Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [94]
“There’s no mistake, Ms. Hall. I’m sorry. Could you come with us, please? We have a few questions.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
“I’m not sure I like this idea.” Sean leaned back in his chair, frowning.
“Dana will be with me. I swear, Sean, I am not going to do anything stupid. Especially after Marian’s service this morning.” Amanda gave her head a quick shake.
The church service had been short and not especially sweet, and it had been apparent that Marian’s niece was merely going through the expected motions. The graveside service had been closed to all but family—meaning the niece—leaving all of Marian’s friends and colleagues in Broeder feeling slightly, well, slighted. So while the niece and the minister stood at the grave, old friends gathered in Marian’s favorite restaurant for a long lunch during which they laughed and cried together while trading favorite memories of the deceased.
“It was just like an old-fashioned Irish wake,” Amanda told Sean. “And after seeing everyone this morning, well, I just want to get back to work. I want to open my shop again. I need to do something besides sit around Greer’s house, as I did all day yesterday, or have Dana trailing after me in the grocery store.”
“She’s going to be trailing after you, regardless.”
“Yeah, well, she has a job to do, and so do I.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. Dana is waiting for me outside. And yes, before you ask, she’s right at the door.”
“I guess I’ll see you at dinner, then. I’m thinking we should maybe go out tonight, seeing as Steve will be home from his trip. He and Greer might like some time alone.” He paused, considering. “Of course, they have been married for a long time. Maybe it’s no big deal. . . .”
Amanda laughed. “Maybe it is. Dinner out sounds like a good idea. I’ll just come back here with Dana, then, when I close up the shop for the day. I can’t wait till this is over, though, and I can just hop in my car and go where I want without checking in with you. No offense.”
“None taken.”
She left his office, and he went to the door to watch her walk down the hall.
“Amanda,” he called after her.
When she turned to him, he said, “Do I have to say, ‘Let me know if anything seems out of place’ or ‘Call me if anyone’s hanging around’?”
“No, you don’t have to say any of those things.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He heard the front door clang closed, then went to the window and watched the car until it was a speck at the end of the road, feeling just a little anxious. He’d never admit it, but he didn’t believe that anyone would keep as close an eye on Amanda as he would. Thinking about there being someone out there who wanted to kill her unsettled him in ways that were beyond his experience. He’d cared about victims before—of course he had—but never on this level, never to this degree, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with what he was feeling or what to do about it. He figured that maybe, at this point, just keeping her alive was a damned good start.
He walked back to his office thinking that it was a little frightening to realize that caring about someone gave her power over you. He wondered if Amanda had a clue as to just how powerful she was.
It was twenty after four when Sean’s phone buzzed.
“Chief Benson from the Carleton P.D. is on line three for you, Sean,” Joyce announced.
“Thanks.” Sean hit the button for line three. “Bob, how are you?”
“Good, good, Sean. How are things in Broeder?”
“All right. No complaints.”
“Glad to hear it.” Benson paused for a moment, then said, “Sean, we had a shooting here Saturday night. Hairdresser closing up her shop apparently was surprised by a robber. Shot and killed her, clean as a whistle.”
“I heard about that.”
“Ran the bullet through Drugfire. There was a match.” He paused. “You want to take a guess on what it matched up with?”
“I don’t have a clue.”
“Your antiques dealer who got shot a few weeks back? Same gun killed my hairdresser, Sean.”
“Same gun . .