Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(10)

“I need you to check the time on that.”

She dragged the diaper bag into her lap and pulled out a black cell phone. “Eight forty-two. The call was four minutes.”

Sean opened his notebook and jotted down the time. They hadn’t recovered Samantha’s phone, which made Sean wonder if the killer had been in communication with her and stolen the phone to cover his tracks.

“Take me through that conversation. Did she call you?”

Amy took a deep breath. She flipped her phone over and seemed to collect herself as she clutched the tissue that was already disintegrating.

“I called Sam. She was on her way home from work. I asked her to come over for coffee.” Amy closed her eyes again. “I needed to talk to her.”

“And where was she when you called?”

“In her car. She told me she’d just closed up. The place she works, it closes at eight, but she has to clean everything, refill the condiments and napkin dispensers, all that side work. It takes about forty minutes.”

“And did she say she would come over or . . . ?”

“Yes. I mean, that was the impression I got. I don’t remember exactly, but the call got cut off and she never came.”

“Cut off?”

“It dropped. At least, that’s what I thought.” A pained look came over Amy’s face. “You think maybe . . . someone else hung up on me?”

“I don’t know.” Sean watched her eyes. “What do you think?”

“I . . . I’m not sure. Sam has a cheap phone. It’s always cutting out and dropping calls.” Amy shook her head. “I texted her after, and that’s when Aiden started crying—he woke up with another earache, and I got sidetracked. He gets them all the time. The doctor said he should have tubes put in, but we haven’t done that.”

“Could you write down that phone number for me?”

“Sam’s number?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sean slid his pad across the table and she scribbled down a number.

“And how long have you known Sam?”

“Only a year. But we talk almost every day. Sometimes twice. She’s my sponsor. You know, AA.”

So, Brooke was right. “And how was she doing with the program?”

Amy snorted. “Better than me.”

“Do you know if she had any problems besides alcohol? Any drugs?”

She shook her head. “Not Sam.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Sean didn’t know how she could be so certain, but he wanted to move on, so he flipped to a clean page in his book. “Do you know if Sam has any family living in town?” They’d had trouble locating her next of kin.

“I don’t know. If she did, she never said anything, and I think she would have.”

“And did she have any children?”

“No.” Amy dabbed her nose with the tissue. “She’s never been married.”

That wasn’t what he’d asked, but he let it go. “Are there kids she liked to spend time with?”

“Well, she spends time with Aiden.”

He nodded. “Any others? Maybe kids of neighbors or friends from AA? Anyone she babysat?”

Amy shook her head, looking confused now. “Why?”

“We’re trying to get a picture.”

“Sam loves kids. She’s great with them. Was.” Amy closed her eyes. “She went trick-or-treating with us this year.”

Sean waited, watching her. He’d become an expert at reading people, and this woman looked genuinely shocked by everything. And she hadn’t been evasive with his questions.

“Was Sam having trouble with anyone that you know about?”

Amy shook her head.

“Was she dating anyone?”

“No.”

“Seeing anyone casually?”

The door opened and Callie poked her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Detective.” She gave him a too-sweet smile and then looked at Amy. “Someone brought in doughnuts this morning. Is it all right if Aiden has one?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

Callie disappeared, and Amy looked at him. “Sam didn’t have a boyfriend. Not since I’ve known her. Guys were always hitting on her, but she wasn’t into it.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

“You think she had a problem with someone in her past?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Amy tipped her head to the side. “I always thought she had some skeletons in the closet, but doesn’t everyone?”

Sean didn’t answer that.

“Come to an AA meeting, if you don’t believe me.” Amy shook her head, and he got a glimpse of some resilience underneath all the tears.

“What about family connections?”

“I think she mentioned her mom once, but it wasn’t like they were close.”

Amy flipped her phone over and looked at the time. “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to work soon.” She rubbed her forehead. “God, I really need to go to a meeting.”

“Where do you work?”

“The Cotton Gin. My shift starts at two.” She stood up, and Sean stood, too. “Can we finish this later if you have more questions?”