”
McCrae smiled faintly. “As long as he stays out of my business, he’s all yours.”
“That’s the pissy attitude I’m talking about!” she called as he headed for his Explorer.
McCrae actually laughed for the first time in a long time.
* * *
Delta pulled into the long drive toward Amanda’s house, which she’d inherited from her parents after the accident that had permanently injured her brother. Delta had occasionally wondered about how her parents could just up and leave Amanda and Thom, but hadn’t wanted to feel anything like pity for the woman who’d caused such trouble and misery for her and Tanner.
But now she needed her. Maybe there was someone else she could call, but she didn’t know who that person was, and the one thing everyone said about Amanda was how good she was at her job.
The driveway circled around to the back, but Amanda’s black Lexus SUV was parked outside the double-bay garage that sat back from the house and had once housed the golf cart they used to transport supplies to the barbeque. Delta pulled her Audi up beside it. Her car was nearly paid off. A blessing, as she had no idea what her future finances were going to bring. She’d asked about reopening the clinic at Candy’s request, although who the doctor in charge might be was a question. Elderly Dr. Gervais wasn’t anyone’s idea of someone who could run the business.
She thought briefly of McCrae, whom she’d deliberately not contacted since the day before. She’d made a point of blocking him from her mind and keeping her phone off. It was just better to keep him at arm’s length right now.
She rang the back bell off the patio; it wasn’t a house where anyone used the front entrance. A few minutes later, she watched Amanda approach through the back door’s glass panes. She wore a light gray blouse and a pair of black slacks, and looked cool and comfortable even though the July evening was hanging onto the day’s heat. She greeted Delta with, “Hello, there,” as she opened the door and gestured for Delta to enter.
Delta’s pulse was running light and fast as she stepped inside. The last time she’d been here was the night of the barbecue.
Amanda led her to the dining room. She sat down in an end chair, and Delta took the seat to her right. The rest of the table seemed to stretch away from them toward the interior of the house, an interior that felt empty and disused, which it probably was most of the time.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water or a soda? Coffee or tea?” Amanda asked.
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“You sounded kind of urgent last night.”
Delta squeaked out a half laugh. “Well . . . yeah.”
Amanda’s expression grew serious. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want an honest answer. Many defense lawyers don’t want to know if their client has committed the crime. That’s not me. I want to know the truth, exactly what I’ll be dealing with if I take your case.”
“Okay.”
“Did you kill your husband?”
“No.”
Amanda’s blue eyes stared into Delta’s. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
Delta could feel the heat rush to her face. “I loved him. Someone stabbed him over and over again. I want to know who that someone is. I can’t believe you could think it was me. I’m just . . . holding on by a thread.”
“Did you see Ellie’s news report last night?”
“If you mean Lester Stahd’s decimation of my character, yes.”
“Before that. Ellie’s . . . eulogy. I believe she was trying for intimate and warm, but that’s a little out of her reach.”
“I saw some of it.”
