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Authors: Jonathan Kellerman
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assume—”
“Admit it, you focused on him,” said Ashley, louder. “So I cleared it up, okay? They were divorced but still friends—they worked together, no problems, not a single one.”
“Okay,” said Milo.
Ashley pointed a red-nailed finger. “Even if I believed Dad could do something like that and I don’t, I know he didn’t because he wasn’t there when you said it happened, he was home.”
Early on, she’d asked about the time frame. Not as certain of her father’s innocence as she wanted us to believe?
I said, “You know he was home because—”
“I called him this morning and he was there and then he had to take another call from overseas business so he said to email him and I did. And he was right there and he answered me back. Twice.”
We’d seen the email headings, so all true. But irrelevant if a contract killer had been used.
Milo said, “Thanks for clearing that up, Ashley. And let me emphasize, we don’t have any suspects at this time, including your dad.”
“I threw up,” said Marissa Corey, reappearing around the corner. She sat back down, swiping her lips with a tissue and placing a hand on a flat stomach. “Everything just hurled.”
Ashley said, “You okay?”
Marissa stuck out her tongue and grimaced. “Tastes like crap. Yech.”
Ashley said, “I was just telling them that Daddy and Mommy got along well.”
“Uh-huh.” Marissa closed her eyes, threw her head back against the roll of the sofa-top.
Milo said, “I know this is a terrible time but if either of you has any idea who
would
want to hurt your mom—”
“No one,” said Ashley. “Some criminal probably wanted to rob her.”
Marissa said, “She was wearing total bling. I saw her when I was eating breakfast this morning.”
Ashley said, “Mommy was the queen of blingdom, she loved her bling. That’s why she went out, to make sure her jewelry was given to us fairly. She told us. We felt weird about it but when Mommy had an idea …”
“Fifty–fifty, girls,” said Marissa, shifting to a British accent.
Ashley said, “Mommy was all about being fair, always.”
“Robbery would be a good motive,” said Milo. “Unfortunately, all of your mother’s jewelry was in place. So were her cash and credit cards.”
Both girls gaped.
Ashley said, “So what? Some ghetto-scum tried to rob her, panicked and …” She shook her head. More tears.
Marissa said, “I think I’m going to hurl again.” But she sat there.
Milo said, “You’re making good points and we’ll certainly look into them. Is there anything else we should consider?”
“Why would we know?” said Ashley.
“You were close to her.”
“So what, if it was about her bling?”
“True, but let’s consider alternatives. Was your mom dating anyone?”
Both girls shook their heads.
“No one?”
Ashley said, “The business kept her busy, she was always traveling.”
“So no steady boyfriend.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Did she ever speak of anyone hassling her?”
“Like a stalker?” said Ashley. “No.”
“What about a problem with someone related to business?”
Blank looks. Then Marissa shot a glance at her sister. Whatever message she was trying to convey didn’t get through. Ashley continued to look glazed. She slumped low and knuckled her eyes.
I said, “Something came to mind, Marissa?”
“No,” she said. In a soft voice, to Ashley: “Not even Phyllis, right?”
Ashley stared at her. “Phyllis? That’s crazy.”
The obvious next step was to ask who Phyllis was. Milo said, “Tell us about the hassle with Laura.”
“Stupid bitch Laura,” said Marissa. “We’re all going to the city, House of Blues, Chainsaw Waltz is playing, Laura’s like ‘I’ll drive.’ She’s a sucky driver, we should’ve known, but she had her father’s car finally and wanted to show it off.”
I said, “Nice wheels?”
“Bentley Speed? You
think
?”
Ashley said, “She hit a pole in her Audi the week before so
“Admit it, you focused on him,” said Ashley, louder. “So I cleared it up, okay? They were divorced but still friends—they worked together, no problems, not a single one.”
“Okay,” said Milo.
Ashley pointed a red-nailed finger. “Even if I believed Dad could do something like that and I don’t, I know he didn’t because he wasn’t there when you said it happened, he was home.”
Early on, she’d asked about the time frame. Not as certain of her father’s innocence as she wanted us to believe?
I said, “You know he was home because—”
“I called him this morning and he was there and then he had to take another call from overseas business so he said to email him and I did. And he was right there and he answered me back. Twice.”
We’d seen the email headings, so all true. But irrelevant if a contract killer had been used.
Milo said, “Thanks for clearing that up, Ashley. And let me emphasize, we don’t have any suspects at this time, including your dad.”
“I threw up,” said Marissa Corey, reappearing around the corner. She sat back down, swiping her lips with a tissue and placing a hand on a flat stomach. “Everything just hurled.”
Ashley said, “You okay?”
Marissa stuck out her tongue and grimaced. “Tastes like crap. Yech.”
Ashley said, “I was just telling them that Daddy and Mommy got along well.”
“Uh-huh.” Marissa closed her eyes, threw her head back against the roll of the sofa-top.
Milo said, “I know this is a terrible time but if either of you has any idea who
would
want to hurt your mom—”
“No one,” said Ashley. “Some criminal probably wanted to rob her.”
Marissa said, “She was wearing total bling. I saw her when I was eating breakfast this morning.”
Ashley said, “Mommy was the queen of blingdom, she loved her bling. That’s why she went out, to make sure her jewelry was given to us fairly. She told us. We felt weird about it but when Mommy had an idea …”
“Fifty–fifty, girls,” said Marissa, shifting to a British accent.
Ashley said, “Mommy was all about being fair, always.”
“Robbery would be a good motive,” said Milo. “Unfortunately, all of your mother’s jewelry was in place. So were her cash and credit cards.”
Both girls gaped.
Ashley said, “So what? Some ghetto-scum tried to rob her, panicked and …” She shook her head. More tears.
Marissa said, “I think I’m going to hurl again.” But she sat there.
Milo said, “You’re making good points and we’ll certainly look into them. Is there anything else we should consider?”
“Why would we know?” said Ashley.
“You were close to her.”
“So what, if it was about her bling?”
“True, but let’s consider alternatives. Was your mom dating anyone?”
Both girls shook their heads.
“No one?”
Ashley said, “The business kept her busy, she was always traveling.”
“So no steady boyfriend.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Did she ever speak of anyone hassling her?”
“Like a stalker?” said Ashley. “No.”
“What about a problem with someone related to business?”
Blank looks. Then Marissa shot a glance at her sister. Whatever message she was trying to convey didn’t get through. Ashley continued to look glazed. She slumped low and knuckled her eyes.
I said, “Something came to mind, Marissa?”
“No,” she said. In a soft voice, to Ashley: “Not even Phyllis, right?”
Ashley stared at her. “Phyllis? That’s crazy.”
The obvious next step was to ask who Phyllis was. Milo said, “Tell us about the hassle with Laura.”
“Stupid bitch Laura,” said Marissa. “We’re all going to the city, House of Blues, Chainsaw Waltz is playing, Laura’s like ‘I’ll drive.’ She’s a sucky driver, we should’ve known, but she had her father’s car finally and wanted to show it off.”
I said, “Nice wheels?”
“Bentley Speed? You
think
?”
Ashley said, “She hit a pole in her Audi the week before so
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