impress us with your expensive manicures and fancy clothes, it makes me suspicious.”
“You’re just jealous,” Catherine fires back. “I can see why—what, with those chewed, ragged things you call nails. And I’ll bet you don’t have a single designer piece in your wardrobe, do you? Of course, you don’t, because they don’t make them in your size. And if you want to make that stuff you are wearing work better, take a little hint from me, honey. One word: Spanx.”
I know that saying nothing at this point will be taking the high road. However, Catherine has managed to hit one of my most sensitive buttons, so I go crawling in the mud, instead. “Your designer duds won’t do you much good in prison,” I snap. “There everyone wears the same thing, an orange jumpsuit. It’s a color that’s really going to clash with that ‘trailer park’ eye shadow you’re wearing.”
Catherine looks at Hurley and sighs heavily. “I really, really don’t like her.”
“She does have a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t she?” he says. And then, since Catherine’s patience is clearly wearing dangerously thin, Hurley tries to placate her. “I apologize for my partner’s impolite questioning. I’m sure she meant no offense.”
The hell I didn’t!
“And if you don’t mind, I just need to ask you a few more questions about Jack’s money.”
“Like what?” Catherine huffs with impatience.
“Like where it is,” Hurley says. “We know he won a large chunk of change at the casino a few months ago. But if he has any of it left, we can’t find it. There’s no money in his house, and the only bank account we can find has about twenty grand in it.”
Catherine’s expression of annoyance is replaced with one of confusion. “His money is gone?” she says. Her voice quavers.
Hurley nods grimly. “Gone, as in ‘missing’ rather than ‘spent’—at least as far as we can tell.”
Catherine looks genuinely stricken for the first time during our interview. She grabs her gloves up from the table and starts pulling at the fingers, as if she’s trying to milk them. After several long seconds of this figurative and literal hand-wringing, she fixes on Hurley and says, “I think I’m done here.” She stands, dons the gloves, and asks, “Am I free to go?”
Hurley sighs and nods.
“If you have any other questions for me, you can direct them to my lawyer.” With that, she struts from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Hurley and I sit there in silence for a moment before I say, “Interesting reaction.”
“Yes, it certainly was.”
“Sorry if I pissed you off by jumping in.”
He smiles. “I’m not pissed, not at all. In fact, I’m rather pleased. You played a perfect round of good cop/bad cop. And it was fun watching the two of you go at it. Nice job on the London thing, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I bask for a couple of seconds and then say, “She looked genuinely shocked by the knowledge that Jack’s money is missing.”
“Or angry.”
“Because we suspect she might have taken it?”
“Maybe,” Hurley says, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Or she’s angry because someone else beat her to it.”
Chapter 6
Next up on our list of interviews is Jack’s housekeeper, Serena Vasquez. But thanks to Catherine’s abrupt departure, we have some time to kill since it’s just past eight-thirty and we don’t need to be at Serena’s until eleven. I call Izzy, and after filling him in on our aborted interview with Catherine, I ask if he needs me at the office. He informs me the morgue is thankfully empty of fresh bodies.
“I’m waiting on a few things from Arnie and catching up on some paperwork,” Izzy says. “You can come into the office and spend time studying, or you can stay there at the station and hang with Hurley if you want, watch what they do with their investigations.”
I’ve had plenty of opportunities to study lately. The office library has tons of tomes
“You’re just jealous,” Catherine fires back. “I can see why—what, with those chewed, ragged things you call nails. And I’ll bet you don’t have a single designer piece in your wardrobe, do you? Of course, you don’t, because they don’t make them in your size. And if you want to make that stuff you are wearing work better, take a little hint from me, honey. One word: Spanx.”
I know that saying nothing at this point will be taking the high road. However, Catherine has managed to hit one of my most sensitive buttons, so I go crawling in the mud, instead. “Your designer duds won’t do you much good in prison,” I snap. “There everyone wears the same thing, an orange jumpsuit. It’s a color that’s really going to clash with that ‘trailer park’ eye shadow you’re wearing.”
Catherine looks at Hurley and sighs heavily. “I really, really don’t like her.”
“She does have a way of getting under your skin, doesn’t she?” he says. And then, since Catherine’s patience is clearly wearing dangerously thin, Hurley tries to placate her. “I apologize for my partner’s impolite questioning. I’m sure she meant no offense.”
The hell I didn’t!
“And if you don’t mind, I just need to ask you a few more questions about Jack’s money.”
“Like what?” Catherine huffs with impatience.
“Like where it is,” Hurley says. “We know he won a large chunk of change at the casino a few months ago. But if he has any of it left, we can’t find it. There’s no money in his house, and the only bank account we can find has about twenty grand in it.”
Catherine’s expression of annoyance is replaced with one of confusion. “His money is gone?” she says. Her voice quavers.
Hurley nods grimly. “Gone, as in ‘missing’ rather than ‘spent’—at least as far as we can tell.”
Catherine looks genuinely stricken for the first time during our interview. She grabs her gloves up from the table and starts pulling at the fingers, as if she’s trying to milk them. After several long seconds of this figurative and literal hand-wringing, she fixes on Hurley and says, “I think I’m done here.” She stands, dons the gloves, and asks, “Am I free to go?”
Hurley sighs and nods.
“If you have any other questions for me, you can direct them to my lawyer.” With that, she struts from the room, slamming the door behind her.
Hurley and I sit there in silence for a moment before I say, “Interesting reaction.”
“Yes, it certainly was.”
“Sorry if I pissed you off by jumping in.”
He smiles. “I’m not pissed, not at all. In fact, I’m rather pleased. You played a perfect round of good cop/bad cop. And it was fun watching the two of you go at it. Nice job on the London thing, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I bask for a couple of seconds and then say, “She looked genuinely shocked by the knowledge that Jack’s money is missing.”
“Or angry.”
“Because we suspect she might have taken it?”
“Maybe,” Hurley says, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Or she’s angry because someone else beat her to it.”
Chapter 6
Next up on our list of interviews is Jack’s housekeeper, Serena Vasquez. But thanks to Catherine’s abrupt departure, we have some time to kill since it’s just past eight-thirty and we don’t need to be at Serena’s until eleven. I call Izzy, and after filling him in on our aborted interview with Catherine, I ask if he needs me at the office. He informs me the morgue is thankfully empty of fresh bodies.
“I’m waiting on a few things from Arnie and catching up on some paperwork,” Izzy says. “You can come into the office and spend time studying, or you can stay there at the station and hang with Hurley if you want, watch what they do with their investigations.”
I’ve had plenty of opportunities to study lately. The office library has tons of tomes
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