“Notice what?” Riley asked.
“She’s changed her hair color.”
Riley blinked. “Okay, firstly, how do you know that, and second, what does it matter? She could’ve dyed her hair purple if she wanted to.”
Dan locked gazes with him. “Itmattersbecause before she dyed it, Wendy Farrell could easily pass for Amy Walsh.Youmight not have looked at her photos, but I did.”
Gary expelled a breath. “So maybe Amy wasn’t at the restaurant after all. Maybe she really did kill Jeff.”
Riley huffed. “I guess one of that group had to be guilty of murder eventually.” He froze. “Sperm.”
Dan arched his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“Remember Murphy’s autopsy report stated there were sperm cells present in his mouth.” He rubbed his cheek. “Okay, you’re gonna have to bear with me on this one, because this isn’t something I’ve ever… participated in, so I can’t describe it with any degree of accuracy, but—”
“Will you stop dancing around and come out with it?” Gary demanded.
“Might this be a possible scenario? Murphy on his back, the killer’s dick in his mouth—and Amy delivers the fatal blow with the heel of her shoe?”
Across the hallway, a uniformed officer opened the door to Amy’s apartment.
“Detectives?”
Gary glanced at Riley. “Hold that thought. Yes, Officer Lomax?”
“There’s something I think you should see.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
THEY FOLLOWEDhim into the living room.
Dan surveyed the room, noting the furniture, the rope still hanging from the ceiling fan, opening himself up to whatever energy was present.
“What have you got for us?” Gary asked.
Officer Lomax gestured to the coffee table. “We went through her purse and found this.” He picked up a slip of paper, already bagged in clear plastic and sealed. “It’s a receipt for a shoe store in Cambridge, Shoes On First.”
Gary gave him a focused stare. “And?”
The officer flushed. “That note she left, saying she killed Jeff Murphy? I was one of the attending officers called to that apartment at Cronin’s Landing last year. I remember how he died.” He shivered, then seemed to pull himself together. “Well… this receipt is for a pair of high-heeled shoes bought in January last year.” He pointed to the coffee table, where one red stiletto shoe sat, encased in a clear evidence bag. “We found that under the coffee table. No prints on it.” He looked Gary in the eye. “I might be wrong, sir, but that seems awfully similar to the one we found at the crime scene. It’s got the same metal design on the heel. Pretty distinctive, wouldn’t you say?”
Dan came over to observe as Gary examined the receipt.
“It’s dated January 16, 2018, and the buyer paid cash,” the officer informed them.
Gary smiled. “Well done, Officer Lomax. And now there’s something I’d like you to do for me, once we’re all done here. Go to Shoes On First, taking this shoe with you. It’s a long shot,but I want you to see if anyone remembers this sale. If it’s as distinctive as you say, we could get lucky.”
Officer Lomax blinked. “Thatisa long shot, sir, but I’m on it.” He paused. “And there’s something else. That suicide note. She couldn’t have written it here.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no printer. The cables are here, sure, but there’s a space where the printer should be.” Lomax shrugged. “Maybe it was being repaired.”
Dan noted the twinkle in Gary’s eyes.
“Ever think about becoming a detective, Officer Lomax?”
Lomax smiled. “My application is already in, sir.” He picked up the bag containing the shoe.