“That’s for sure. They would have killed Christine and been in the process of cleaning up, yet it still didn’t seem to faze them that someone was at the door.”
Trent parked in front of the Lane house a few minutes after seven, and Riley was standing in the open front doorway before they reached it. Without a word, she stepped back to let them inside.
“We’re Detectives Steele and Stenson,” Amanda said, feeling it was appropriate the girl at least get their names before they crossed the threshold.
“Riley Lane, but you know that. Should we sit somewhere?”
“That would be best.” Amanda felt for the girl, thinking about the news they had come to tell her.
Riley’s cheeks flushed before she turned to lead them to the living room. It was a modest space with new leather furniture. The smell of it was hard to miss.
The three of them sat down. Amanda was the first to speak. “Unfortunately, we have some bad news…” She paused when tears pooled in Riley’s eyes.Your mother is gone, sweetheart…“It’s about your mother. She was found dead today, in a client’s home.”
Riley gasped out a sob but otherwise remained silent.
Amanda imagined there were a million questions rolling through her mind, even judgments against herself. How did it happen? Was it an accident? And how could she not have known as she went on with her life? “It was murder, Riley. She was shot.” Amanda made the method abundantly clear to counteract one effect of grief. It had a way of impeding comprehension.
Riley’s eyes snapped to Amanda’s. “She was shot?”
“She was.” Amanda would leave out the other details at the scene, like how her mother was shotthreetimes and then wrapped in a tarp.
“But who would do such a thing?” A few tears splashed onto her cheeks, and she swiped them away.
“We plan on finding out.” It wasn’t the ideal answer, but it was an honest one.
“Ah, when did this…?”
“Friday night.”
Riley got up and rushed from the room.
Amanda looked at Trent and found he was looking back at her. “We’ll just give her a few minutes,” she told him.
Witnessing this girl’s heartbreak brought back her own loss. How ten years ago, she had to bury her husband, six-year-olddaughter, and unborn baby. Like Christine Lane, they were taken suddenly without warning, but unlike Christine, they were killed in a car accident caused by a drunk driver.
A few minutes later, Riley returned wearing a plush, cream knit sweater with round wooden buttons over her T-shirt. The cardigan swallowed her frame, and she burrowed into it. The move reminded Amanda of how she’d spent many days curled up in bed wearing her late husband’s sweater while hugging one of her daughter’s stuffed toys.
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Amanda offered as fresh tears squeezed from the young woman’s eyes.
“I called and talked to her on Friday night. She sounded good. I don’t understand.” Riley shrugged deeper into the sweater and deeper into the chair she had plopped back on.
There was nothing Amanda or Trent could say to mend Riley’s heart. Only time could make the effort. “What did you talk about?”
“Oh, she just wanted me to confirm I made it to the cottage with my friends. We rented a cottage on the lake, about six hours from here, for the weekend. I just got back today. Maybe if I’d stayed home…”
Amanda shook her head. “No. None of this is on you, Riley. Please know that.”
“But she is my mother, and I rushed to get off the phone. If I had known, I never would have… I never even felt she was…” She stopped there as another batch of tears made their way down her cheeks and dripped off her jaw and chin.
“We don’t always feel it. That doesn’t mean they meant any less to us.” The sentiment was to reassure Riley, but it also accomplished the same for herself. It was an old wound, and one that she thought she’d put to bed. After the accident, denial may have temporarily blocked out the reality that her husband and daughter were gone. That didn’t stop the self-chastisementfrom hitting over the years. That she should have known regardless. That the light in the world had dimmed.
“I appreciate you saying that. Mom gave me a lot of freedom, even more after she and Dad divorced. But that didn’t stop her from being protective of me. Like asking me to call when I reached places.”
“The divorce must have been a tough transition,” Trent said.
Riley shrugged. “I was thirteen when they split, and fourteen by the time the divorce went through. Dad’s still in my life though. Mom’s, too, on a limited scale.”
“Then things are amicable between them?” Spencer had told her the marriage ended five years ago. But they’d talk with the ex-husband to feel him out. Some motives were buried deep.
