Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [44]
“We only have your word of that.”
Color flushed her cheeks. “I’m not used to being called a liar.” She gathered her things to leave. “I don’t like it.”
“I’m not calling you a liar, Ms. Crosby, but the truth is, I don’t know what happened that night.”
“Neither do I. But it seems to me that you’re spending an awful lot of time trying to fit me into the scenario when you could be looking for the real killer.”
“We have every available officer working on this case, looking for leads. Actually, that’s why I’m here tonight.”
She stopped near the door and turned. He was closer behind her than she’d expected him to be. Somehow he looked bigger, more formidable, in jeans and a shirt than he did in his uniform. She took a short step back without realizing she’d done so.
“You mentioned that Derek told you he had a buyer for the goblet. Have you given any thought who that might have been?”
“Yes, and I haven’t been able to come up with anyone. You’d think that if someone was waiting for it, they’d call and ask me about it. Unfortunately, I don’t know who all his clients were.”
“His clients? I thought you co-owned the business.”
“We are—were—equal partners. But we each had some of our own clients, people for whom we shopped for specific items. For example, I have several customers who like certain kinds of art pottery. When I go to sales, I’ll look for pieces I know they don’t have and would want. I know they’ll buy what I bring them. Derek was the same. There are some who deal directly with him.”
“But you don’t have a list of his customers.”
“No. I know he kept an address book. And I can go through the Rolodex. Maybe he made some comments on some of the cards. You know, Has no conscience, is willing to buy black market—that sort of thing. I can make a list for you.”
“Call me when you get it together. I’m going to want to talk to everyone on that list as soon as possible.”
“Or maybe . . .” She hesitated. “Maybe Derek kept some of the information on the computer.”
“Mr. Lehmann said Derek didn’t own a computer.”
“He didn’t. He used my laptop when he came into the shop. He kept his sales records on disks.”
“Where’s your laptop now?”
“In my car. But the disks are at the shop.”
“Can I stop by and pick them up tomorrow? I have a few appointments in the morning, but I’ll be free around four.”
“Just in time for tea.” She smiled weakly. “I’ll look over the names and see if any of them stand out for any reason.”
“Great. I guess we’re done here, then?” He paused in the doorway.
“Yes. If you’d just snap off the light . . . thanks.”
They walked down the dimly lit hall together, their shoes making tiny squeaky sounds on the tile floor.
“I stopped in to see your old friend Lowell this morning.”
“You did?” She frowned. “When were you going to tell me that?”
“I just did.”
They had reached the front entrance. Sean waved to the guard as he held the door open for Amanda. He followed her through it.
“And . . . ?”
“I’ll tell you the truth, there was an odd vibe there. At first, he seemed genuinely shocked when I told him that it was starting to look like someone was stalking you.”
“Maybe he was acting.”
“You’ve met Archer Lowell. You think he’s that good an actor?”
“You have a point. Where does the odd vibe come in?”
“All of a sudden, it was like he had a little light go on someplace.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. And as slow as he is . . .”
“Any little bit of light looks like a beacon.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, what was it you said that might have set that off?”
“I’m not sure.” Sean stopped at the back of her car while she unlocked it. “We were talking about the roses and how the public had not been informed that he’d left roses at your house. He says he never told anyone that he’d done that.”
“You believe him?”
“Not really.”
“Then again, maybe he just got a thrill thinking about me again,” she said dryly.
“Not to disappoint you, but he doesn’t seem all that interested in you anymore.”
“Shucks. Ya think there’s another woman in his life now?”
“Well, you