Page 68 of Isla

"Do you have a second to chat?" I ask Ms. Johnson, smiling.

"Of course, as long as I can ask you questions, too."

I nod and smile, leading her into the hallway where we can have a bit of privacy.

"Did you know everyone at this party before today?"

"No."

"Who did you know?"

"You, your husband, your father, and his wife," she says softly.

"How did you know my father?" I ask, curious.

"We have had ties up until last year. He would donate to my campaign."

"What happened last year?"

"He decided to run for my position."

Ah. "And how did that affect your relationship with him?" I ask, becoming increasingly suspicious.

"Negatively."

"How so?"

"I haven't talked to him since he told me."

"Did he have a chance of taking your position? Had any polls been done?"

She winces. "A poll last week showed him ahead by 9 points."

I suck air through my teeth. Well, if that's not damning, I don't know what is. "Those are all the questions I have," I say, writing the details down. Could she have crawled under the table when the power went out?

"You were sitting next to Mr. Astor, correct?" Ms. Johnson asks.

"Correct."

"And you're his daughter?"

"Correct."

"Were you happy when he remarried?"

"No," I admit.

"Why not?"

"I felt like Camila was marrying him for his money."

"There was no prenup?" she asks, her eyebrows jumping up her forehead.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"What about a will?"

"Yes, I was with my father when he made his will," I say, shifting on my feet. She sure has a lot of questions.

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