Page 60 of Don't Say a Word
“Your brother must have called you.”
It wasn’t a question so I didn’t comment.
“I’m at police headquarters,” Rachel said, “if you’d like to come in.”
“What do you need to discuss?”
I was playing dumb and she knew it and it irritated her. I smiled, enjoying the conversation.
“I have questions about your relationship with Lena Clark.”
“I don’t have a relationship.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You should be more specific. What do you want to know?”
“I’d like to talk face-to-face. I’ll be here until four.”
“If you’re going to insist on speaking to me in person, I’ll be at my office in ten minutes. I don’t know how long I’ll be there, but I’m happy to answer any questions you have.”
“It would be better if you came here.”
“Not going to happen. It’s your case, I’m willing to help, but I’m not going to jump through hoops and pay for overpriced parking to make it easier for you.”
“Fine,” she said, more than a little irritated now. “I’ll be there at three thirty.”
“Great,” I said, but she’d already hung up.
Yes, I definitely knew how to make friends and influence people.
Unfortunately, meeting with Rachel King would delay me tracking down Danielle Duran.
When I arrived at the office, no one was there except Iris.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Tess and Theo went to the courthouse to pull files, and Jack is serving a subpoena. Your mom is meeting with Carmen de la Rosa about a retainer contract with her firm.”
Carmen de la Rosa was a shark of an attorney. I had worked for her a few times over the years. I didn’t have retainers with anyone, but my mom was a better business manager than me. Retainers meant steady income, but once you were on retainer, you couldn’t turn down work because you didn’t like the assignment—which is why I didn’t accept retainers.
I hope my mom knew what she was getting into with Carmen. I also wondered where she was with the potential capitol case we might be working.
“Aren’t you supposed to be out of here by now?” I asked. Iris generally left by 2:30 p.m. because two of her kids—a freshman and senior at the same Catholic school we had all gone to—gotout at three. They were in a bunch of activities. Her oldest was in college.
“Maddie is auditioning for the Christmas musical, so JJ will drive her home after football practice. But I’m on my way out—it’ll be nice to go to the grocery store without having to rush.”
She left, and I sat at my desk and looked through our shared drive at the background reports for pending employees at Logan Monroe’s resort. Tess had already confirmed all information that could be confirmed by phone or online, but left a note that one of us needed to drive up to Prescott to talk to a reference who hadn’t been reachable. Maybe I’d have time tomorrow or Thursday. It had to be done by Friday. It was a nice drive, but would take me half the day to get there and back. But since Tess had done everything else and was hosting mom’s birthday party, I sent her a note that I’d go to Prescott.
At quarter to four, Detective King walked in, solo. I had considered leaving at 3:31 p.m., but figured that was petty.
I walked out of my office and said, “Detective King?” I had no intention of bringing her into my office so she could snoop, so I offered, “Water? Soda?”
“I’m fine,” she said brusquely. “I just have a few questions.”
I plopped down on one of the waiting area couches. “Shoot.”
She hesitated, then sat across from me. Made a point to take out her notepad, flip through the pages.
