Chapter Eleven
“For the last time, I don’t care what the tape shows, I wasn’t at the club,” Mandy snapped at the detective sitting across the bare metal table in the interrogation room. Slapping her hand on the photo of the dead man, she hissed, “I certainly didn’t kill him!”
The detective interviewing her was an older man that Lamar recognized as Lovato’s partner, Joe Scaline. A little past what Lamar comfortably considered middle-aged, Joe was short and squat with thick salt-and-pepper hair that covered his head and crept down the back of his neck to peek over the collar button and burst out the short sleeves of his shirt. He was sprawled out in his chair, giving the impression that he was larger than he was, and his heavy-lidded eyes were hooded, making him appearperpetuallybored. It was a look that served him well, somehow easing suspects into a false sense of security that earned him the highest confession rate in the precinct.
Watching through the impact-resistant one-way glass that made up most of the wall, Lamar stared intently, his brow furrowed. A pencil was clutched in his left hand and a pad propped against the wall with the fingers of his right, but other than some rather impressive cursing, Mandy hadn’t yet said anything noteworthy.
Joe shook his head and lumbered to his feet. “You go ahead and think on that a bit,” he advised. “Now, I’m not going to put the cuffs back on, but there is an officer outside thatdoor. He will cuff you to the table if you try to leave.”
From his vantage point, Lamar could see the woman’s eyes narrow as she refused to respond, choosing instead to keep her eyes trained on the mirror facing her as Joe left the room, carefully closing the door behind him.
“She’s a tough one,” Joe said as he walked up to stand beside Lamar, watching Mandy through the glass.
“Something just doesn’t smell right,” Lamar murmured. “Can I talk to her?”
Joe shrugged. “Sure. Chief says we’ll be working this together. I was gonna let her cool her heels for a few anyway.” He headed off down the hall, calling back over his shoulder, “Just remember that I’m the good cop!”
“Ms. Clauneot,” Lamar greeted calmly as he stepped into the room. “Do you remember me?”
The blonde groaned, shoving a length of her wavy hair behind her ear. “I didn’t kill your guy, either.”
Lamar couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping. “No, I wasn’t going to suggest you did. Actually, I was wondering if you could think of anyone who might want to frame you for murder?”
Her porcelain brow scrunched and then Mandy shook her head dejectedly. “Not really.”
“Okay. Do you take any medications or recreational drugs that might affect your memory?”
Mandy surprised him by laughing. “Detective, I don’t even take aspirin.”
“Alcohol?”
“I don’t drink.”
“At all? Ever?”
She shook her head. “Never.”
Lamar studied her for a second. “Have you seen any pictures of the room where the victim was found?”
“Just that one.”
Lamar reached for the picture on the table. It was a close-up of the dead man’s face, the only visible background was the stark white sheet on the bed. There was no sign of the empty liquor bottles. “Ms. Clauneot, have you asked for an attorney?”
“Not yet.”
Lamar continued to watch her, struggling with an inner dilemma. Finally reaching his decision, he took a slow, deep breath. “Will you consent to a blood alcohol test?” When her lips twitched into a frown, he rushed to explain. “If you’re telling the truth and you don’t ever drink, it could bolster your defense.”
“Fine,” Mandy groaned. “What do I have to do?”
“It’s going to be a two-part test,” Lamar explained, pulling out his phone and rapid-typing a text. “I’m going to have you blow a breathalyzer which will give us an instant read. If that comes back negative, then we’ll do a blood test to confirm. Are you okay with that? You do not have to do this.”
“I’m in,” Mandy declared firmly. “Whatever I need to do to clear this up.”
“Good.” A light knock came from the door. Lamar opened it, accepting a small plastic box from the officer standing there. Pulling out a piece of paper and a pen, he slid them in front of her. “I need you to read this and sign the bottom acknowledging that you are consenting to the test and I haven’t applied any undue pressure to you.”
Mandy scribbled across the line he indicated and began to roll her sleeve up. “Let’s do this.”
Lamar raised a brow. “We only need to draw blood if you pass the breath test.”
She mirrored his lifted brow and shrugged. “I know. You might as well get your needle ready.”
“Off the record?” Lamar pulled the breathalyzer from the box. “If you’re right, when the other detective gets back, you need to lawyer up.”
