Page 61 of Last Seen Alive
Mona sniffed derision. “Surely you can’t think I’m in any way involved with this girl’s murder. I don’t even know who she is.”
Amanda nodded, offered a pressed-lip smile and stood. She withdrew a business card and handed it to Mona. “Call if you think of anything that may aid us in finding your late husband’s killer, Mrs.Lawson.” Best to revert to Martin’s case than poke more about Claire.
She and Trent made the inquiry of Ingrid before leaving the house, and she backed up what Mona had told them—she was at home when Claire was murdered.
Back in the car, Amanda did up her seat belt. “She wasn’t fazed at all by her husband leaving the event that night. Even when you brought up there was no record of Martin receiving a phone call.”
“She made it sound like business always came first to him, but it’s possible he was alerted to a need to go in by someone at the event or via the host’s phone.” Trent shook his head at his latter words. “Though the file didn’t indicate that.”
“The lead investigator may not have thought of that avenue. But you brought up a good theory. Was it a setup? If only there was a way to get a list of everyone in attendance at that charity event.”
“I can see what I can find out from the file. The lead detective on the Lawson case is long retired.”
“We could always ask Mona if it comes to that. She could point us in the organizer’s direction.”
“In the meantime, we can ask Rita’s husband and Michelle about a man Claire might have hung around.”
“At some point soon, it might be good to talk with Claire’s foster parents too. The ones who had her just before she aged out of the system.”
“Sounds like we have a lot of talking to do.” Trent smiled.
“Yes, and watching… Doubt you started on the hotel surveillance video yet?”
“Didn’t even pop the USB drive into my computer.”
Amanda glanced at the clock on the dash.4:55 PM.They had all these avenues to explore, including hours of surveillance video, but none of them were quick checks off the list. Graves approving more overtime was unlikely, and sometimes it was helpful to get a fresh start. “How about we call it a day? That work for you?” She was thinking she’d get home in time to have pizza night with Zoe.
“Sure. We’ll pick up in the morning. But I just had another thought.”
She was almost afraid to ask what it was.
Trent went on. “The victims of these heists were high profile, millionaires. Claire used to work for an art gallery and, yes, I know she was young when she started, but did she get roped into this world during that time?”
“Could have… The dark web is one way for buyers and sellers of fine art and antiquities to connect, but…”
“The art gallery could have been the perfect spot to find buyers who were a little more, let’s say, unscrupulous.”
She nodded. “Most clients would be interested in the provenance, as Mona mentioned, but maybe not everyone. Definitely an avenue worth exploring. Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.” He smiled at her as he pulled into the lot for Central.
They said good night to each other and went their separate ways. Amanda had Logan on Bluetooth in her Civic before she was pulling onto the street. She asked him about any other men in Claire’s life.
“None that I remember.”
“Okay, well if someone comes to mind after we hang up, call me.”
“Sure.” There was silence, but it was filled with hope. She thought of inviting him for pizza night, but it might be confusing for Zoe, and she couldn’t ignore the fact Logan was currently facing murder charges on the investigation she was working. She wished him a good night and headed home.
TWENTY-THREE
It was going to be the biggest take of her life to date—if she could pull it off. She knew by now that the easiest way to get the job done was to exploit the weakest link. It wasn’t hard to ascertain that was Larry Belt, head janitor at Lawson Investments.
He was seated three rows in front of her on the bus, his destination a matter of routine.
She’d followed him for a few nights already, and the evening always played out the same way: Larry going for a drink or five before heading to work to start at midnight. She usually stayed at a distance, but tonight she was going to get close. The thought grossed her out—he was in his fifties and she was only twenty-one. Him with a pot belly and her a firm body. But the job came first. It always did.
There were times she dared to imagine a different life for herself, but the images were never fully formed. They were always just out of focus. Besides, what would she do if not this? Heists were all she knew since she met Nick, but she’d probably go to her grave wealthy. So there was that.
