Niki spoke first. “I wanted to ask you if you had any updates on Gavin’s Ford Bronco. We’re having some difficulty locating it.”

“I haven’t seen it since…Well, it’s been probably a month or two, but I don’t know where he keeps it.”

“Where was it when you last saw it?” Matty asked.

“I suppose it was in his garage.”

Niki and Matty had watched the video of Amy’s jail conversation with Gavin, so they knew she was putting on a show.

“The thing is…” Matty flipped through a small notebook. “Last time we were here, you told us that he didn’t own it anymore. You said…” Matty stopped flipping and read. “Here it is. You said, ‘He used to own one some time ago, but he sold it.’ Now you’re saying you saw it a month ago in his garage?”

Amy looked at the floor near her left foot, her brow furrowing as she searched for a response. Her tells were easy to spot. “I don’t remember saying that. I mean, I don’t keep tabs on Gavin, so I can’t tell you anything about his vehicles. He and I, we see each other sometimes—not a lot, not enough that I know what’s going on with his cars. I know he’s working and stuff, but, like…what he buys or sells, I don’t keep tabs on that kind of thing. But I do seem to recall seeing his Bronco lately, now that I’ve had time to think about it—although I couldn’t say for sure.”

Again with the filibuster.

Niki said, “What can you tell us about his photography business?”

“Oh, he loves photography. Started taking pictures when he was just a boy.”

“Does he get hired a lot?” Matty asked. He already knew the answer because he had seen Gavin’s bank accounts. Gavin didn’t bring in more than thirty grand a year as a photographer. The nice house he lived in was one that Richard Balentine’s money bought for him.

“I suppose so. I can’t really say. Like I said, I don’t keep tabs on him.”

Matty said, “But you still support him—financially—isn’t that right?”

“Support him? I don’t know…”

“You put money in his bank account every year?”

Amy put her hands together on her lap, one cupping the other. “I give him an allowance of sorts. I have means, you know.”

“An allowance?” Matty said. “According to his bank records, you gave him over two hundred thousand dollars last year. I wish my parents gave me that kind of allowance.” Matty chuckled to keep the mood light, but Amy didn’t seem to find it funny.

“Like I said, Detective, I have means.”

Niki said, “I understand you have a swimming pool. Do a lot of houses around here have pools?”

“I don’t think so. We’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Could we see it?” Matty asked. “I love pools. Always wanted one, but…you know.” He shrugged and grinned. “A cop’s salary.”

“I…suppose so.” Amy stood. “It’s this way.”

They walked through a kitchen big enough to quarter an army. Beyond that, Amy led them through a set of French doors and onto a concrete patio.