The Little Grave (Detective Amanda Steele)

“That you’re working the Palmer investigation in any capacity?” Malone cut her off. “Not as long as I can help it.”

“She’d probably take pleasure in knowing that I’m reporting to a rookie.” The statement came out with a little more zing than she’d intended.

“That can be rectified,” he snapped back.

“I’m sorry.”

“I should say so.” Malone clasped his hands in his lap. “So the word just came in from the medical examiner’s office. Palmer was force-fed alcohol and killed as a result.”

“That’s what I was told.”

He peered into her eyes. “You know how this might look?”

“I know how it could be construed.”

“And I’m pretty sure you know what I need… Just so we’re in front of this.”

Amanda gripped the arms of the chair. “My alibi. As you said on the phone.”

“Bingo.”

“There are a couple of leads Trent and I intend to follow. One is a man whose son was in a car accident with Palmer as a teen.”

Malone leaned forward, put elbows on desk. “Ah, yes, I remember. The father’s name was Albert Ferguson if I remember right.”

No one could claim Malone had a poor memory. “That’s him, and did you happen to know that Palmer’s business partner was murdered… not long after Palmer’s arrest?”

“I did.” He squinted as if not sure where she was headed.

“What about Casey-Anne Ritter from Georgia?”

“Yeah. It was connected to Webb’s.” He angled his head and studied her eyes. “You think the same killer is back?”

She shrugged. “Why not? It’s a possibility we haven’t ruled out.”

“Yeah, you have to exhaust every angle.”

A fact she was very aware of, but she wasn’t going to point that out to Malone and risk offending him.

Malone continued. “I’ve spoken to the forensics lab and have asked that everything related to this case is rushed through. You should also be getting a list of items deemed evidence before the end of the day. Obviously any DNA evidence may take longer to process, but you should have a good springboard to start with.”

“Thank you. We’ve also become aware that Palmer was in possession of a large amount of cash at the time of the accident—”

Malone shuffled and sat up straighter, but his gaze drifted to the top of his desk. “Always follow the money.”

“Intend to. If we can find it.”

“It’s missing?”

“Seems to be. Can’t be accounted for anyhow.” This would be the perfect time to name Freddy, but she couldn’t bring herself to come out with it. Somehow verbalizing him to her sergeant made the nightmare and her regrettable decision that much more real.

“We were told by Palmer’s old girlfriend that Palmer and his partner fenced stolen goods at their pawnshop.”

“Huh.” Malone studied her face. “This missing money could have been owed to someone then.”

She nodded. “What we’re thinking.” She glanced away; looking at him in the eye and withholding from him was torturing her conscience.

“This money could have gotten Palmer’s partner killed and Palmer.”