“We were like sisters,” Samantha said.
“That’s what we heard,” Zach answered.
Before he could say another word, I said, “We’re sorry for your loss. It must have been terrible for you.”
Samantha’s eyes glazed for a few seconds. “It’s the craziest thing. I picked up the phone this morning and started to call her to see if she’d like to run with me. I didn’t even get her answering machine.”
“Her place has been cleaned out,” I said.
“Man, it didn’t take the vultures long to move in, did it?”
“Actually, it was her boss’s idea,” I said. “I was there yesterday helping him go through her things. Evidently he was designated as her executor.”
“Yeah, Barton’s okay with me. He asked me if I wanted anything of hers, but everything I need of Cindy’s, I have.”
I couldn’t help myself. I asked, “What exactly would that be? A sterling silver chain with a cow pendant, perhaps?”
“No, I mean personal things that were between the two of us, like cards she’s given me over the years, and the silliest hat you’ve ever seen. Things like that.”
“Then you don’t know where the necklace might be?”
Samantha frowned. “Barton asked me the same thing. No, I haven’t seen it. Why, is it important?”
“It’s hard to say at this point,” Zach said. “I’m still gathering information.” Zach studied his notebook for a second, and then he asked her, “What exactly was her relationship with her employer?”
I looked oddly at Zach, trying to figure out where that question had come from. He hadn’t even met Barton Lane. Was he really a suspect? I tried to catch his gaze, but he was staring hard at Samantha.
“She loved him.”
“Was there anything romantic about their relationship?” Zach asked.
I started to say something, but Zach offered me a split-second glare that was enough to shut me up.
“Of course not,” Samantha said. “He was like a father to her, in just about every respect. Cindy’s dad took off when she was a kid, and she focused on Barton, but there wasn’t anything creepy about it. He’s a good guy, and he always looked out for her.”
“Fine,” Zach said as he jotted that down. “Then who was she romantically involved with? Would she tell you?”
“Trust me, Chief, if there was a man in her life, I knew about him from the start.”
“Anyone lately?”
Samantha frowned. “That’s a hard question.”
“It shouldn’t be; not if you two were as close as you claim.”
I didn’t like my husband’s tone of voice at all, but I couldn’t say anything to him at the moment. That didn’t mean I couldn’t rip into him once we were alone again.
“We were close, but there was someone she’d been seeing over the past month that she wouldn’t talk about. He was older, and Cindy didn’t want to admit it to me.”
“How much older?”
“I couldn’t say. The age wasn’t the only thing, though. The guy had a high profile in Charlotte, I know that much.”
“But you don’t know anything more than that?”
Samantha looked as though she wanted to cry, and I wanted to step in and stop my husband from what looked like bullying to me, but I knew if I did, Zach would never let me tag along with him again.
“Hang on a second,” she said, and Samantha got up and went into the other room.
Here was my chance.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed at him.
“I’m conducting an official police investigation,” he said. “What does it look like?”
“Do you have to be so mean?”
He looked genuinely shocked by the question. “I have to be gruff and abrupt to let them know that I’m not kidding around here. Two people have been murdered, and for all we know, someone else is next on this murderer’s list. I don’t have time for niceties.”
“Does it really take all that much more time to be civil?”
“Savannah, let me handle this my way.”
I didn’t say anything in response, and we sat in silence until Samantha walked back into the room carrying a newspaper with her. She held it as if it were the Holy Grail.
“What’s that?” Zach asked, and I noticed his tone was just a little nicer. Truthfully, maybe it was just my imagination, but I liked to think I was making a difference.
“Nine days before she died, I was over at Cindy’s, and I saw her staring at a newspaper.”
“That one in particular?” Zach asked as he leaned forward.
“Let me tell this, okay?” Good for her. I was proud that she had some snap to her words.
“Sorry,” Zach said, though it was pretty clear the apology was tepid at best.
“Anyway, we were having breakfast in her kitchen, and I saw her looking at a photo in the Charlotte Observer. When I asked her about it, she said wistfully, ‘Isn’t he handsome?’
“Which one, I asked her, since there were two photographs on that particular page. In one of them, two men were standing on some kind of platform shaking hands. The other was a headshot of a businessman, at least that’s what he looked like to me from the suit he was wearing. Cindy suddenly looked at me as though she’d said too much, and before I could get a better look, she folded the paper, and threw it in the trash. Cindy is a . . . was a demon at recycling, and she never would have thrown that away if she hadn’t been hiding something.”
“So, you dug it out of her trash?”
“Don’t be disgusting. I bought a paper the second I left her, and I found the photos she was pointing out.”
“May I see that?” Zach asked.
Samantha nodded, and handed him the paper. I looked over his shoulder when he opened it, and I saw something that shook me to the core. The photo of the two men together showed Grady and Davis. The other photo showed Hank Tristan, and was accompanied by a story on a business he was building in Ballantyne.
Zach appeared too focused on the photo of Davis and Grady, so I tapped the headshot of Hank Tristan. He nodded, brushing me off, but I didn’t let it bother me. If I’d pointed it out to him first, he’d give me full credit for the discovery. There wasn’t an ounce of macho pride in my husband. He’d publicly thank a nine-year-old girl if she helped him solve a case. Results were all Zach cared about, and that was just one more reason why I loved him.
He started to hand the paper back to Samantha when I said, “Hold on a second.”
“What is it?” my husband asked me.
“Let me see that.”
He handed the paper to me, and as I looked at the photo of the two men, I saw another familiar face standing just behind them. I showed it to Zach and pointed it out. “That’s Steve Sanders, isn’t it?”
Zach studied it a second, and then said, “Yeah, but it’s not much of a photo of him.”
“It’s possible though, isn’t it?”
“I suppose. That was a good spot.” He glanced at the paper, and then at Samantha. “May I keep this?”
“If it helps you find out who killed Cindy, you can have everything I own.”
“Just the paper, at least for now,” Zach said, and offered her a gentle smile. Samantha responded to it with a smile of her own, and I wondered if telling my husband to be nicer to his interview subjects had been the best idea, especially when they were prettier, younger, and skinnier than I was.
Zach stood, and to his credit, my dear husband turned to me and asked, “Is there anything else you’d like to ask?”
“No, you covered everything perfectly.”
Samantha led us to the door, and she lingered there as we left. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. I miss her so much.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said, my heart instantly softening to her. After all, who could blame her for returning one of my husband’s smiles? He was a good-looking guy, after all. “We’ll let you know if we think of anything else.”
As we headed back to the car, I said, “She liked you. You know that, don’t you?”