Page 43 of Last Seen Alive
“Yeah, I got that feeling myself. She really had no idea who or what we were talking about.” He turned on the car, and the vents belted them with cool air almost immediately as they hadn’t been gone for long. “So back to the station for movie time?” He lifted the USB drive that contained the hotel’s surveillance video.
“We’ll get there, but since we’re out, I want to look at the crime scene again.”
He put the car into gear. “Whatever you’d like.”
Guess any discussion on the topic wasn’t going to happen. But just because he wasn’t talking didn’t mean that her mind wasn’t nattering away. There was a strange feel to the air. Did he think returning to Logan’s would be awkward for her? She’d survived stranger things than a one-night stand turning sideways. Or would it be uncomfortable for him being there with her? “We can stop for a bite to eat first.”
“Sounds good. Pizza?”
“Usually I do that with Zoe on Tuesdays. We make them at home.”
“Oh, right. I remember you telling me before. What about chicken wings?”
“That’s fine. Tired of burgers, I take it?” They often took advantage of the drive-thru and ate in the parking lot.
“How did you guess?”
“A man tired of beef, that’s a first,” she teased.
“I know, and the barbecue season is just getting started.” He glanced over at her when she didn’t say anything. “For everyone except you. I saw that relic on your patio. It’s all rusted out.”
“It was more Kev’s thing than mine.” She wasn’t going to admit that she had no idea how to use the thing even if she wanted to. It was embarrassing to think that at thirty-seven she didn’t even know how to turn it on… well, maybe she could get that far.
“I hope I didn’t upset you by making you think of him.”
“No, not at all.” There was a time that any memory or mention of her dead husband would have had her chest knotting in pain, but thankfully it seemed the worst of her grief had finally passed. Not that she wouldn’t give almost anything to talk to him again, to see his face, to hear his laugh, but having Zoe in her life reminded her how things moved on.
“Good. So Dingawings it is then.”
She laughed. The proprietor had certainly chosen the name of his business wisely—that’s if he wanted to put a smile on his customers’ faces. “That’s fine.” She wasn’t a major fan of chicken wings, but she wasn’t completely opposed either. It was Becky who cringed at the thought of gnawing on the little bones.
* * *
The wings were delicious. Perfectly cooked and coated with just the right amount of sauce. And Amanda might have eaten one or two more than she needed.
“Wow. You’d think you’d eat less considering you’re forced to eat a little slower, but…” Amanda put a hand over her stomach.
Trent laughed. “They are addictive, though.”
He pulled the department car into Logan’s driveway. After eating, they’d dropped by the station and picked up Logan’s key.
A cruiser was at the curb behind them, the officer there in case he was needed.
She got the door, cutting the crime seal tape. As she entered the house, Friday night flooded back. How anxious and excited she’d felt to be there with Logan after all this time. How they crashed together and couldn’t get to the bedroom fast enough. Then how everything had turned to shit.
She turned the entry light on, and it cast enough illumination that it was easy to make out the living area to the immediate left and the walkway toward the back of the house. She slid the house key into her pants pocket and thought about how the killer and Claire had even gained entry.
“There was no sign of forced entry…” She retraced her steps to the front step, flicking the exterior light on as she walked. She inspected around the doorjamb. No nicks or evidence someone had tried to jimmy the door to get in. No obvious scrape marks around the keyhole either.
“Could be they came in through a window.” Trent shrugged.
“I’d like to think that every possible entry point would have been inspected closely.” She imagined the investigators combed every windowsill for any sign someone had pried them open.
“Well, they could have picked the lock.”
“They… so did Claire and her killer arrive at the same time, or did he or she follow Claire?”
“Don’t know, but you’d think at least one neighbor would have noticed different people around Logan’s house.”
