The Little Grave (Detective Amanda Steele)

“He’s going to call,” she said, lacking all enthusiasm and hope that her little ruse would actually pay off.

“So the damsel-in-distress routine worked?” Trent smiled at her. He either didn’t pick up on her pessimism or didn’t want to poke it and get into an argument.

“Like a charm.” This time she tried to infuse her voice with optimism, but she’d love nothing better than to pop one of the Xanax in her pocket. She hadn’t been feeling good ever since she’d first laid her hand on her stomach and the memories of being pregnant had come hurtling back—and dragged the memories of her sweet little Lindsey’s face along with them.

“Men usually can’t resist coming to the rescue.”

“Yeah, base creatures,” she plugged, hardly believing the bartender had continued to hit on her once he’d thought she was pregnant. What a creep.

“We consider ourselves wise creatures.”

Kevin had certainly loved giving advice, even when she didn’t want to hear it. Sometimes a person just needed to vent. “Uh-huh. Well, wise creature, we should try Courtney Barrett again.”

“Oh, yes, we should, but you’d like to know, while you were in the bar, I got Palmer’s visitor list from the prison and the list of items he was booked with. I forwarded the emails to you, so you have a copy of each.”

She pulled out her phone and brought up her email app and watched as they filtered into her inbox. She first opened the attachment with the item list.

Duffel bag—Blue, gray stripe

Cash—25K

Wallet—leather with ID and misc. papers cards and such, $30 in bills and change

Jacket—Jean, Men’s Large

Belt—Leather

Keyring—two keys for house and one for vehicle (Honda HR-V)

Bracelet—Silver chain

She looked over at Trent. “Did the investigators recover a bracelet?”

“I don’t think so.”

She pulled out her phone and called the forensics lab and was patched through.

“Emma Blair here.”

Amanda cringed at the sound of the investigator’s voice. Apparently, it had been too much to hope CSI Donnelly would have answered. “This is Detective Steele.” She paused expecting that the CSI would interject with some expression of recognition, but nada. Amanda continued. “I was at the Palmer crime scene this morning.”

“I know who you are. What can I do for you, Detective?”

Chilly. Amanda pushed on. “Did you or CSI Donnelly happen to recover a silver bracelet from the victim’s possessions?”

“No.”

“You’re certain? You don’t want to go check—”

“I assure you that I am well aware of all the personal effects that were collected from the motel room, and there wasn’t a bracelet among them.”

“Okay then.”

The line went dead.

Amanda was left holding her phone, a little in shock. “She’s such a sweetheart.”

Trent laughed. “Let me guess: you spoke to the senior CSI from the scene.”