She looked so young and carefree when she blushed. He resolved to make it happen as often as he could.
“Are you busy tomorrow morning?” she asked.
Sam checked his phone calendar. “I have a morning appointment with a client, but it’s early. I’ll be done by eight thirty. My next appointment isn’t until one in the afternoon. Why?”
“We’re doing two interviews tomorrow that I’d like your help with. One is Munro’s admin. She’s worked for him for fifteen years and we suspect that there’s more to their relationship than just boss/admin.”
“If they were romantically involved, she might be willing to do a lot to shield his crimes,” Sam said thoughtfully.
“Exactly. I’d like you to observe. We’ll test her grief, try to get under her defenses. I want your take on the veracity of what she gives us.”
“Done. What’s the second interview?”
“Ronald Tasker at the prison.”
Sam hated prison visits. He especially hated the thought of visiting Ronald Tasker. But of course he’d go. “You think he’ll talk to you?”
“I don’t know. From what I’ve read about him, he doesn’t respect women. Again, I’m hoping to get under his defenses. He knows something about Munro. Even if it’s only how Munro makes these under-the-table deals, that would be helpful. We talked to William Weaver tonight. I think he knows more than he’s saying, but he got the information in a less than legal way. He’s determined to stick to the straight and narrow now since he had such apleasantexperience with SDPD last time.”
The sarcasm rang heavy in her voice, surprising Sam. “You believe Weaver’s innocent?”
“I don’t know. But if he is, his life’s been ruined for no reason other than Munro’s lust for power.”
“Such a small fiefdom, too,” Sam said. “It’s not like Munro was a U.S. senator. He was a city councilman, for God’s sake.”
“But he was apparently making a buttload of cash somewhere, and that’s something he didn’t want to give up. I’m hoping Munro’s admin can shed some light on where the cash was coming from. Can we pick you up at eight forty-five? Does that give you enough time after your client?”
“I’ll be ready. Now, let’s go inside so you can eat your dinner and I can stop Miss Eloise from giving Rita her pot brownie recipe.”
City Hall, San Diego, California
Monday, January 9, 9:30 a.m.
Tall, blond, and willowy, Munro’s office admin looked an awful lot like Wilhelmina Munro, Kit thought as she, Connor, and Sam filed into the woman’s office.
Veronica Fitzgerald’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Either she had the world’s worst allergies or she’d been crying for a long time. She’d tried to cover up the damage with elegantly applied makeup but had been largely unsuccessful.
Veronica sat at her desk and rested her folded hands on its surface. “How can I help you today?”
She’d flinched when she’d been introduced to Sam. It appeared that the woman remembered that Sam had visited Munro, even though the meeting had taken place at Munro’s house. And, from her reaction, she might just fear what Sam had said about the meeting.
Good.Kit wanted Veronica off her stride.
Kit smiled. “We have a few questions about Mr.Munro’s business associates.”
Veronica lifted one heavily tweezed brow. “He’s a city councilman, Detective. He interfaces with many businesses around the city. To which associates do you refer?”
“Hewasa city councilman,” Kit said, playing bad cop to the hilt.
It worked. Veronica flinched again.
“No need to be cruel, Detective,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kit said, and on some level she was. Veronica Fitzgerald had clearly cared for Munro.
Veronica glared. “Get to the point of this visit.”
“I told you. We’re here to ask about your former boss’s business associates.” Kit took out her phone and opened theNotes app. “City council wasn’t Munro’s only job. He spent too much money for that.”