TWO
After seeing his face and saying his name, Amanda’s world tilted upside down. Tony Bishop, a person from her past. Way, way back. One stolen moment. One kiss that never should have happened. One secret she’d been carrying around since high school. She’d been a junior, him a senior—and five years older than her because he’d been held back a grade in elementary school. They’d first met fighting over the last cheese-and-bacon bagel in the school cafeteria and had an instant connection that lasted for years even after he left for college.
Trent narrowed his eyes, a smirk toying with the edges of his mouth, as if he were awaiting some juicy tidbit of gossip. “Just how well do you know this guy?”
She nodded. Not an answer, but all he was getting.
“I see you’re talkative on the matter.”
“Let’s just focus on what’s in front of us, go from there.” There was no sense getting carried away about the case being a conflict of interest. They didn’t even know for sure if Alicia Gordon had been murdered. There might not even be a case for her and Trent to investigate. But until then, she wanted the chance to explore the circumstances surrounding Alicia’s death. She at least owed that to Tony, didn’t she? The question curdled in her stomach with an instant reply. She didn’t owe him anything.
There was a span of silence, then Trent said, “All right, then. Keep your secret, but it might complicate things.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You think?” He had no idea. And maybe her response was a little snarky, but she was doing her best to insert some space between herself and Trent these days. Sarcasm seemed to work rather well at pushing him away. When that didn’t work, she diverted to business. After all, nothing good could come from getting involved with a colleague. Not that she had time for a romantic indulgence anyhow. She had recently adopted a six-year-old girl, Zoe Parker, and the child came first.
Amanda nudged her head toward a police cruiser in the lane. Its exhaust was coming out in plumes of white smoke in the cool air.
A shiver tore through her.
Officer Wyatt was in the front with a woman, presumably the person who had found Alicia. Wyatt would be taking her initial statement in the shelter and warmth of the vehicle, but Amanda and Trent would need to follow up with their own questions.
Amanda led the way over, and Officer Wyatt got out.
“Detectives,” he said. “It’s pretty straightforward. Pamela Zimmerman owns the cabin, and she found the deceased at one thirty when she arrived to clean the place for the next renter. They’re due in on Saturday.”
“Okay.” Amanda glanced at the property owner. She was dabbing her nose with a tissue. “You pull a background on Zimmerman?”
“Sure did, and nothing flags.”
“Did Ms. Gordon ever rent from her before?” Trent asked, impressing Amanda. Establishing that might factor into the investigation. If Alicia had made a habit of staying there, it could make it easier for a killer to target her here—assuming this was murder.
Wyatt shrugged. “I didn’t think to ask that.”
“All right, well, we’ll take it from here,” Amanda told him.
“Ah, where do you want to question her? You want me to take her to Central?”
Central Station was where the PWCPD Homicide Unit was stationed, but it was located in Woodbridge about a half-hour drive away. She flicked a finger toward the cruiser. “Seems she’s comfortable in your car. Could we just pick things up in there?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Wyatt glanced around, his eyes holding desperation and the look of someone who was lost. He obviously wasn’t looking forward to standing outside.
“Here.” Trent handed him the keys to their department car. “Make yourself at home.”
“Mighty appreciate it.” Wyatt held up the keys and dipped his head.
Amanda sat behind the wheel, and Trent got into the rear seat without any complaint about the hard plastic on his backside.
“Ms. Zimmerman, I’m Detective Steele, and this is Detective Stenson.” Amanda angled her body toward the console and gestured to Trent.
Pamela craned her neck to look at him.
Amanda continued. “We know you just gave your statement to Officer Wyatt, but we need to run through everything with you quickly. Procedure.” She tagged on that last bit in the hopes of quelling any grumblings Pamela might have about repeating herself. The disclosure only worked a third of the time. This instance was one of them as Pamela didn’t raise any objections. “What time did you get to the cabin?”
“It was right around one thirty. I ate lunch and came over after.”
“And where do you live?” Amanda asked.
“Just fifteen minutes down the road.”
“Do you know if Alicia had company?” Amanda wasn’t holding out hope, given the distance between the woman’s home and the cabin.
“I wouldn’t know. I can just tell you that she booked as a solo.”
That didn’t rule out visitors, but Pamela wasn’t going to be a help in that regard. “When you got here, did you have to unlock the door to let yourself in?”
“Uh-huh. Well, I knocked first.” Pamela dabbed her nose with a tissue. “I could see that her vehicle was still in the driveway. She should have been gone already.”
Amanda had noted the Mercedes when she first arrived on scene. She’d circle back to how long Alicia had rented the cabin for, but first she wanted to narrow in on something else. “So the door was locked?”
“It was, and that’s why I hesitated to go inside. But something inside me was pushing me to do so.” Pamela laid a hand over her stomach. “Guess it was a good thing I did.”
Locked door. All alone. Perhaps Alicia Gordon had died by suicide? Then again… “How does the lock on the cabin door work? Does it require a key to lock it from the outside?” Some locks could be engaged with a simple twist and pulling the door shut. The answer could go a long way to determining if someone else had been in the cabin with Alicia.
“It’s a single deadbolt and requires a key.”
Which meant either Alicia had locked it from inside or someone had taken the key. “I assume she was given just one copy?”
“Yes.”