“How nice to see you again, Mrs. Bernard. Having some car trouble?”
The woman spun around. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Ignoring her, Joanna walked past both Amy Bernard and the service guy. She stopped in front of the car and made a show of studying the dent in the grille and the broken headlight. “Looks as though you’ve had a little fender bender here,” she said. “Have you reported it?”
“Of course I have,” Amy returned indignantly. “I was out driving alone the other night and hit a deer out on the highway between here and Oracle. I reported the accident to both the police and to my insurance company yesterday morning. But you still haven’t said why you’re here.”
“Do you happen to have a cell phone with you?” Joanna asked.
Amy Bernard’s blue eyes narrowed ominously. “Yes. Why?”
“Because I thought you might want to have Mr. Stouffer present, Mrs. Bernard. Detective Carbajal here and I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“You can’t do that.”
“You’d be surprised at what I can do, Mrs. Bernard,” Joanna said quietly. “I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Dora Matthews. And as for the car,” she added, turning to the astonished service rep who stood frozen in place, “I’ve requested a search warrant for that vehicle. The actual search warrant won’t be here until later, but as soon as it’s available, I’m having it faxed to me here. Until it arrives, no one is to touch that vehicle.”
“Wait just a minute!” Amy Bernard’s smoothly made-up face screwed itself into a knot of fury. “I brought my car in here to have it fixed, and it’s going to be fixed.”
“No,” Joanna said simply. “It’s not. I believe this vehicle contains evidence of a homicide,” she said to the service rep, who now had the presence of mind to step away from the two women and their heated exchange of words. “It’s to be left alone. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. The name on his uniform was Nick. He looked to be about twelve years old and scared to death.
Apparently, even then, Amy Bernard didn’t believe the rules applied to her. Springing forward like a cat, she wrested the clip board out of the service rep’s hands and tore off the identification tag with the keys still attached. Stuffing the keys into her pocket, she put one hand deep inside the shiny leather bag that dangled from one shoulder.
Before either Joanna or Jaime could stop her, she stepped behind the hapless Nick. “I’ve got a gun,” she announced ominously. “II’ you don’t want this guy to get hurt, you’ll let us drive out of here.”
“Where to?” Joanna asked. “How far do you think you’ll get? Do you want to add kidnapping charges to everything else?”
“You’re never going to prove anything,” Amy said, shoving the reluctant Nick ahead of her toward the driver’s side of the Lexus.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Joanna said. “Anything you say may be held against you. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, an—”
“Shut up!” Amy screamed. “Just shut up.”
“Please, lady,” Nick stammered. “I don’t know what this is about, but—”
“Get in the car,” she ordered. “Now!”
Prodding Nick forward with her purse, she pushed him as far as the front door of the Lexus. Then she slipped into the car ahead of him. She scrambled over the center console while pulling him behind her. Once they were both inside, she locked the doors.
“Get in the van, Jaime,” Joanna ordered. “If she tries to drive out of here, stop her.”
A man in a white shirt and tie emerged from the service office. “What’s going on here?” he demanded.
“Get on the loudspeaker and clear this area,” Joanna told him, waving her badge in front of
