“We also found your membership card for a local gun range in your wallet.” Trent produced the card from the folder.
“It means nothing!”
The lawyer touched Spencer’s arm, but he pulled out of reach. “You’re seeing what you want to see. I didn’t kill Christine.”
“How long have you been a member?” Trent rolled ahead as if Spencer’s outburst hadn’t fazed him.
“Five years.”
“And do you practice often?”
“Whenever I can. I find it relaxing.” Spencer was talking in a monotone like a robot.
“Then you could pull off a shot to the chest and the head fromtwenty feet?”
Amanda crossed her arms and hugged herself. She was the one who found the membership card.
The lawyer smiled again. “Detective, we have been patient, but just because my client may like to fire guns in his personal time that doesn’t mean he shot his girlfriend. I’ve failed to hear any evidence that places him at the murder scene.”
The attorney had struck the weak underbelly of their case against Spencer. All they had was circumstantial evidence and a potential motive. The crime scene had offered little forensically.
“As you know, Mr. Thornton, we have more than enough to hold your client while we continue our investigation.”
“Why? So you can try to build a case against him? From what I’ve heard, you don’t have enough for a foundation.”
“Hardly true, but we’re within our right to hold him for twenty-four hours without laying a charge.”
That would allow them time to compare the markings from Spencer’s gun to the fragments recovered from Christine’s body. It was nauseating that Spencer would need to spend a single night in holding, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. And if he was guilty, he’d need to get used to life behind bars.Behind bars, her mind reiterated. When she’d brought him in she hadn’t expected things would go this far.
“Would your client comply to providing a sample of his fingerprints and DNA?”
“That’s a hard no, Detective,” Thornton said.
“Your client’s refusal doesn’t make things look good for him. It would be easier if he cooperated with us?—”
“Like hell,” Spencer spat. “I know how the system works. There’s no way I’m handing any of that over.”
Amanda flinched. That’s likely how he viewed her now. As part ofthe system. From the sound of it, one he saw as corrupt.
“Suit yourself then,” Trent told him.
“Don’t you get it? You find an iota ofmy DNA on Christine, then you’ll pin her murder on me. But we were together. It’s possible you’ll find one of my hairs… or something. Everything will be twisted. I’ll be one of those innocents serving life in prison.”
“Have it your way, then. We’ll need to get a court order,” Trent said.
“Good luck with that,” the lawyer said.
Trent gathered everything from the table. In the doorway, he said to Spencer, “An officer will be in to take you to a holding cell for the night.”
Spencer glared at the one-way mirror again. Although he couldn’t see her, she still couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. She was numb as she headed for the door.
“Amanda?” Malone called out to her.
She waved her arm over her head and ignored Trent in the hallway. She needed to get out of here, go home, and let tonight sink in.
SIXTEEN
The heat the next morning was slightly less aggressive than yesterday, but it was still quite humid. It accentuated Amanda’s headache from a horrible night’s sleep, but neither the weather nor pain was going to hold her back. She walked into Central ready to tackle whatever came her way. If Spencer had killed Christine, she had confidence in herself to see this through.
