“Just tell me. Trust me, I can handle whatever it is.”
“We found a body inside your home.” Amanda was going to elaborate, but Dominique gasped. “I realize this may come as a shock.”
“Was it Christine?”
“It seems so, yes.” Amanda felt comfortable in committing to that much. It wasn’t official yet, which permitted a fine line of judgment. If the body was identified as Christine, her daughter deserved to be the first to know.
Dominique’s eyes hardened. “But you don’t know for sure? Dear God, was this person horribly disfigured?And all this happened in my home?” Dominique’s voice became more shrill the longer she spoke.
Amanda must have misread her earlier gasp. It wasn’t sprung from grief but irritation at the inconvenience this was causing her. “You miss the point that someone was murdered in your home, likely your real estate agent. Do you know when she was last scheduled to show your house?”
“She called Friday night, and I told her to go ahead.”
It was just as they thought, but that didn’t stop the verification from hitting. It was sad to think Christine had been dead inside for that long without anyone knowing. “And where have you been?”
“I left for Washington last Friday morning.”
“Is that where you came from?” Sweat trickled down Amanda’s back. She needed out of the direct sunlight, or she might find out if humans could melt due to global warming.
“It is.”
“And why were you there?” Amanda kept the questions rolling while Trent recorded Dominique’s responses in his notepad. Sometimes he was old-school. Other times he tapped them into the Notes app on his department-issued tablet.
“Business.”
Trent stopped writing. “We’ll need a bit more than that.”
“Then I’ll need to know why it’s relevant. Even if Christine was murdered, it has nothing to do with me.”
“A person was killed inyourhome. I doubt you want us to see you as interfering with a murder investigation,” Amanda pointed out.
“I don’t, but I also know my rights.”
Amanda’s redhead temper flared, but she remained silent as did Trent. He was scribbling away in his notepad. What he was writing, Amanda had no clue. Possiblyuncooperative…
Dominique smiled. “I invented the silent card, Detective.You can play it as long as you like, but I’m not saying more than I already have.”
Another stream of sweat dripped down Amanda’s spine. Her forehead was soaking wet. It was like nothing fazed Dominique—not the heat or a murder in her house.
“Hey! Get away from the Cadillac!” Dominique yelled down to the street, flailing an arm at the crowd that was encroaching on her precious vehicle.
Correction. She is obsessed with her car…Diana Wesson wasn’t that far away from it, and she was waving at Amanda.Think myself invisible…Amanda faced Dominique again. “Ma’am, we need your focus here.”
“What more can I tell you? I wasn’t here and had nothing to do with it.”
“Yes, but you can see why we might be interested in the fact someone was killed in your home while you were away?” Amanda served back. “You’re going to need to tell us what took you to DC. Something more specific thanbusiness.”
“I’m in the middle of acquiring a DC law firm.”
“Was the trip to DC planned?” Amanda wasn’t sure if this would factor into Christine’s murder, but the more intel the better.
“Last minute. I decided I was going up on Friday.”
Amanda squirreled that away. “Do you know who might have an issue with Christine Lane?”
“I have no clue. We weren’t friends or anything. She worked for me.”
The distinction was noteworthy. Dominique seemed the type to think of herself as above those she paid. “Does anyone besides Christine Lane have a key or the code for your security system?”
