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Granted, it was odd timing, but ... “People get headaches.”
“So at the time Anne was murdered, Mitch was alone in his room?” she said, skepticism rich in her soothing voice. He’d neverhad a voice calm him before, but hers oddly did, despite the topic of their discussion.
“Yes,” he continued. “Mitch said he called Anne to say good night a little after ten and went to sleep.”
“So there’s a call between them that night?” She shifted, sitting with her back fully against the seat.
They rounded the last bend, and the brilliant lights of Albuquerque and expansive metro areas shone like a thousand candles in the midst of a dark desert.
He looked over, and she was smiling—a wide one that lit her face in the hazy moonlight.
She glanced over. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” she said. “I never tire of entering the city at night.”
“Beautiful,” he said, more of her than the lights, but she was right.
“So back to the phone call...” It didn’t take her long to refocus.
“Right. It lasted roughly five minutes.” The case details were cemented in his head.
“Did Anne receive any other calls that night?”
“According to her phone records, which Mitch’s defense attorney let me see, no. Mitch’s was the only call that night, but Simmons had called the night before, and they had a twenty-minute conversation. Mitch said Anne told him about the call—that Simmons said how desperately he wanted to be back with her, but she’d told him she’d found someone new. According to Mitch, he did not take it well.”
“According to Mitch, huh? I’m assuming the police asked Simmons about the nature of the call?”
“Yes, according to my sources, Simmons claimed he only called to say he missed her, and noted that she sounded ‘off.’”
They rolled into the city, lights surrounding them. “Take a right on Tramway. I’m up in Sandia Heights.”
“So you’ve got a great view,” he said.
She nodded. “A breathtaking one.” She inhaled, then streamed it out, raking a hand through her golden hair.
“Oh, you’re going to want to take a right up here onto San Rafael. You’ll see O’Beans Coffee just before the corner.”
“Got it.” He flipped on his blinker and made the right.
“Head straight back. It’s the second-to-last driveway on your right before you hit Honeysuckle Drive.”
“Wow. You livewayback here.” He looked to the foothills the community nestled against.
“I love it. You can hear coyotes at night, see the lights of Albuquerque almost as good as when you enter on 40.”
Deckard followed the road, and she waited to point her driveway out. “One more question before we get home ... my home ... You know what I mean.”
Home. He was just starting to get the concept with his ranch. But it still didn’t feel permanent ...settled. The fear it could be ripped away still lingered, and he hated his parents for that.
“Is it possible Mitch drove back or was already on the way back toward Albuquerque when he placed the call?” she asked. “He met her, killed her, and headed back to his hotel in Cruces well before morning?”
“It’s a three-hour drive each way,” he said.
“Next driveway.” She pointed.
He turned onto her drive and pulled to a stop in front of her condo’s two-car garage. “Nice place,” he said.
“It’s home.” She smiled.
Home.There was that notion again.
