Conspiracy

24

Amanda Rauci clutched her fingers together, trying to stave off the urge to put another mint Life Saver in her mouth.

They were a dead giveaway that she had been drinking in the middle of the day.

Bloodshot eyes weren’t exactly camouflage, either, but there was nothing she could do about those.

“The director will see you now,” said the secretary.

Amanda nodded, and rose from her seat. Despite her earlier resolution, she reached into her bag and took out a mint, popping it into her mouth before entering Frey’s office.

“Please sit down,” said Frey.

The icy tone told her everything. She forced a smile to her face as she pushed one of the modernistic seats up close to the director’s desk. The chair felt uncomfortable, oversized; Amanda’s feet didn’t reach the floor. She bit the candy she’d just put in her mouth, swallowing the tiny pieces in a single gulp.

“I can’t believe you would hinder an investigation by withholding important information,” said Frey. “I can’t believe it.”

Amanda said nothing.

“Why? Why didn’t you say anything? Surely you knew Jerry was dead.”

“What was there to say?”

“When did you last see him?” Frey asked.

“A few nights before he died.”

“During your vacation?”

“Before my vacation started.”

“Was he depressed?”

Amanda shook her head.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Frey again. “Didn’t you think it was relevant?”

Because if she said anything, then it would be real. Then he would be gone, really, utterly, truly gone. And she was gone as well.

“Where were you the night Jerry died?”

“I was at a hotel, waiting for him.”

“Waiting for him? Where?”

“A few miles from… I guess… where…” She had to stop to control the sobs. How much was she going to tell Frey? Everything? Or just part?

Part. What ever she could get out before despair took over.

“We spoke,” Amanda said. “He told me to wait. I was in the bar awhile. I was there, I guess, when he—” Sobs erupted from her chest so violently that she shook and couldn’t continue.

Frey offered no sympathy. “That’s it?” She nodded. Clearly if she told him she’d been there—

God, if she told him she’d been there, he’d have her charged with murder.

“You still have vacation days left?” asked the director.

Amanda formed her fingers into fists, then ground them into her cheeks to stop the tears and sobs. “Yes,” she managed.

“Then take them. Hand in your credentials, and your weapon. Leave them here.”

“I’m suspended?”

“What do you think?”