The Little Grave (Detective Amanda Steele)

“That’s if Palmer didn’t pay off his debt. It seemed he intended to stick around.”

“Do you think Palmer’s murder is connected to both cold cases? Truly?”

“I think it’s far too soon to dismiss the possibility.”

Malone leaned back in his chair again, a flicker of angst dancing across his face. “This could get out of control fast. I can’t stress enough how important it is that you get out in front of this. Just in case his murder doesn’t link to the cold cases beyond his previous relationship with Webb.”

“I know.”

“Certainly not settling my stomach. And lots of people could have wanted Palmer dead because of his drinking.”

She could barely bring herself to nod and hated that the conversation had circled back to this point.

“I don’t have to tell you what small towns are like and how they like to talk.”

“Just about as bad as police departments.” She tossed that in, in an attempt at lightening the air, but it didn’t come close to working.

“Keeping your name and connection with Palmer out of the news is going to be an uphill battle.” He sighed. “You are being careful?”

“Yeah.” She lowered in her chair, if only slightly. She’d already been recognized by a couple of people as she and Trent had made their rounds, but she sure as hell wasn’t confessing that much to Malone.

Whether Malone missed her subtle body language or chose to ignore it, he said, “Regardless of what way this case turns—isolated incident or number three in a string of murders—I won’t be able to keep Lieutenant Hill out of this forever. You know what she’s like.”

“How she likes to put her nose into everything. Yep, I know.”

“Especially when it comes to you.”

Amanda’s hunch that the lieutenant held a vendetta against her was confirmed yet again. “Joy. She’s always been more concerned about her public image than the department’s.”

“Yeah, well, if this blows up, it will be both images that suffer and I know you care about that. The latter one anyhow.”

She tried to muster the zeal to protect the department she represented, but ever since the accident, her enthusiasm just

wasn’t there anymore. She was more going through the motions than she was any crusader for justice.

“You do?” he stressed.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll accept that, but a tad more enthusiasm would be nice.” He paused as if he expected her to intercept but she remained silent. He went on. “Okay, then. May I suggest—for your own good—get that alibi yesterday and follow the money as I said, but I also think talking to Ferguson would be wise.”

“He’s my next stop.”

“Your next stop?”

It was too late to retreat from her slip that she’d be on her own. She opened her mouth to defend herself, then shut it.

“You can’t be doing solo interviews, Amanda. What if someone recognizes you? Tell me you haven’t branched out on your own.”

She could argue that with Trent by her side she had been recognized, but that wouldn’t help her cause.

Malone narrowed his eyes. “Where’s Trent?”

“Following a lead.”

“Oh Lord.” Malone massaged his left temple. “I feel a headache coming on.”

“He’ll be fine, trust me.”