“Yeah. Absolutely. Why?” I read nothing but sincerity in her face as she powers up her laptop.
“Nothin’. Yousureyou’re feeling okay?” I put my hand to her forehead and she slaps it away.
“Suds. Just go. Jeesh.”
“See you later, sugar.” I brush my lips across hers, more like a promise. We have some serious talkin’ to do but it’ll have to wait until later.
Back in the car, Andy’s jaw ticks. “Another thing that pisses me off? While the police focus on Sienna, they’ve stopped looking for the real killer.”
Driving, Slate nods and maneuvers into a parking garage. “You just focus on getting her out, we’ll do the rest.”
Inside lockup, we’re led to a small visiting area. Sienna, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, sits in a cracked plastic chair. Dark circles under her eyes speak more than words could ever say.
Andy hisses and reaches across the table to hug her. “Has anyone hurt you?”
Tears brimming, she shakes her head, no. “How long before you can get me out of here?”
“Tomorrow morning. I promise I won’t let you down.”
We only have a few minutes and I want to make them count so speak real quick-like which is hard for a fella like me. “Sienna, did you ever touch the inside of Calvin’s amp?”
Her eyes go wide. “God, no. No one could. Even my roadies had to sign some weird agreement to move it.”
Slate clears his throat. “Did you sleep with him?”
“Hell, no.” Her eyes shoot to Andy. “Is that what you think?”
“No, babe.” But he lowers his gaze.
Man, this is all sorts of fucked up.
Thankfully, my boss fires off the next round. “This is important. Was his amp there when you did your sound check?”
“Ah, I’m not sure. I was with Andy so one of my backup singers filled in for me. You can ask her or any of the others.”
“Sure, I’ll look into it. One more question. Do you know anything about electronics?”
Her mouth purses. “Some. I mean… I took a course… but it was years ago. Is that it? That would be enough to convict me?”
He leans in. “And do you own a tool box?”
“Just for restringing my guitar… and you know, fixing up my gear. Nothing much. I got pliers, electrical tape, that kind of thing. Roadies are always misplacing their stuff or running out… Oh my God. All I did was walk on stage. Why would anyone think I murdered him?”
When tears roll down her face, Andy almost loses it, too. “Don’t cry.”
“Can I please, please go home?”
He reaches a palm to her wet cheek. “Tomorrow, first thing. You just need to hang in there.”
Coming up mostly empty handed, we drop Andy off at his hotel so he can prepare for his wife’s arraignment. Then, Slate and I head back to Patten Securities.
“How’d it go?” Sam sighs, stretches, and looks up from her monitor while I massage her shoulders.
“Not good. Did you learn anything?”
“I’ve been looking into Sienna’s ex, Peter Olafson. So far, my money is on him.”
Slate nods. “A real piece of shit but he’s serving a life sentence. Give Jack a call. Other than Andy, he was the one most involved. See what he remembers. It’s a long shot but we should cover all of our bases.”
