I wasn’t. But his demeanor has shifted out of the defense, so that’s a win.
“She was looking at commercial space with you. Did you have to run any financial checks to do that? Some companies do preliminary checks.”
“Yeah, we do that at my company,” he affirms.
I glance at my notebook, mostly because I’m still a little nervous, not that there’s anything to write down yet. “Was she in a position to rent the premises?”
He shrugs. “Not really. She asked her parents for the extra rent money, but they refused.”
That checks out.
He continues. “But it didn’t matter because I managed to negotiate the place down to what she could afford if she agreed to sign a one-year lease. So, it worked out.” His lipspull into a tight, thin line. “Sad that she died two days later. She was so happy about it.”
Wait. She was about to start her dream job and sign a one-year lease? That doesn’t check out for a person who feels they have no future ahead of them. I stop myself from darting my gaze to Anton to see what he thinks.
I note the change in Andy’s posture. He seems genuinely unnerved by the incident. After all, Zoe was his age…
“I bet she was excited,” I say, letting just a hint of sadness into my tone and making a note of his comment. “Now, Andy, we’re asking everyone who came into contact with Zoe in the weeks before her accident.” I shuffle slightly closer, but not too close. Less authoritative. “Can I ask where you were the night of her accident? Just so I can log your alibi.” I nod expectantly.
He laughs roughly, clocking me anyway.
“I was home,” he says slowly. “Alone.”
My gaze flicks to his mom. “Can someone vouch for that?”
“No,” he answers for her. “My mom works nights on Fridays, and Dad has his bowling league.”
His mom sits on the arm of the couch and crosses her arms. It’s clear she’s still not convinced of me. “He’s been keeping to himself. Yoga, hiking. It’s been a pretty tough time for him. But I know he was here.”
When I’m a mom, I know I’ll probably say that for my child, whether it’s true or not. And unfortunately, for Mrs. Tarmigan, simply saying it doesn’t make it so.
“Andy,” I change the subject, “you drive a red pickup? Did you get issued a warning for a broken taillight two days after Zoe’s death? In Echo Valley?”
“Two days after?” His body recoils in shock. “No. That warning was five days ago.”
My brows rise. “Five days ago?”
I think about Ingram handing me the shoddy details at the impound.
“So you haven’t been in Echo Valley at all since Zoe’s accident. Until five days ago?”
“And before that, I hadn’t been there for years. The property I showed Zoe was in Vernon Hills,” Andy says confidently.
Beside me, Anton’s stillness sharpens.
And just like that, the air shifts. What in the hell is going on? Ingram lied about when he pulled over Andy?
The rest of the interview is a formality. I ask one or two more questions, still trying to secure an alibi, knowing Andy may be lying about the warning Ingram gave, and I thank them for their time.
I walk out of that house with Anton by my side, my thoughts spinning. I don’t say much until we’re back at the truck, hand braced on the door, the winter air sharp against my skin.
I’m pregnant, and the adrenaline from my first interview dumps fast and hard from my system, leaving me depleted and hungry.
But God, I might be standing on the edge of something deeper than I ever imagined.
It was one thing to chase foul play.It’s another to chase a cover-up.
Anton looks over at me, brows raised. “What next, boss?”
