“Both of them?” Morrisette asked, snapping her gum.
“Very funny. Actually, there were over a hundred in the church, about half that at the interment.”
“Anyone laughing?”
“Nah.” He felt one side of his mouth lift. “You really had it in for that son of a bitch, didn’t you?”
“ ’Course not.”
Leaning back in his chair, he lifted a doubting eyebrow.
Morrisette rolled her eyes. “I didn’t like my friend getting involved with him. Tried to talk her out of it. He was just a little too smooth. You know the type. Bad boy, playboy, rich boy, all rolled into one handsome package. Years ago he would’ve been selling snake oil.”
“That was your friend Molly?”
“Millie, and don’t try to trip me up, okay?” Her face was suddenly hard. “I don’t like being tested. Not by anyone, and especially not you!”
“I was just asking about Bandeaux.”
“Millie was going through a rough time, okay. Bandeaux showed some interest. The way I heard it . . . he was a good time on a Saturday night. But I don’t know from personal experience, so get over it.”
“All right.”
“Now, if you’re done with your sick innuendos, let’s get down to some real police work. I talked with Bandeaux’s secretary earlier this morning. According to her, nothing was out of the ordinary down at the office.”
“You believe her?”
“Don’t know why she’d lie. It’s not like she could get fired for what she says to the cops.” Morrisette picked up a pen from Reed’s desk and clicked it several times. “She didn’t seem that broken up about it. Said she’d already lined up another job. It was a short conversation. She had to get to the funeral.”
“So you had time to go if you wanted to?”
“Not really. I got a call from Diane Moses. Seems that the lab found something interesting in the bloodstains on Bandeaux’s carpet.”
“What?”
“A second type.” She grinned widely.
“Second type?”
“Bandeaux was B-neg. Kinda rare. That’s what most of the blood was, but there were traces of someone else
’s. Human blood. O-positive. So I did a little checkin’ around, called in a favor at the local hospital and guess what I found?”
He was already a step ahead of her. “That the poor widow has O-positive blood.”
“Bingo!”
“Anyone else?”
“That’s where it gets a little muddy. O-pos is common. Especially in the Montgomery family tree. Just about every Montgomery from the grandmother down to the little kid who died had O-positive, and I’m sure that a large portion of the citizens of Savannah do as well. But we can have some DNA work done and that should narrow the field a tad.”
“We’ll cross-match it with everyone associated with the victim. You order the DNA report?”
“Mmhmm. Now . . . all we need is something from Mrs. Bandeaux—a hair or some body fluids—and we’ll be in business.”
“I was going to meet with her anyway.”
“So now you have another reason.”