A Good Marriage(49)

Except an accountant meant money, and money was another reason people were killed.

“Do you have that accountant’s name?” I asked.

“I might.” Sarah pushed to her feet. “I’d have to check my office. I’ll be right back.”

I stood once Sarah had gone, taking the opportunity alone for a quick look around Amanda’s office. Like at the house, there were shelves filled with pictures, but these were fantastic candids, almost all of Case. There was one posed shot of Amanda, Case, and Zach, but it was up on a high shelf and off to the side, as though kept deliberately out of sight. As I turned to check out the shelves over Amanda’s desk, I spotted a black Moleskine journal on top of a stack of papers in the corner. It looked like the fancy blank one I’d found at the house. Maybe Amanda’s most recent one. I could already hear Sarah’s heels clicking back down the polished concrete hallway. I lunged over the desk, grabbed the journal, and shoved it in my bag. My chair squeaked as I banged back down. Luckily, Sarah didn’t seem to notice when she reentered the office. She was too flustered herself.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I have no idea where I put the accountant’s name.”

“That’s okay. I can get it from Zach,” I said, willing myself to look calm as I pressed on with my questions. “How did Amanda seem at Maude’s party the night she died?”

Died, not killed. I’d been practicing swapping out the terms. Admit nothing, not even the most basic facts. It was the first rule of criminal procedure.

“Oh, um, she seemed fine,” Sarah said. “She looked beautiful as always. I’m sure you’ve seen pictures. She was a woman that people gawked at. If you’re looking for alternative theories, I would look into that. There are a lot of perverts in the world.” She looked disgusted. “There are whole porn subgenres devoted to it.”

I nodded. But somebody with a crush was not the kind of alternate theory that would be useful. Juries wanted specifics. Something, someone, they could sink their teeth into. Anything else was too much like saying the bogeyman did it; you couldn’t put him behind bars.

“The two of you spoke at the party?”

“Only for a minute, and mostly about Maude—she was really worried about her daughter. So Amanda and I were worried about her.”

“What’s wrong with her daughter?”

“She’s a teenager at camp. What isn’t wrong with her?” Sarah said dismissively. “Maude’s not used to it, that’s all. She got some dramatic letters and panicked. I’m sure it’s fine now. Then again, we’ve all had more important things to think about.”

“Did you see Amanda talking to anyone else?”

“No, but I got all wrapped up talking to this Brooklyn Country Day mom who I barely even know—who I definitely don’t even like—about the Great Email Debacle.”

“Email debacle?” I asked.

“Somebody’s been hacking into the computers of the Brooklyn Country Day parents, using their dirty laundry against them.” She hesitated again and pressed her lips together. “Like Terry’s Bench, for instance. You know, the Tinder for married people? A bunch of husbands had their account info emailed to their wives, which makes that hacker Robin Hood as far as I’m concerned. There’s that and all the naked selfies that have been stolen. Oh, yes, and porn. Buckets of porn people are getting blackmailed for.” She laughed in a sharp burst. “Anyway, this was all supposed to be secret because the school’s investigating. But that night at the party, everyone got drunk and started spilling. Maybe if I’d been with Amanda instead of listening to all that stupid gossip, she’d be alive.”

“Do you remember what time it was when you last saw Amanda at the party?”

Sarah wiped at her eyes and sniffed. “Let’s see, I got there around eight thirty, and I was home by nine thirty. So sometime in there.”

Suspiciously short was the first thing that jumped to mind. “That’s not very long.”

“I know.” Sarah sounded annoyed. “My oldest was supposed to be in the Hamptons for six weeks. That turned into six days after some fight with his girlfriend. Anyway, he didn’t have house keys, and Thursday nights my husband is out angling to break a hip. Believe me, I never would have left the party if my son hadn’t called. Nothing is better than watching to see who uses the ‘upstairs’ at Maude’s parties. Everyone’s so hush-hush after. If you want to know, you have to be there yourself. I’m in awe of couples whose marriages are that adventurous. Like Maude and Sebe. They could walk through fire naked together and not get burned.”

“Did you see Zach at the party?” I asked.

“I chatted with him for a second,” Sarah said. “He was skulking at the edges of the party and then he left.”

“Did you actually see him leave?”

“No, but I’m assuming … I didn’t see him again.”

“And you didn’t see either Zach or Amanda go upstairs?”

“Please.” Sarah laughed. “You should have seen Amanda’s face when she heard about it. She actually looked like she was going to faint.”

“And Zach?”

Sarah’s eyes went hard. “He’s your client.”